Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Except tonight.
“Cameras out in full force,” he told Catie after taking a look outside the window. “Not to sound big-headed, but I think it’s for us.”
Catie leaned over to take a look. “Day-um.” She whistled as Danny pointed out the host of the biggest entertainment show in the country. “People are that invested in us being an us?”
“I guess so.” It surprised him too—he’d expected a little interest, but this was next level. “Unless someone else super famous is coming and we don’t know? Or it’s a slow news day? Not that it matters. Still works for what we need.”
But when Danny stepped out and turned to hold out his hand for Catie’s, the camera flashes all but blinded him. Yep, the media had turned out for him and Catie. Which would have been kind of terrifying if Catie hadn’t winked at him from inside the vehicle before she stepped out.
And suddenly he was grinning too. “Come on, princess,” he said, the two of them far enough away from the cameras that no one was going to pick up his voice over the shouting of the photographers.
He made sure he had a firm grip on Catie as she stepped out. He didn’t know how solidly Leon’s crew had laid out the red carpet, and who knew if they’d cleared away any ice underneath.
Catie gave him a hard glance as she exited. “You trying to break my hand?”
“Nope. Just doing my best to keep us both from face-planting. Pretty sure this red carpet is from the dollar store.” Leon had done his best with his meager budget, but the thing would only look like a plush carpet in pictures. In person, it was less carpet and more a curtain placed on the ground.
Catie glanced down for a second, and when she looked back up, the pinched look was gone from her eyes. “It’s ripping at the corners.” She pursed her lips after that whisper. “Your poor friend.”
“At least people are too focused on us to notice.” He angled his arm.
Tucking her hand into the crook, she said, “If we’d made a spectacle of ourselves before this, he could’ve probably gotten a sponsored freebie.”
“Next time,” he said, not thinking about it.
Before Catie could respond, the media’s cries for them to turn around became an overwhelming chorus.
“Showtime,” he muttered under his breath and slipped his arm around Catie’s waist while she did the same to him.
Her sleek sprinter’s curves fit perfectly against him, her skin warm gold under the bright lights and the glow from the standing heaters Leon had managed to finagle. Glancing at her as she laughed at something a reporter had said, he was struck by just how beautiful his childhood nemesis had grown up to be, all sleek hair of dark auburn and sparkling bright eyes, her confidence stamped on her skin.
Leaving aside her uncharacteristic “poochy” comment earlier, which could be explained by the general craziness of the current situation, the only physical thing about which Catie was ever touchy were her legs.
Danny hadn’t understood why when he was younger, but he’d grown up in the interim—and he’d seen how some people treated her. It infuriated him as much as it did her. She was so eminently capable that she could outdo most people any day of the week, and still there were idiots who tried to infantilize her.
He always had to fight his instincts to step in and put them straight. He knew better than that. Catie wouldn’t thank him for playing knight in rugby armor. Instead, he’d learned to stand back and watch the show—as Catie took them down with acerbic wit and sharp commentary that drew blood.
She’d gotten very, very good at it over the years.
So yeah, he understood her touchiness on that point. He just wished that after so long, she’d figure out that he wasn’t one of the idiots.
“What?” she said at that moment, having turned to look at him.
“Stop scowling,” he said with a scowl. “How are we going to sell this if we’re glaring at each other?”
She shrugged. “Please. No one will believe it if we’re lovey-dovey.” A sudden, dazzling grin, a wicked glint in her eye.
That same glint had led to sandburn on his butt back when they’d been teenagers. The family had gone camping near dunes that weren’t a habitat for native birds or grasses and so were open for recreation. Catie had come up with the idea of sliding down the dunes on some cardboard boxes they’d salvaged, then flattened.
Since Jake had gone off on a beach walk with their dad, it had been just him and Catie.
The makeshift sand-sleds had worked fine the first five or so times.
That day had also been one of the only times Catie had ever accepted his help. It had been a bitch going back up the dune, and she’d finally decided that it would be no fun if she was still trying to trudge up after a single ride while he was sailing down again and again. So she’d allowed him to assist her back up—and even at fifteen, he’d known not to make a big deal of it.