Before A Perfect World: Movie Trilogy, Book Two (The Movie Trilogy) (18 page)

“Space?” I dropped my hands to my hips, narrowing my eyes at her. “I know you well enough to know that
space
is usually a precursor to you running away from your problems.”

“
I’m not running away.”

“Do you want to call him?”

She looked at me blankly. “Him?” she repeated, her eyes narrowed.

“Him.
The teacher. Peter fucking Parker.”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes
at my glasses joke and turning away from me. “No! Am I worried about our families? Yes. Do I care about his safety? Of
course
I do!”

“He keeps calling you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Too bad.”

She turned her fiery gaze on me. “Who in the fuck do you think you’re talking to? You don’t own me, Keaton. You may feel like you marched into my fucking factory in your perfect Navy uniform and ‘carried me off into the sunset,’ but you
didn’t
. I was my own person when you
found
me, and I still am. Me
loving
you doesn’t mean ownership. It means partnership.”

I dropped my arms to my sides, taking a step toward her.

She held her ground, keeping her eyes focused on mine.

“First, fuck your air
quotes,” I replied smoothly. “Points for the
An Officer and a Gentleman
reference. And as far as me owning you…”

I backed her up to the bed, and she took a trembling breath.

“
Don’t
,” she protested weakly.

“I own what I do to you. How I make you feel. I own the way that you respond to me. That belongs to me.
You
belong to me, V. If you want me to cater to your moodiness, I will. But I won’t like it, and I’m not shy about letting you know.”

I reached for the waist of her jeans, tugging her to me. When my hand pulled too easily, I looked down, lifting the base of her t-shirt.

She’d taken a rubber band, somehow looping it through the buttonhole of her jeans to add an extra half an inch.

“I don’t think I’m showing,
” she began shakily, “but it’s just uncomfortable around my waist. It’s too chilly today for a dress.”

I shook my head, narrowing my eyes and dropping my forehead to hers. “Vivian, do you know what my net worth is?”

Her eyes narrowed. “This is a quick and arrogant change in subject. No, please enlighten me.”

“I’m not being arrogant.
You’ve agreed to marry me. Like you said, that is a partnership. A
legal
partnership. Now, listen to me.”

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m listening, Keaton.”

“Good.” I took a step closer, as far into her personal space as I could get without kissing the fuck out of her pouty little mouth. “I’m worth approximately eight million dollars, with all said and done after my divorce. That is four million less than two years ago. It’s
half
as much as I plan to be worth by next year at this time.”

I saw her swallow, her eyes misting over.

“Are you asking me for a prenuptial agreement?” she asked softly.

“
No, I’m not asking you to sign a prenuptial agreement, regardless of what my lawyers are begging me to do.” I tugged at her makeshift waistband. “I’m asking you to
let me take care
of you. Let me hear what you’ve been thinking about for three long, miserable days. And let me buy you a pair of jeans that fucking fit, goddamnit.”

Her chin
quivered, and a single tear slid down her cheek.

“Okay?”

She nodded quickly, her hands trembling as she reached for her hair.

“Okay.”

“Talk, kiddo.”

“I’m afraid. For my parents. For Matthew. If anything happened to them, my heart would break.
Again
. And if anything happened to me,
or the baby,
” she gasped, forcing the tears away, “or
you Keaton
… I’m so afraid to think about losing you… this maniac is after you, and I… I love you,” she cried, finally breaking down.

“Hey,” I said, my voice even, calming. “Come here.”

She folded into my arms, her grip on my shoulders almost bruising. “
I can be myself with you.
You’ve become the first person that I
want
to see every morning. The only one I want to tell my secrets to. I trust you. I trust you not to lie to me, or hurt me, or give up on me. You accept me for who I am, even when I’m stupid, or mean, and
I can’t lose you,
” she sobbed.

“
V,” I breathed, smoothing my hand over her back. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m in love with your stupid, mean ass. Oh, and you forgot overly dramatic.”

“You make jokes, but people are dying, Keaton,” she burst angrily.

“We’re not dealing with some idiot on a rampage,” I countered. “He’s meticulous, and he plans shit out. Which makes him easier to find, and a faster fuck-up. Have you never seen one episode of
CSI?
He’s going to jerk off on the wrong crime scene, they’ll pull DNA, and he’s finished. It’s only a matter of time.”

She took a steadying breath, pulling away to look up at me. Her eyes were a watery sea of blue and green, and I brushed my thumb against a wayward tear on her cheek.

“Keaton,” she began. “I think, for the press, we should break up.”

I froze, narrowing my eyes. “What?”

“Listen. Just hear me out. And I’ve already run this past Emmet, and he’s agreed.”

“Okay, so you lay in bed ignoring
me
for three days but called my PR guy?”

“For the press only. We break up. Cause all kinds of drama, fire up the tabloids. It only adds to the publicity for the movie, right?”

I stepped back, crossing my arms. “And things remain the same, behind the scenes.”

“Yes, of course,” she went on. “
And you have to make it seem like it was your idea.”

“So the killer will think that you don’t matter to me. Shifting the focus away from you.” I tried to think through all possible scenarios, and she nodded quickly.

“I hate how selfish this feels, like it’s only about me, but-”

“No, it’s not selfish, and you’re right.” I let myself be serious for a moment, resting my hands at her waist. “If putting on a show means drawing his attention away from you, then I’ll do it.”

“I was so stupid to announce that I was pregnant at the ball,” she admitted, her eyes pleading. “And if you do this, it’s going to make the world think that you’re a giant asshole. I
hate
that. But we can come out with the real story when it’s all over… when they catch him.
If
they catch him.”

“
I don’t care what anyone thinks, as long as you’re safe.”

“We have to keep the set very secure,” she went on. “Emmet said the paparazzi will catch us, even when we think we’re
completely
alone. But I’m still sleeping with you every night, no matter what.”

“I’ll make it work. There are some tents, some tunnels that we can set up to mask the trailer entrances.” I considered her idea for a long moment. “I’ll be so busy on the set, anyway, we won’t have much time off-line to begin with. As long as I can see you at all times, I’m okay with this.”

“Emmet thought you would be.”

“
It sounds like you two make a good team. You should let him take you shoe shopping. He’s got great taste, and I’m so fucking sick of seeing you in flip-flops.”

She paused, and then broke into a tearful giggle, shaking her head at me. “Keaton!”

“What? Again. I have millions of dollars. Let’s cover those toes, kiddo.”

She sighed deeply, looking down at her feet. “They’re swollen.”

“What?”

I felt like I’d been punched in the throat.

“Just a little…”

Dropping to my knees, I reached for her calf, and she stumbled, falling back to the bed.
“For how long?”

“Keaton, it’s okay-”

“It’s not okay. I’m not waiting another week for your next appointment. Get your ugly flip-flops on, we’re going.”

I expected her to argue, but instead, she reached for her sweater, nodding.

“Give me a minute.”

I waited impatiently while she used the bathroom and washed her face. Thankful that I’d arranged to have my Audi driven home a week ago, I grabbed the keys. Rushing out the door with her, I nearly smacked right into the police officer in the hallway.

“Where are we going?” he asked. I growled under my breath, gesturing to Vivian’s stomach.

“Doctor. You want to follow? I’m leaving now.”

He nodded, moving slightly to talk into his earpiece. Ignoring him, I charged to the elevator.

“It’s probably nothing,” Vivian assured me gently. “I keep thinking we’re overreacting, but then I… remember…”

“Don’t think about it,” I ordered, jabbing the button for the ground floor.

…

Two hours later, we were on the receiving end of a lecture about keeping a “peaceful aura.”

“
Remember, your uterus is growing, and to compensate, blood flow must increase. Have you read the book that I recommended?
Deep Breathing, Logical Thinking?
” Dr. Grey encouraged, handing Vivian a small Hermes bag. She reached inside, pulling a blue scarf from the tissue paper nest. “I saw this and thought of your worried eyes, Vivian. Wear this, and when you become anxious, lift the scarf to dangle in front of your lips. If the scarf does not move, then you are not breathing deeply enough.”

“Thank you,” Vivian replied tentatively, sending me a sideways glance.

“Great. I’ll take the scarf and an ultrasound to go,” I said, pointing at the door. “Hook her up. I’m not putting her on a plane until I see my baby.”

Dr. Grey
gave a small nod, obviously struggling with patience. “Of course.”

Two more hours later, Vivian sat between
me and the window, running her finger over the thin ultrasound snapshot. “Perfect. Nothing wrong. And growing,” she murmured.

“We make beautiful fetuses,” I agreed, and she chuckled, dropping her head to my shoulder.

“Look at her profile. She looks like you,” she said, handing me the picture. “Her nose is crooked.”

“That’s not her nose.”

“What do you mean? Yes it is, right here.”

“That’s her big mouth. Like her mother.”

“I can’t wait to break up with you in public.”

I laughed, leaning to kiss her thoroughly. “I guess I’d better work on my acting skills.”

“Hmm.” She tucked her hand over my thigh, curling closer to my side. “Well, I’ve got some notes for you, too,” she taunted.

“Fair enough,” I replied,
settling back against my seat.

The flight was less than two hours. When we landed
in Ogden, Frank and a police officer were already waiting to escort us to the set. “You kids look beat. Salter’s already on the set.”

“Who else is there?” I asked, ignoring his comment.

“Maya Murray, Zachary Cole. Trent Cassidy is flying in this evening.”

“Trent Cassidy? I didn’t know that you’d cast him,” Vivian said, her eyes wide. “He’
s going to be the detective?”

“
Between Ash and Trent, the internet is already buzzing. Seems like Max was hell-bent on casting for beauty, not brains in this film.”

“
Hey, fuck you!” Vivian snapped, and both Frank and I, and the police officer, turned to her suddenly.

She flushed, covering her mouth.

“Tell us how you really feel, V,” I murmured, smirking.

“I’m sorry. Hormones?” she tried, and Frank grinned, dropping his arm over her shoulder.

“I knew I liked your smart mouth since the first time I talked to you,” Frank said, laughing. “And no, that comment wasn’t intended for
you
. You’ve got beauty and brains, sweetheart. I don’t know about your choices in men, though,” he chuckled, and I rolled my eyes, letting Vivian slide into the limo before me.

“
Ash and Trent are both hot in the new adult group. Zachary is older, and popular with the thirties and forties,” I explained. “Max’s intent was to draw in next summer’s younger crowd. Date movie.”

Vivian’s brows knitted in thought.
“John will be my husband. That’s Ash. He’s the detective.” She started digging her script out of her bag. “Trent is Ash’s partner, and he’s in love with me. Zach is the killer.”

“Right.”

“And Maya is my friend, and she dies.”

“Dinner?” I asked Frank, changing the subject. Vivian smoothed her white, sleeveless dress, and I was thankful the air was much warmer than I’d expected for the mountains. “V? You hungry, baby?”