Page 19 of The Love Lie
“I wasn’t trying to force you. You don’t have to come,” he answers honestly. “If you think it’ll cause big trouble with work, go get your laptop and do what you have to do. I can make an excuse with Nina. But I’d like to go, if you don’t mind. I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve only seen the ocean twice in my life, and the first time was six weeks ago from the mansion in LA when we started this whole thing. Life on the ranch doesn’t leave much room for travel, or maybe that’s just my father, but if I don’t jump on this opportunity now, it might never come again.That’swhy I said we’d go, but you’re right. I shouldn’t have answered for you.”
The ire in her honey eyes cools.
A curious little flicker shifts her features—one he recognizes, a little glimpse that reminds him of her sister. They do have the same face after all, and after six weeks with Emily, he likes tothink he knows a bit about how to read it. But he doesn’t know which part of what he said has Sam intrigued. The mention of his father? Of the ranch? Of his somewhat sheltered life?
She doesn’t elaborate.
A beat of silence passes while she studies him, and this quiet, pensive version of her has him spooked. He’s not sure what she sees in his eyes, but whatever it is, it’s hitting a little too close to home.
So in an exaggerated drawl, he adds, “Of course, it would be a little odd for a newly engaged couple with their first taste of camera-free freedom to separate at the first chance they got. So what do you say? Want to come with me?”
She rolls her eyes with a scowl. “You’re insufferable.”
“Some might call me charming.”
“Who?” she scoffs. “The cows?”
Cooper snorts.Got me there.
Sam smiles triumphantly. He can practically see her add a tally to her side of the invisible scoreboard. Then she loops their arms together.
“I guess we should go get changed.”
When they get back to their bungalow, she disappears inside the bedroom while he hastily dons board shorts and slides. Right as he’s settling a University of Nebraska baseball cap on his head—Go, Huskers!—a gentleclickdraws his eye. Sam steps out in barely-there cutoffs and a faded pink T-shirt. His breath catches at the sight of her toned legs and the glimpse of two rounded cheeks as she leans to the side to grab her sunglasses. He swallows, his throat suddenly tight. Oblivious, she reaches up to twist her hair into a bun, revealing two thin blue straps tied behind her neck. He knows a tiny string bikini when he sees one, and damn if he isn’t curious what’s hiding beneath that shapeless cotton shirt.
“Would you look at that,” Sam says as she takes him in. “A bathing suit.”
Her snarky comment snaps him from the daze. “Wouldn’t want to overwhelm you in front of the others, Cuj. I know how distracting you find my other choice of swimwear.”
She glares at him.
“That’s not a denial.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Still not—”
A knock cuts him off. They share a knowing glance. Cooper offers his hand in a silent truce, and she takes it before yanking open the door. Trish offers a firm nod and Fred a warm grin, their opposite personalities on display. During filming, Cooper heard some of the assistants refer to her as the Ice Queen, and he can’t help but think the name fits. Her platinum hair is pulled back in a tight bun, her features are inscrutable, and her white button-up dress is cinched all the way through the collar, not giving an inch. Oversized sunglasses hide her eyes, but he just knows that frigid blue would make him shiver. By her side, Fred is like the perfect foil, his white teeth on brilliant display against his dark skin, his eyes soft and welcoming. His cutoff T-shirt screams relaxation, and his voice is unfalteringly sincere as he says, “So glad you two could join us!”
While they exchange some small talk—How was your night? How’s your room? Isn’t this weather great? Have you ever seen water so beautiful?—Cooper loops his arm over Sam’s shoulders to draw her close. They are, after all, supposed to be engaged. But that doesn’t explain why his fingers keep brushing up and down her arm of their own accord, drawing long soothing strokes across her skin. Or why his thumb hooks under the edge of her sleeve, just to feel more of her. Or why his face turns ever so slightly to the side so he can smell the coconut shampoo in her hair. He’s itching to slide his palm into the back pocket of thosecutoff shorts and feel the supple curve of the perky ass she teased him with the night before.
When Trish and Fred pull slightly ahead, lost in some argument about edits for the show, he can’t seem to stop his hand from finding her hip, then gliding lower, and lower, until—
“Rules!” Sam suddenly blurts.
He jerks his wayward fingers back to her shoulder.The hell, man? Control yourself.“Rules?”
Her chest expands as she draws in a deep, uneven breath. He may or may not drop his gaze to look, may or may not study the electric-blue strings disappearing beneath pink cotton, may or may not find himself fantasizing about what it might be like to draw that shirt over her head and find out what’s hiding underneath…
Come on!
He snaps his face forward.
“Rules,” she repeats, her voice stronger this time. “For this. Forus. I know I’m supposed to be Emily and we’re supposed to be engaged, but I’m Sam, and we’re not. I don’t know anything about you. You don’t know anything about me. We need to set some boundaries or the next five days could get…blurry.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he says innocently, as if he weren’t just picturing her naked and didn’t almost grab her ass in broad daylight.
She arches a brow pointedly in his direction, then sighs. “You and my sister just faked an entire relationship for a TV show. What did you guys do?”
