Page 6 of Ready, Willing and Abel (Dog Tags #6)

chapter

six

Esme

In most of the shots you can’t really see much of my face because it looks like I’m sucking him off.

I ignore the shiver of pleasure that thrums through my body at the thought of this man’s dick in my mouth.

But there is one shot in particular where I’m facing the camera, clearly right after I gave him my hat.

I know it’s me. Mia would know it was me.

It’s doubtful anyone else would.

But still, this is obviously a problem for him. Because why would he want to be photographed with a fat farm girl?

I wipe the tears from my face because really? Who else would this happen to but me? That whole day was just like from Bizzaro World.

I hand the publicist—I think she said her name was Tish—back the tablet.

“Well, that’s kinda embarrassing,” I say. Not really because I’m embarrassed, but because I’m sure he is. I glance up to find him watching me. “Sorry.”

He frowns. “Why are you sorry?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. My field? My brilliant idea to cut off your pants.”

“Your brilliant idea saved me from a lot of pain.”

“Wait, so it really was about a cactus?” Tish asks.

He rolls his eyes. “I told you that.”

“I thought you were just making it up,” the publicist says.

“No. I legitimately fell into a cactus, or cacti. To be honest, I didn’t look to see if it was one or more than one. She had to cut my jeans off because they were burrowing the spines deeper into my skin. It hurt like a mother fucker.”

“Interesting. Well, regardless. I need you to sign this.” Tish holds her tablet back out to me.

“Is that a fucking NDA?” Abel asks.

Tish ignores him.

“I told you she didn’t need to sign anything like that. I think she’s proven she’s trustworthy. She could have sold pictures of me or the story,” Abel says.

“I would never,” I say.

He holds his hand out. “See?”

“I’m sure she’s very trustworthy, but someone has to have your best interests at heart,” Tish says.

“I don’t mind signing it.” I take the tablet and glance over the legal document. Then I sign my name. “I will admit that I told my sister about that day. But she would never betray my trust.”

“We might need to have her sign it as well,” Tish says.

“What about Evan? Does he need to sign it, too?” Abel asks, clearly impatient.

“Stop being so dramatic, Abel,” Tish chides.

“I can give you my sister’s email address, if you need it,” I tell the publicist. “What’s next?”

“Well, since the story isn’t exactly believable,” Tish begins, “I’ve come up with a perfect solution. Abel was here in this charming town visiting his brother, and the two of you met. And now you’re dating.”

I look over at her so hard, I think I might have whiplash. “What?”

“A fake relationship. Just for the cameras. Doesn’t have to be a long one. Eventually something else will catch everyone’s attention online and you can quietly end your affair.”

I glance over at Abel, and he’s got his arms over his chest, and he’s just standing there. Nothing on his beautiful, perfectly sculpted face gives away his thoughts on this development. Maybe this is what people always do in Hollywood. Does that mean none of the famous relationships are real?

No, of course not. I’ve seen some in this very town. Jess and Grady are adorable together and obviously very much in love.

“How does something like this work?” I ask.

Tish doesn’t look up, just clicks away on her tablet. “We need to find something public for you to attend. We’ll tip off some trusted photographers so we get better pictures.”

“What about the other photos?” I ask.

“Truthfully, we’ll just let people think you got freaky in a field. I won’t issue a comment on them. If you’re viewed as a couple, people won’t think it’s so scandalous.”

“If you say so,” I say.

“Are you worried about your reputation?” Abel asks me. “Like for your business?”

“Oh, no. I was thinking about you. No one will know me out there. And the people here, they’ll believe the real story if I tell it.”

“They’ll believe he just fell over in a cactus?” Tish asks.

“It’s Texas. We have a lot of cactus. If you’re not careful, it’s easy to do,” I explain. “But also snakes and other things you have to worry about out in the fields.”

“Snakes?” Tish shudders.

“It’s why most people around here keep shotguns. The road runners take care of a lot of them though.” I shrug. “It’s just country life.”

Another shudder, which just makes me chuckle.

“Can I see your phone?” Abel asks me.

It startles me that he’s standing so close since I didn’t see him approach. If he’d been a snake, well… I wouldn’t have my shotgun in time.

Without a thought, I hand it to him. He types something on it, then switches to his own phone, and then they both chime.

“Now I can contact you, Esme.”

I swallow thickly. “Right. For our fake date.”

“Or just to say good morning,” he says with a wink.

Oh Lord, I don’t know if my heart is going to survive this ordeal. After they leave, I pace around my house—which admittedly doesn’t take long—trying to figure out how to tell Mia.

In the end, I just text her that I need her to come over after work. That it’s not a scary emergency, but I still need her help.