Hitman's Hookup: A Bad Boy Romance (46 page)

I tried to hold back my gleeful smile but I failed miserably. Lydia reached out and patted my hand. "Oh, honey, you are so far gone."

***

I was showered and ready for bed by eight o'clock that night, exhausted to my bones from my nearly sleepless weekend with Wilder.

I checked my phone and saw that I had three missed messages from my mother. "On the plane in NYC. See you soon!" then "Landed in Berlin. Spending the night here and taking off in the morning for Italy! See you tomorrow!" and then another that said "Love you!"

My stomach dropped.

In all of the excitement, I had completely forgotten that my mother was on her way to see me. I dashed off a quick "Be safe." I was pretty sure I'd said those two words more than "Love you" to my mother. S

he was always dashing off to the next adventure with the next guy my entire childhood. I'd usually tucked myself into bed at night with a cassette tape of famous people reading stories to me. My favorite was John Lithgow reading "Jack and the Beanstalk." That story had taken on a different context in my adulthood when he played the creepiest serial killer in television history on
Dexter
.

I turned my phone off and pulled back the freshly cleaned and ironed duvet. I was going to miss someone else doing laundry and tidying up rooms when I got back to Los Angeles, that was for sure. I tried not to think about the fantasy of the last few weeks ending. I couldn’t bear it. Things had hit a groove on set and I was actually enjoying myself in front of the camera.

I was about to collapse into the eight-hundred-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets when a knock sounded at my door. It was so quiet I paused, listening to see if it had just been the breeze hitting the tree outside. A few seconds later the knock came again.

I shuffled over and looked through the peep hole.

It was Wilder.

I felt a frisson of excitement despite the fact that exhaustion was seeping from every pore. I pulled the door open as quickly and quietly as I could. Wilder slipped in and I ducked my head out to see if anyone was in the hallway.

"What are you doing?" I hissed. "Fox is in the room next door."

Wilder grinned and held out his hands, wrapping my waist with his arms. "I like to live dangerously," he whispered, pulling me up to his mouth and kissing me like we'd been apart for a decade and not a few hours. "I missed you."

A smile erupted across my face. The joy that I felt at being wanted, needed, craved was unexpected and slightly terrifying. But I pushed it out of my mind as Wilder pushed me up against the wall. I groaned.

He held up his finger to my lips, shushing me. "You already told me we can't get in trouble. Dead giveaway if Fox hears you enjoying yourself."

He found his way down to the area in between my legs and I struggled to keep my mouth shut as he undid my bathrobe. I let it fall open as he knelt down and lifted each one of my legs over his shoulder, running his tongue all over the familiar places.

I had to put my own hand over my mouth to keep myself from making noise. I squeezed his head between my thighs, groaning and moaning into my own skin.

When I came, I nearly put the back of my head through the wall. Wilder lowered me down to the floor with a grin. "I missed you. Did I say that yet?"

I ran my fingers through his hair and led him to bed.

It looked like it was going to be another night of very little sleep.

CHAPTER FORTY

WILDER

The next morning’s alarm came courtesy of a heavy knock at the door.

I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.

"It's only seven! I'm not due on set until noon today,” Olivia groaned, rolling over.

"I'll get it," I said, peeling myself out from in between the sheets and standing up to stretch.

When my feet hit the carpet I suddenly realized I wasn’t supposed to be here. I’d meant to sneak back to my room before the sun came up. I glanced at the curtains and saw a pencil-thin sliver of harsh sunlight slipping between a part in the fabric. I turned around and saw that Olivia was having the same thoughts that I just had.

“You’re not supposed to be here! What if it's Fox? Or someone we know?" she hissed, panicking. “You can’t answer the door! This isn’t your room!”

I felt the opportunity to dish back some of the ribbing that Olivia had been giving me since we’d come back together. I looked around, faking panic.

“Fuck, this
isn’t
my room! How did I get here? Did you drug me?”

Olivia’s face dissolved into laughter. “Fuck off, Wilder,” she retorted. “But seriously, you are naked. You can’t answer the door.”

"I'm going to look first. Lay back down. It's fine," I replied, walking over to the door. "Besides,
all
this
is nothing the world hasn't seen before, right?"

She buried her face in her hands and laughed. "You are absolutely off the wall, Wilder."

The knocking at the door grew louder and more insistent.

"Fucking hold on!" I yelled, turning to the door and peering through the peep hole. I instantly wished that I hadn't. My father was standing there.

My father was standing there.

I blinked several times and before I knew what I was doing, my hand was on the door handle and I was opening it just far enough to hide Olivia from his sight.

He wasn’t alone. He was standing there with a blonde woman. My dad looked at me sardonically, seeing that I was naked.

"Well, Nicholas. Always good to be seeing more of you."

Olivia shrieked from behind me and I pulled the door closer to a shut position, my body blocking the open gap. I heard the rustle of sheets as she dove to cover herself up and made a break for the bathroom.

I knew that my dad and his companion couldn’t see her; my body was blocking their view entirely. But my brain was creaking along, slowly trying to understand and collate the information that was in front of me.

My father was standing, in a button-down shirt and khakis, in front of me. My father, he who lived in grease-covered, tattered jeans and black t-shirts that showed off his own array of tattoos, was wearing a shirt with
buttons.

And he was standing with a woman I'd never seen before outside of a hotel room that was not mine, in a country that was not the United States.

"Holy fuck," was the stunning conclusion I drew from piecing together that information. That was all I had.

"The front desk must have given us the wrong room number," said the woman, smiling. "Well, this is a nice surprise anyway!"

My dad nodded behind me toward the direction of the bathroom door that Olivia had just banged shut. "Another woman I won't be seeing at Thanksgiving; I guess?"

I suddenly remembered I was naked and moved the lower half of my body aside, tucking it behind the door jamb.

"I'm sorry, I'm going to need for you to back up slightly. What are you doing here?"

"We came to see you, actually. Well, we came to see Penelope’s daughter. But like I said, the front desk must have given us the wrong room number."

I looked back at the blonde woman. Underneath the wrinkles, deep tan, and what looked like the skin of a lifelong smoker, I realized who she looked like.

"Holy fuck," I said again.

"Do you happen to know where Olivia Martin is?" the woman asked.

"Uh, I. No, I'm not sure which room number is hers, actually. We...don't see much of each other outside of being at work together. You know how it is." I felt the gears slowly gliding into place. "Sorry, did you come here together?"

Olivia's mom nodded. “Of course we did!”

My mind still wasn’t processing this information. “You…met in the lobby here?”

My dad shifted uncomfortably. He was standing with the uncomfortable grimace he’d worn in every social situation I’d ever seen him in, the look on his face screaming that he’d rather be anywhere but here right now.

Penelope explained. “No! We came here from the States! We planned on coming over together. We’re
together-together.
”

That information nearly broke my brain.

“Together…for what?” I asked foolishly.

Penelope laughed and jabbed her elbow into my father’s rib. “Oh, Garrett, you two have the same sense of humor!”

I had never heard my father tell a joke in my entire life. “What the hell is going on?” I asked, my confusion giving way to anger. I hated being out of the loop.

"We came to pick up Olivia for breakfast in the hotel downstairs. It's a bit of a surprise - she wasn't expecting me until later. But I love surprises!" Penelope shrieked.

My actor’s training took over. I had to do damage control here. I forced a laugh.

"Nothing like a good surprise, that's what I always fucking say," I replied crassly. I looked behind me pointedly. "I need to get ready, actually. I can give my assistant a call and he can track down Olivia for you. Don't bother the front desk again! Just...go make yourselves comfortable with some breakfast and I'm sure she'll be right down."

"Well, you have to join us!" Olivia's mom said, clapping her hands together.

"I do?" I asked her, fixing my smile onto my face.

My dad was silent, his mouth a thin line. The last thing in the world I wanted to do today was have breakfast with my father. Or lunch. Or dinner. Or a light snack. Or share the same air. Any and all of those things were the last things that I wanted to do on any given day. Then I thought of Olivia being thrown into this situation alone. I couldn’t do that to her.

"Of course I'll join you. Just give me twenty minutes to get presentable,” I said with a fixed smile.

" I wouldn't want you to be rude to your...guest," my father said pointedly.

I clenched my fist and decided to say nothing as a way of reply. I slammed the door in their faces with no goodbye. I’d reached my maximum of small talk for the day already.

This day was not what I had expected.

And it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

OLIVIA

As soon as a I heard the voices stop and the door shut, I came out of the bathroom.

Wilder was leaning his back against the door with his eyes closed.

"What the hell is going on?"  I asked, pulling fresh clothes out of the dresser.

"You have about as much information as I do right now, Liv," Wilder said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“Um, I hope after spending a few minutes with whoever was at the door you’d at least know a
bit
more than I do.” I stood there, naked, with my hand on my hip. I tapped my foot impatiently.

“My dad was out there.”

“Your dad? At my door? Here?
What?”
My brain was spinning.

Wilder sighed and wandered over to the bed to pull on a pair of black boxer briefs. “Your mother was with him.”

This was too much information for me; I felt like my brain was melting down. So I laughed; that was all that I could do.

“My mother. Was standing outside with your father. Here. In Tuscany?” I doubled over, tears of mirth stinging my eyes. “We’re still asleep, right?”

Wilder pulled on his t-shirt and jeans and shook his head. “Well, we’re having breakfast with both of them in about seventeen minutes. So maybe then we can find out what the hell is going on.”

“How – I don’t understand. How in the hell did my mother meet your father? In the lobby?”

“I’m not sure, but it wasn’t the goddamn lobby. That’s all I know.” Wilder shrugged and handed me my underwear.

I grabbed it from him, stepping into it one foot at a time, my heart beating quickly. Surely this was all a joke.

“Wait! What did you tell them about me and you being in this room together?”

Wilder sat on the edge of the bed staring at me. He looked upset. I’d never seen him like this.

“My dad thinks you’re my next dead-end girlfriend. I told them this wasn’t your room. Don’t worry. They don’t know we were together.”

I exhaled. “Thank God.”

Wilder raised his eyebrows. “Are you ashamed of me?”

I shook my head. “You don’t know my mother. She couldn’t keep a secret if her life
literally
depended on it.”

I ran my hands through my hair. I’d managed to brush it when I was in the bathroom so it was no longer a nest. “I’ve been trying to call her for the last week since I replaced Hailey. I thought for sure she might call when she saw the news but she didn’t even answer the phone.”

I opened the dresser drawer and pulled out a fresh dress. It was navy blue, floor-length linen. I slipped it over my head and wandered back into the bathroom to braid my hair.

A moment later, Wilder was at my back. “Let me do it,” he whispered. I realized my hands were shaking.

“Sorry, it’s just the adrenaline from the interruption,” I said. “And I wasn’t expecting my mom this early, honestly. I like to be more prepared than this when it comes to seeing my mom.”

Wilder let out a dark laugh. “You and me both. If
you’re
shocked, it’s fucking
nothing
compared to how I fucking feel right now. At least you were expecting your mom to show up at
some
point in this trip.”

Wilder moved his fingers nimbly through my hair, pulling back the strands into a Dutch braid that fell down the center of my scalp. When he was done, he reached down to my wrist with his free hand and pulled off the elastic that sat there. He tied it with a swift twist of his fingers.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" I asked him quietly, gently patting my hair and turning my head to look in the mirror. It was the neatest braid that I’d ever worn.

"My mom," he replied. "She had multiple sclerosis and I would brush her hair and braid it for her when she couldn't use her arms anymore. She had the most gorgeous hair. It was kind of like yours in texture but it was this deep chestnut color. When the light hit it the red strands hidden in it would pop out and shimmer like glitter. I'd sit for hours and brush it for her. She taught me how to braid it. We'd do that while we watched soap operas in the middle of the afternoon in the summertime. That was when I knew I wanted to be an actor."