Mr. April: A Celebrity Romance (Calendar Boys Book 4) Read online

  What even is my life?

  “Sweet Jesus,” I mutter under my breath. “Did that just happen?” I pinch myself for good measure, but he doesn’t disappear.

  I watch him as he picks up a big duffel bag and swings it over his shoulder before he strolls away up the street.

  I know he’s not homeless or anything, and that he can afford to stay wherever the hell he wants in any town in the world, let alone this one, but he just looks lonely… Like he has nowhere he really wants to go.

  I pull my eyes away from him and start the engine of my car.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Beckett

  “Legs for god damn days,” I mutter to myself as she strolls away from me.

  Blaire. I roll her name around and around my head.

  I haven’t been this intrigued by anything since long before I boarded a plane and flew halfway across the globe.

  I might be in one of the most beautiful countries in the world right now, but not one single sight has captivated my attention quite like the woman I just met.

  I don’t know what to do with myself now, or where I should go. I feel energised – I’m full of excitement and all she did was speak to me.

  I don’t know what the hell that was; I’ve never felt a connection quite so instant.

  I walk over to a board advertising ‘the sights’ of this small town I’ve found myself in.

  It’s not all that different from the place I grew up in as a kid, but it couldn’t be further from the concrete jungle I now call home.

  “Beckett.” I hear my name being called from somewhere, but unlike I normally would, I don’t feel a sense of panic, instead, I feel an overwhelming wave of anticipation wash over me.

  There’s only one person here who knows my name, and I’m more than happy to see her again.

  I follow the sound of her voice and that thrum of energy pulsing through me heightens when my eyes settle on her.

  She’s pulled over on the side of the street, her indicator flashing.

  Her window is down and she’s leaning over her passenger seat to call out to me.

  “Blaire.” I smirk. “Long time, no see.”

  She blushes.

  “Have you got anything to do today?” she asks me.

  I shake my head. I haven’t got anything at all on the agenda for once in my life.

  She doesn’t speak for a minute, but when she does, she surprises me with what she says.

  “Do you wanna go for a drive?”

  I know my manager would kill me for this, but I don’t give a shit. He’s part of the reason I fled the country.

  “With you?” I question.

  “With me.” She smiles shyly, her earlier blush still colouring her cheeks, and just like that, I’m sold.

  I nod my head, grab my bag and climb into her car without giving it so much as a second thought.

  ***

  “Tell me what you’ve already seen and then I’ll think of something else to show you.”

  She’s already showing me plenty.

  I look over at her bare, golden legs and clear my throat in the hopes that it’ll clear my head too.

  “The bus station,” I reply. “I’ve seen the bus station.”

  I can’t get over how good it smells in here. I don’t know what it is – if it’s her – but I can’t get enough of it.

  It’s a fucking mess in here though. I’m starting to wonder if she lives in this car.

  She glances at me before looking back at the road. “The bus station? That’s it?”

  I shrug. “And the street where I met you.”

  She flicks on her indicator and pulls into a vacant park before twisting in her seat to look at me.

  “You came here on a bus?”

  “I didn’t want to have to show my license at a car rental company.” I shrug.

  “That’s insane. How long have you been bussing around?”

  I shrug again. “What’s the date today?” I ask her.

  “The twenty-third.”

  I count backwards to the date I got on the plane.

  “About two and a half weeks.”

  She gapes at me. “That sounds terrible... On a bus?”

  I nod.

  “Lord. You really have been slumming it.”

  I chuckle at her outrage. “It’s not so bad; I stayed at some really nice hotels on my way.”

  “And no one has recognised you?”

  I shake my head. “Not that I know of… I haven’t been informed that I’m on anyone else’s hall pass list anyway.” I wink at her.

  She groans and covers her pretty brown eyes with her hands. “I can’t believe I said that out loud. I could die.”

  “I’m flattered.”

  “Well I’m glad you feel that way, because I, for one, am humiliated beyond belief.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed – honestly, I’m a little proud of myself.”

  “I’m sure you are.”

  I chuckle. “You know what I really want to know?”

  “I’m scared to ask,” she replies with a grimace.

  “Who else is on that list?”

  She shakes her head and tries to bite back a smile. “Nah uh. There’s no way I’m telling you that.”

  “Oh, go on.”

  “I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation right now. Is this even happening? Is any of this real?” She laughs in disbelief as she looks out the window and then back at me again.

  I find myself smiling along with her – just like the people in the street earlier.

  She’s so warm. Everything about her radiates warmth and kindness.

  It’s not something I’ve come across in a long time.

  I feel drawn to her in a way I can’t explain. I could sit here for a long time, soaking up her presence and watching the curve of her lips as she smiles.

  “It feels pretty real to me,” I tell her.

  She sighs deeply as her lids flutter shut before opening again and focusing intently on my face.

  “Alright. Get it together, Blaire. You’re in the car with Beckett Thorn and you’re going to show him the sights. You can do this.” She shakes out her arms and tips her head from side to side like she’s psyching herself up.

  “Good pep talk,” I say with amusement. “Very encouraging.”

  She grins at me, and my stomach flips.

  “Right. Do you want to see something other than the bus station?”

  Right now I’ll go and see anything as long as she’s the one taking me.

  “Sure.”

  “You don’t have to sound so excited,” she teases as she flicks her indicator over and pulls us back out into the street.

  Every now and then she picks up the smoothie cup that I nearly sent flying, and sucks deep on the straw, and damn, what I wouldn’t give to be that straw.

  “I’m still waiting for you to tell me who else was on that list. That’ll get me really excited.”

  I watch the side of her face as her mouth twitches with amusement. “How about I make you a deal… You tell me your secrets, and I’ll tell you mine.”

  “Sounds fair. You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

  My agent, manager and publicist would all be ready to string me up by my balls for this, but for the first time in a long time, I’m not worried about non-disclosure agreements or someone running to the media. Maybe that makes me a fool, but so be it.

  She glances at me out the corner of her eye, her brow raised. “This isn’t show and tell.”

  I tip my head at her. “Tell – no show. Got it.”

  She giggles and it’s such a sweet sound.

  “So, tell me what you’re really doing here.”

  “I told you –”

  “The real reason,” she interrupts with a no-nonsense tone.

  Fair enough.

  “I never really wanted to be famous.”

  “Really?” she asks, surprise colouring her voice. “Seems like an odd choice of occupation
then.”

  I nod in agreement. “There’s famous and then there’s famous. I was quite happy being a B-list celebrity.”

  “I guess ‘A Shift in Time’ changed all that?”

  I know that half the population has probably seen that film by now, but it still gives me a thrill to know that she’s heard of it too.

  “You’ve seen it?” I ask.

  A smile lights up her face. “Three times.”

  “Three?” I question.

  “Once just wasn’t enough.” She sighs. “I needed to see it twice. The third time was just to enjoy the view…”

  “What was your favourite part?” I ask her and I’m suddenly desperate to know the answer.

  I see a blush creep onto her cheeks, and I know what she’s going to say before she’s even said it.

  There’s a shower scene where I get pretty up close and personal with the camera in my birthday suit.

  My grin deepens.

  “So that’s how I wound up on the list, huh?”

  She brings her hand to her forehead in embarrassment. “You have a really nice ass.”

  I chuckle. That’s not what I was expecting her to say at all.

  I think it might be about time that I accepted that Blaire isn’t anything like what I’d expect.

  “Stunt double,” I tell her.

  Her eyes widen and she looks at me in shock. “You’re joking?”

  I chuckle again. “I am. That ass is all mine, baby.”

  “Oh, thank God, I think I would have lost faith in the film industry all together.” She breathes a sigh of relief.

  “I’d hate to see you boycott movies because of my butt.”

  She drags her bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it again.

  It’s nothing, but it makes me want to try it myself. I’d kill to have those full lips between my teeth.

  I clear my throat and pull my eyes from her mouth. “Do you have a job?”

  “Other than being a celebrity chauffeur you mean?” she quips, her expression amused.

  I huff out a laugh.

  “I work for myself. I’m a designer… I do websites, marketing… sometimes even book covers and stuff.”

  She’s a creative type – I should have guessed.

  “That’s cool. You should make me a website or something.”

  She laughs. “Have you Googled yourself lately?”

  I shake my head.

  “Trust me, you’re covered… or actually incredibly uncovered, as luck would have it.” She sniggers and I can’t help but smile – even if it is at the expense of my dignity.

  “I’m starting to think you might be one of those crazy fans.”

  She clutches her chest dramatically with one hand while the other rests on the steering wheel.

  “I ‘might be’? Wash your mouth out. I’ve been a fangirl ever since you did that terrible movie five years ago.”

  I groan. Terrible is her being generous. I was hoping she was a new found fan, but no – she had to see me at my absolute worst.

  “I looked like a skinny, emo teenager in that movie.”

  She giggles. “You’ve certainly come into your own, but I liked you back then too. I thought you were sweet… even if they did go a little heavy on the eyeliner.”

  “I was not sweet. I looked like a serial killer.”

  She laughs a little louder.

  “Well,” I announce. “I think we’ve talked quite enough about me, surely I’m owed a name from that sex list after reliving movies I’d rather forget.”

  “Please don’t call it a sex list,” she groans as she pulls into a car park and turns off the engine.

  I haven’t paid one scrap of attention to where we were going, but wherever it is, we’re here now it would seem.

  “We’re here,” she announces, mirroring my thoughts as she undoes her seat belt and reaches for her door handle.

  My hand snakes out and grabs her arm, pulling her back. “Not so fast there, speedy, you owe me a name.”

  She lets out a small gasp of breath as our skin meets, her eyes darting down to look at my hand before trailing back up my arm.

  Her face flames and it’s only then that it occurs to me, she hasn’t got a cake of makeup on her face. I’ve been in show biz long enough to know that she gets her eye brows shaped and that she might have a little bit of something on her face, but in the world I come from, she may as well be naked.

  She does that thing again where she drags her bottom lip between her teeth and I have to mentally chant to myself that she’s married – that she’s not available – that I can’t reach out and take her.

  “You have a tattoo.” She points to my bicep where my t-shirt sleeve has ridden up.

  “I have three. They edit them out in the movies.”

  “Huh, what is it?”

  “Nice try on the subject change.” I raise my brow at her as I wait. “A name, Blaire.”

  “Fine.” She sighs, and I take that as a sign that I can let go of her.

  “Bradley Cooper.”

  “Good choice.” I nod in approval as I unclip my belt. “Now c’mon, let’s go.”

  It’s her hand that reaches for mine this time. “That’s it? No teasing? No giving me shit about it?”

  I shake my head in amusement and open my door. Her hand feels warm and soft on my skin and it’s making me want to touch her again. I need to get out and get some air before I drive myself insane.

  She meets me around the front of her car.

  “So, Bradley huh…”

  She rolls her eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t say nothing.”

  I hold up my hands in surrender. “Hey, no judgement here, he’s a nice guy, and I guess he’s hot if you’re into dudes.”

  She stops dead in her tracks and pulls me to a stop with her. “I’m sorry, what? You actually know Bradley Cooper?”

  “I do.” I tap the end of her nose. “But I don’t call him by his full name, because that would be weird.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Blaire

  “Oh, it’s a boardwalk.”

  “It’s not a ‘boardwalk’, it’s a walkway. You’re not in Kansas anymore.”

  “You know I auditioned once for a remake of that movie,” he says, amusement dancing in his eyes.

  “Lion, tin man or scarecrow?”

  “I’m insulted that you don’t think I could pull off Dorothy.”

  I reach out for a strand of his shaggy hair, even though I know it’s a bad idea to keep touching him like this. “You keep letting this mop grow and I think you’ll make a very pretty Dorothy in no time,” I tease.

  He grins at me, that crooked smile that keeps taking my breath away, and I physically pinch myself one more time, just to check I’m still not dreaming.

  I’m not.

  Beckett Thorn got in my car and I didn’t even have to tie him up and gag him to make it happen.

  And from what I can gather, he plans to get back in again, because his big bag is still in the backseat where he tossed it.

  And perhaps what is even more shocking than the fact we’re here together, is just how normal it feels.

  We walk in comfortable silence for about one hundred metres along the walkway that stretches along the coast.

  It’s not that warm out yet, so it’s pretty quiet, which is perfect given the undercover celebrity situation I’ve somehow managed to find myself in.

  I’m confident Beckett won’t get recognised out here. He’s still wearing his baseball cap, but his glasses are slung in the neck of his shirt where he put them when he first showed me those brilliant, bright blue eyes.

  “So… You’re married,” he prompts.

  I nod my head. “Yeah, ah… for about two years?”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Harvey,” I tell him as I watch the ground in front of me.

  “Do you like being married?”

  My eyes snap up from the footpath to his face. “What do you mean?”

&nb
sp; “You don’t exactly sound excited about it… I dunno, I just thought that if I found someone I wanted to marry and spend the rest of my life with, I’d be a bit more enthusiastic about it than you seem to be.”

  I attempt to cover my nervous energy with a shrug. I don’t know the man next to me at all, yet in about thirty seconds he’s seen something my friends and family have failed to see for a while now.

  Only my closest friend, Jen, knows how unhappy I am.

  I shrug. “I don’t know… I wouldn’t say I’m excited about it... I mean, it’s fine. It’s real life. It’s not like the movies.”

  “Why can’t it be like the movies?”

  “Because we’re not all actors like you.” I smile nervously up at him.

  He looks sceptical – as though my answer doesn’t satisfy him in some way or another.

  He nods slowly as he studies my face. “Does he treat you well?”

  I think about Harvey and our life together. It’s just… life.

  It’s not what I imagined when I was younger, but it’s not all bad.

  I have someone to come home to every night. He knows my favourite food. He knows to leave me alone when I’m reading a book or watching a movie… He calls to let me know he’ll be late most of the time. But there’s just no… spark left between us… Maybe there never really was.

  It guilts me to think about it, but Beckett has made my heart race more in the past half hour than Harvey has in the last year.

  “He treats me fine.”

  I could tell him that Harvey is a total asshole when he drinks, or that he forgot my birthday this year. I could tell him that sometimes I feel like slapping my husband because he acts as though my job isn’t as important as his… But I won’t.

  I do love my husband; I’m just not sure I like him most of the time.

  “You’re a terrible actress,” Beckett says, pulling me back to the present.

  “I’m not acting.”

  “If you say so.”

  He’s looking at me again, and I don’t know how he does that. I can feel his stare. It’s like he’s a spider, and with every glance he builds another string of web between us.

  We’re becoming more and more connected with each minute that ticks by and I don’t know whether I should be running from this particular spider or waiting eagerly for him to tangle me up and swallow me whole.