15 Shades Of Pink (36 page)

“No!” he and Molly said at the same time. Then they looked at each other.

Michael shook his head, propelling his hands in the air like he could sweep away the suggestion. “I’m not making another
Heartbreak Beach
movie. I thought we were trying to break out of the typecast, and you want me to do it again?”

Molly pointed at Larry. “You can’t pay me to date someone!”

Michael jerked back.
Shit, did she think it would be that bad?

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Larry slumped onto the picnic bench, the picture of drama. He should’ve been an actor, not an agent. “I came down here for this abuse?”

“Find a different project, Larry.”

“That’s all anyone’s interested in.”

Michael gave him a look.

Larry dropped his back, staring at the sky. “We’ll find something. Just keep your name in the papers and something will come up.”

Michael let out a long sigh because Larry was right. But he didn’t argue against the idea; he’d let Molly do that.

Then Larry looked at Molly. “You’re telling me there is nothing that could convince you to pretend to be Michael’s girlfriend for the summer?” He looked at the house. “You could get some money to fix up this place. Take some time off from work.” He rolled the idea out like a handful of dice.

She crossed her arms, considering the idea. “Would you fix my grandmother’s roof? That’s really expensive.”

Michael certainly hadn’t expected that.

Larry hopped up from the bench and clapped his hands. “Absolutely. Hell, we’ll have the house painted, too.”

She twisted her lips, thinking. Michael was shocked. She’d seemed so adamant that she wouldn’t do it.
It’s because of her grandmother
. He’d have to buy Grandma a nice bunch of flowers.

Molly held up her hand. “On one condition. Well, two really. If we’re going to be a couple, you cannot be hooking up on the side with other women. I won’t be made to look like a fool.”

That was getting old anyway. “No problem. What’s the other condition?” He put his fists on his hips.

She closed her eyes and sighed. “You can’t spend the entire summer drunk. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you hadn’t been out drinking the night before.”

Larry walked over to him. “She’s right. The past few years have been nothing but a party for you. This is your chance. Probably your last chance. Quit boozing, quit the women, and give fans want they want—a nice summer romance with Molly and another movie.”

***

She watched Michael rubbing his chin, thinking it over. Was it that horrible of a proposition to spend more time with her?
She
wouldn’t mind. Of course not. Even though she’d been turned off by the boozing playboy she’d found at the beach the day before, she’d been surprised and impressed with how nice he’d been today. Helping her paint the living room? Totally unexpected.

Finally, Michael sighed. “Molly and I can have our relationship, but I want you to look around for another project. Nothing can get me to do another
Heartbreak Beach
movie. Nothing.”

Larry turned up his hands. “I’ll see what I can do. But let’s keep the buzz high on you two.” He rubbed his hands together like a man preparing to dig into a Thanksgiving dinner.

“Wait, how long are we pretending to be going out?” Molly asked.

“I’m scheduled to leave August 1st,” Michael said.

“And I’m going home July 31st.”

“You can break up after you each go home, because the distance will just be too much for you. But you’ll always remember your summer romance.” Larry said, wistfully. Then he pumped his arm and shouted, “We have a winner!”

Molly shrugged. “Might as well. It will be hard arguing we’re not dating once people see the picture that photographer took.”

Michael nodded.

“What picture?”

“She stepped in paint, so I carried her outside to wash off.”

Larry’s eyes widened. “Just like in the movie,” he whispered. He started fanning himself. “I’m going to faint.”

Michael looked at her. “So, are you in?”

She stared him down. “No women and no hangovers?”

“On my honor,” he said, holding up two fingers like a Boy Scout.

She held out her hand. “It’s a deal.”

He shook back and she was sure she felt a little squeeze in there. “Deal. You won’t regret it.”

Somehow, her Michael Sullivan daydreams had never involved a deal like this. Although, a few did involve her paying for the privilege.

***

Larry left to catch a plane back to New York, and Michael helped her finish cleaning the brushes and folding up the tarp.

“Who was that nice gentleman?” Grandma asked.

“My agent,” Michael said. “He wanted to meet Molly.”

She didn’t want Grandma to be in on the lie. There was also a very good chance Grandma couldn’t keep it quiet the next time a photographer came looking for a drink—and a scoop. “Michael and I are dating, Grandma.”

Grandma closed her eyes and smiled. “I thought I saw a spark between you two when he showed up yesterday. I just had a feeling about you kids.” She pinched Molly’s cheek. “I couldn’t be happier. Now you two run off and do something together. You shouldn’t be hanging around the house with an old lady when there’s so much fun to be had!”

“You want to catch dinner?” he asked.

Remembering the butt cheek from the night before, she shook her head. “And face another flock of fans?”

He grinned. “Well, then I’ve got the perfect plan. I’ll pick you up at seven. No need to dress up.” His eyes swept over her. “In fact, what you have on right now looks great.”

But of course, she changed after he left, wondering the whole time if this was a huge mistake. But why fight it when the whole world was going to believe it anyway? Since she’d brought only one dressy outfit, there was no problem picking out something casual. She put on a flowing peasant skirt and a pale gold tank top and wondered what her first fake date as Michael Sullivan’s girlfriend would be like.

He showed up at seven with a picnic basket and a blanket. “There’s a quiet spot just up the beach. And don’t worry, I only brought one bottle of wine, so there’ll be no hangover, and as far as I know, no fans are lurking in the trunk.” He paused. “But I should check, because it’s happened before.”

She laughed. “Sounds good.” She climbed in the car, her hair swirling in the wind as the convertible hit the road. “If you want the publicity, shouldn’t we be going somewhere people will actually see us?” she shouted, over the noise of the wind and the road.

He grinned at her and she wondered if his smile would always have a woozy effect on her. “Not yet,” he said. “I still owe you a nice date. Last night didn’t work out like I planned.”

They drove to a quiet beach a bit further down the Cape. A few people strolled along the surf as the sky turned lemonade pink. They spread out their blanket back by the dunes and Michael poured them both a glass of wine.

“You’re not thinking about going for a swim, are you?” she asked. “I’m all for getting back on the horse, but two saves in two days? I can’t make any promises.”

He laughed. “I’ll stay on dry land. Unless those girls start chasing me again. Aquaman, I am not.”

Her hair grazed his hand, and he fiddled with the tips; catching strands, then curling them round his fingers. Lucky hair, she thought. “So, no more
Heartbreak Beaches
, huh?”

“You can’t possibly mean you’d want to see another one? Give me a few years and I’ll be ready for
Heart Attack Beach
.”

“Oh, stop.” Sighing, she dug her toes in the sand, feeling very much sixteen again. “That movie was the definitive movie for girls my age. Even now, it makes me feel young and hopeful about romance, when my real life is anything but.” She wrapped her hands around her knees and shrugged. “I’d love to see another one. I can’t imagine anyone looking down on you for that. It’d be a dream come true for thousands of obsessed fans.”

“Jack Tyler’s not real, you know. No guy’s like that, not really.”

She shrugged. “I know, but the love seemed real. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced real love with a guy. Lust, sure. A serious relationship and all that. But not love. I just want to believe it’s out there for me. Another movie would mean a lot to me. The first one made me expect more from men. Maybe the next one would restore my faith in men.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”

She nudged him with her knee. “Nothing you haven’t heard before; the typical story. Picked the wrong guy. Or maybe my standards are too high. You ruined me for other guys.”

He nudged her back, and kept his leg against hers, the hairs tickling her skin. “Good,” he said. “Or you probably wouldn’t be sitting here with me.”

That line required a long sip of wine to swallow. But she was going to savor it, just like the expensive-tasting chardonnay he’d brought. “So, what’s the game plan? Do we need to be seen certain places? I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”

He fought back a smile. “Just spend time with me. We’ll see what happens.”

He was close enough that she thought he might kiss her. But he reached for the basket and pulled out a gorgeous little tart. And not the kind he usually ended up with; one with glazed fruit and mascarpone cheese. Her kind of tart.

Darkness came quickly at the beach—and so did the bugs. While slapping away little no-see-ums buzzing about, they packed up their things and drove back to Grandma’s. She sucked in a breath when she saw the red Miata parked up over the curb. She bit her lip and turned to him. “Super stalker fan alert. You might want to run.” She was only half-kidding.

But before he had the chance, the front door flung open and her best friend, Colleen, ran over.

Molly hopped out of the car. “What are you doing here?” As if she had to ask.

“Since someone is ignoring her cell, I had to come down here and find out for myself. Are you really dating…” she sucked in a breath, and whispered, “Michael Sullivan? The Michael Sullivan whose poster is still hanging in your room at your Mom’s? The Michael Sullivan you wrote a fan letter to? The Michael Sullivan you always said was the hottest guy in the world?”

She could hear Michael chuckling inside the car, and before she could answer—or hit the girl to shut her up—he climbed out.

Colleen’s eyes widened and she screamed. “Oh. My. God!” And she ran inside, slamming the door behind her.

“I swear to God we really are twenty-five.”

Michael looked at her, smiling. “Which poster?”

She opened and closed her mouth. “I can’t even remember.”
The shirtless one, where you’re standing in the water with your khaki shorts on
, she thought. “And I never heard back from that fan letter, either.”

“Hate to tell you, most of the letters never made it to me.”

“And Colleen sent you five, for the record. Hang on, let me see if I can bring her back to earth.”

She dashed inside, where Colleen was waving her hands to cool herself off. “You gonna make it?” Molly asked.

“How could you not tell me about this? This is exactly why they invented cell phones. You could have at least tweeted it.” She looked entirely offended.

Molly turned up her hands. “It just kind of happened.”

“So, it’s true?”

She sucked in a breath and nodded.
This is really happening
, she thought.

Colleen fell back on the couch, kicking her legs in the air.

“And don’t ask him to autograph your butt cheek. He won’t do it.”

And then Michael walked in.

Molly cleared her throat and Colleen stopped squealing. She sat up, smoothing her hair and crossing her legs, the picture of poise. “Hi, I’m Colleen.”

“And she had more posters of you in her room than I did,” Molly said.

“I suppose I should take them down now that you’re taken—by my best friend.” She bit her lip, probably trying to stifle another scream.

“You staying down here long?” Molly asked. For the first time ever, she hoped the answer was no.

Colleen sighed. “I’ve gotta work tomorrow morning. I was just waiting for you to get back to see for myself if it was true.”

“And you’ve seen. So I’m going to head out now,” Michael said, gesturing to the door.

Molly walked over to let him out. They stood there, looking at each other. He smelled good.
It would be a nice smell to wake up to
.

Colleen stood with her arms crossed, and raised one eyebrow. “Don’t be shy because of me.” She jerked her chin, urging them to get on with business. “Kiss her,” she whispered.

Molly pursed her lips and turned to Michael. There was an awkward pause, where they both must’ve been realizing that yeah, this was part of the deal. He slipped his hand over her shoulder and gently swiped his lips across hers. She figured it would be a quick kiss. But once his lips touched hers, it was hard to pull them away, and she found her fingers curling around his shoulders.

Finally, he pulled back. “I imagine that’s a little bit better than my first attempt,” he smirked.

Without thinking, she licked her lips. “A bit.”

He slid his hands down her back; she hadn’t realized he’d taken her in his arms.

Colleen cleared her throat. “Well, good night.” Putting her hand to her ear, she made the universal call-me sign, then slipped out the door.

Michael turned to her. “Hope that was okay. It would hardly have seemed convincing if I didn’t kiss you.”

She crossed her arms. “You’re absolutely right. And it was a very good kiss, by the way.” He’d certainly honed his skills on the movie set.

“Thank you. And you as well,” he said, now sounding strangely formal. “And I’ll probably have to do that again, you know. Fair warning and all.”

She nodded, hoping she didn’t look too eager, even though she’d be holding her breath until the next one.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He closed the door behind him quietly and she sank onto the couch before her wobbly knees could give out. Oh, if a fake kiss could cause this kind of reaction, what would happen if he’d kissed her for real?