Summer Kisses (318 page)

A sliver of irritation worked its way under his skin at the realization that his daughter had gone to Lou for comfort rather than him—but why wouldn’t she? Lou was the only mother figure Emma had ever known and Jack had been away for
weeks
, mugging for the cameras for this fucking show.

What the hell was he doing here?

The only woman he wanted in his life was Lou. The four year fuse on his feelings for Lou had finally hit the detonator and he was all in with her.

Or was that the champagne and the frustrated lust talking?

Jack cursed and leapt into the pool, shuddering as he hit the frigid water. The icy pool did its job, cooling his head—both of them—but when he surfaced he was no closer to knowing how to get out of completing the show now that he’d realized the one woman he might really want was the one he had loved all along.

Six gorgeous women stood in the warm glow of the courtyard, lined up like they were facing a firing squad. Which they were, in a way. Jack was the personal assassin of their romantic hopes and dreams. Four slim gold bands rested on a plush pillow on the pedestal at his side. The cameras captured every nervous glance, every hopeful smile and flirtatious grin. He felt the familiar stab of guilt that always accompanied the Elimination Ceremonies—only much more sharply now.

He shouldn’t be here.

Everything felt wrong. Lou had left without a word this morning while he was on his goddamn date, but he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. The show’s producers kept telling him to search his feelings and look at the six remaining women as potential mates, but all his feelings were consumed with confusion over another woman.

“Whenever you’re ready, Jack,” Josh intoned, heaping drama onto every syllable.

Jack scanned the faces of the six beautiful woman he had never done anything to deserve. He felt like such a fake. Mr. Perfect. Why should they compete for his affections? What made him so special? Instead of making him feel like a prince among men, their attentions made him feel like a sham. He reached into his pocket, thumbing the charm bracelet. Lou would be home now. Where he should be.

Jack shook his head and turned abruptly away from the firing squad line. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He wasn’t sure who he was telling—the Suitorettes, Josh, Miranda—but he didn’t wait to find out how his announcement would be received. He strode out of the courtyard, up the path toward his own mansion.

He heard Miranda frantically instructing the crew to “Keep rolling!” and heard footsteps as Josh Pendleton, former game-show host and fulltime television personality, chased him away from the ceremony.

He stopped running when he got to his own patio, knowing he would have to have it out with the producers at some point. Probably on camera.

“How ya feeling, buddy?” Pendleton asked in a falsely chummy tone as soon as the mobile camera crew caught up with them. “This is a hard night. A big decision day. Is the stress getting to you?”

“I want out.”

“Hey, let’s talk about this,” Pendleton said, channeling Miranda through his earpiece. “Knowing you’re going to be meeting the in-laws can be a real wake-up call. It really raises the stakes. It’s only natural that you would feel overwhelmed right now.”

“I’m not overwhelmed. I shouldn’t be here. It’s wrong. I’m leading them on.”

Pendleton paused, making it look pensive even though he was doubtless getting an earful from Miranda. “Jack,” he said finally. “Jack, buddy. This is your decision, man, but don’t rush into it without thinking things through. This kind of opportunity isn’t going to come around again. If you think there’s a chance you could love one of those six women, you would be throwing away everything you’ve built by leaving here tonight. I’d hate to see go home only to realize you’d made a terrible mistake, getting carried away in the emotional hot water of the situation.”

Hot water.
Miranda wasn’t subtle. He should have known she would know about the Jacuzzi interlude.

“If you go home, thinking a woman feels one way about you, only to realize you were wrong and one of these six girls was really the love of your life, would you ever forgive yourself? Does it really harm anything to continue with the process, see where it takes you? If you get to the end and none of these girls are right for you, there is still a world of women out there, but you can never get this chance back. I’d hate to see you go home to a lonely, loveless life when you could have found love here.”

Jack hesitated, the words
lonely, loveless life
echoing in his thoughts. Lou had run out without a word—would she have done that if she wanted to be with him? He’d come here to give her a chance at a life without him. What message would it send if he immediately went home, assuming she had fallen in love with him?

Uncertainty muddied everything. And it didn’t help that champagne had muddied his memories of the night before.

“Trust the process,” Pendleton intoned.

Jack closed his eyes, dreading those rings. “I’m sorry.”

Heels clicked across the pavers.

“Josh, go back to the girls. We’ll be right behind you.” Miranda appeared on the patio, glowering, tablet in hand. With a flick of her wrists, the cameras melted away.

“We’ll be right behind him?” Jack asked when they were alone—or as alone as anyone ever got in the Mansion.

Miranda approached him. He flinched when she reached around him, but she was just flicking off the microphone pack clipped to his waist. “So you finally woke up and smelled the awesome-sauce that is Lou, huh?”

“This doesn’t feel right anymore.”

“That’s sweet. I assume you have five million dollars to burn when the network sues you for breach of contract?”

His heart stuttered. “What?”

“You have to complete the show, Jack. I can give you some leeway, but you signed on the dotted line and for the next few weeks you’re still mine. Which means no declaring your love—or even
saying
the word love to anyone.
Anyone
, Jack. Whether she’s a Suitorette or someone else. Those are the rules you agreed to. Lou might love you. She might not. I will tell you that I asked her outright multiple times before I got you involved in this if she had feelings for you and she said no.”

Jack swallowed. He would have said no too back then. Did she feel differently now? He wished he could remember the night before more clearly. She’d said she wanted passion, but had she wanted it from him? She’d seemed to be enthusiastic about the kissing, but was that just the champagne and the moonlight? Had she run like that when Emma showed up because she needed an escape from the guy who was molesting her against her will?

Fuck
. If he could just talk to her…

“You signed up for this,” Miranda said, unflinching. “You can’t back out now and you can’t tell her how you feel. But I might be able to help you.”

“I’m guessing you have conditions.”

“Of course. If you want to woo Lou, I can help you, but the same rules apply to Lou as to the other girls. You won’t be able to contact her except when we sanction it. You won’t be able to explain. She has to suffer through the same uncertainty all our girls do. Understand?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not unless you like scores of contract lawyers driving their fists up your ass.”

“Lovely image.”

“I try.” Miranda folded her hands around her tablet. “Now, why don’t you head on back to the girls, make a nice little speech about how the pressure and the emotional importance of these decisions is getting to you, and pick the final four?” She smiled sweetly. “And don’t forget to turn your mic back on.”

Jack raked a hand through his hair. What choice did he have? “Yes, ma’am.”

~~~

“Omigod, he pulled the Jacuzzi move on you! That’s fantastic!”

Sitting at Kelly’s kitchen table, Lou couldn’t work up her friend’s degree of enthusiasm for the near-miss seduction. Of course, Kelly wasn’t the one who had to suffer through the mother of all champagne hangovers the next morning with two fussy children on a four hour plane ride.

“It’s such a classic Mr. Perfect tactic,” Kelly gushed. “A little champagne, a little hot water, and
voila
! Guaranteed nookie for the cameras. Works every time.”

“There were no cameras.” Thank God. That was about the only thing that could have made her mortification complete. “I didn’t realize I’d had so much to drink. Sure, it was on a mostly empty stomach, but it’s not like we were lining up tequila shots.”

Kelly nodded sagely. “Hot water. Opens the capillaries. It exaggerates the effect of the alcohol. That’s why hotels always have those signs about not drinking in the hot tub. Too easy to pass out and drown if you’re plastered. Massive liability.”

“
Marrying Mr. Perfect
isn’t worried about liability?”

“Well, there’s all the crew hanging around to fish the drunks out. And everyone has to sign waivers.”

Lou felt ill, and it had nothing to do with the hangover that had worn off by the time she got home yesterday afternoon. She’d become a
Marrying Mr. Perfect
cliché.

What had she been thinking? Reality television wasn’t the place to find out if they had a shot at something real. Nothing was real there.

That night had turned into one giant regret—what she could remember of it through the alcohol blur anyway.

Lou had taken Emma upstairs, realizing halfway up that she was being a total coward and fully intending to sneak back down after Em was out to clear the air with Jack, but when she lay down next to Emma, she passed out almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, thanks to the champagne. The next thing she remembered was a production assistant shaking her awake, shouting they were going to miss their flight. They’d made the flight, without a second to spare, and without so much as a goodbye wave from Jack who’d been whisked off on some urgent
Marrying Mr. Perfect
business.

She hadn’t heard a word from him since.

The silence probably didn’t mean anything. He had a ring ceremony the previous night and those could go late. With the time zones working against him, he wouldn’t have wanted to wake her or the kids. Today was the first of the Meet the In-laws dates. He’d be traveling and then spending all day with one of his lucky Suitorettes and wouldn’t have a second to spare for a quick call to let her know he hadn’t lost all respect for her because of the way she’d thrown herself all over him in the hot tub.

Lou groaned and dropped her forehead onto the table. “How did this happen?”

“You kissed him! Finally. Or he kissed you. Whatever. You kissed.” Kelly’s chipper voice showed just how immune to Lou’s depression she was. “I expect to be Matron of Honor, I’ll have you know.”

Lou looked up, checking her best friend for visible signs of dementia. “Kelly. We aren’t getting married. At the moment, we aren’t even speaking.”

“You aren’t
not
speaking. He just hasn’t called yet.” Kelly’s face took on the I-wrote-the-handbook expression she sometimes used when talking about
Marrying Mister Perfect
. “I’ve seen this a thousand times. He’s chosen his girl—by this time he’d be a moron not to have an idea which one he likes the best, and that one is obviously
you
—but he can’t tell anyone she’s his pick because of stupid contract stuff so he goes through the motions with the other girls, but really he’s
dying
inside waiting to see his special girl again.” She sighed, caught up in her own romantic fantasy.

“I’m not one of his girls.” At least, she’d never planned on being one. She didn’t want to be just another Suitorette, desperate for any sign of his affection, but somewhere between the zoo and the hot tub, she’d been sucked into the game.

“You’re right. You aren’t
one
of his girls. You’re
the
girl. Just wait, Lou. Trust Kelly. She’s knows these things.”

“She also refers to herself in the third person. I never trust someone who refers to herself in the third person.”

“Go ahead and mock me. We’ll see who has the last laugh when the finale airs.”

Lou’s stomach clenched at the thought of watching Jack propose to another woman. She wouldn’t be laughing.

“So, Jack. You think you can fall in love with four women at once, do you?”

Jack cringed. Was he ever getting sick of that question. Thank God this was the last time he’d have to face a protective papa who glowered at him and barked questions about how Jack was treating his baby girl.

This week had been sheer, unadulterated hell.

Four Meet the In-laws dates. Four families staring at him like he was an exhibit at the zoo. Four intimidating fathers glaring at him the exact same way he’d glare at any jerk who toyed with Emma’s heart. Four awkward interrogations about what it was like to “fall in love” with four women at the same time. It was four times as many times as any man should have to suffer through.

And it didn’t help that they were right. He was leading their daughters on.

He remembered meeting Lou’s parents for the first time. How easy they had made everything, how relaxed he’d been after the first five minutes. Her parents were so different from his own— with none of the obsession with competition and achievement. Their children were successful, but their love didn’t hinge on it.

This week felt less like that meeting and more like his first week as an intern, just trying to keep his head above water and not kill anyone.

Jack swallowed thickly, trying to come up with some BS answer that would satisfy the bearlike Mr. Henrickson without giving the producers fits. He was contractually forbidden from telling the truth—saying there was only one woman he was in love with, only one woman he could even imagine proposing to, if she even wanted him. And he hadn’t met her family this week. She wasn’t even officially a part of the show.

He’d always loved Lou as a member of his family, and attraction had begun to creep around the edges of his awareness of her in recent months, but it wasn’t until the show, when the producers were bludgeoning him with their encouragement to talk about his feelings, that he realized he might be
in
love with her. As far as his heart was concerned, that night in the Jacuzzi had sealed his fate.