Summer Kisses (306 page)

She gave a soft laugh and he reveled in the sound.

“It’s all ice cream for dinner and jumping on the furniture around here without you,” she teased.

“I miss all the good stuff,” he mock-grumbled, loving the easy banter, the removal of that distance that had plagued them for the last couple days.

“I’m sure they have you on a strict no-ice-cream diet until after all the shirtless shots are in the can.”

Jack laughed. He climbed onto the massive California King bed, stacked pillows and reclined against them, the phone pressed to his ear. “You aren’t far off,” he admitted. “There’s a private chef here to make sure I’m eating healthy. And a maid who hung up all my shirts.”

Lou groaned. “That isn’t reality. Those poor girls are going to be suckered in by your spotless house. It’ll be quite a shock when they realize what a slob you are when you don’t have a maid picking up after you.”

“Hey, I’m not a slob.”

“Excuse me, but as someone who has never seen your bedroom floor without a layer of dirty laundry on it, I beg to differ.”

“Laundry isn’t a mess. It’s clothes. Most of ‘em are clean.”

“Just because you can’t smell it from across the room doesn’t make it clean.”

Jack closed his eyes, soothed by the normalcy of their conversation. They could have been goading one another from opposite sides of the couch in his living room instead of half a country apart. It was exactly what he’d needed so he could feel at home.

“So, other than the maid, anything newsworthy happening?”

“The house is insane. Wait till you come visit. The kids are going to go nuts in the pool.”

“I’ll make sure we pack the water wings.” He could hear the smile in her voice. Then, after a slight hesitation, she went on. “When do you meet the girls?”

“Wednesday night. They’re flying in from all over the world.”

“I was talking to Kelly today. She says you shouldn’t keep any of them around just because they kiss you on the first night. She says that’s a sure sign of a tramp who’s just using the show for publicity.”

He laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. Kelly’s the expert.”

“She really is making you a
Marrying Mr. Perfect
instruction manual to help you pick a keeper. I’m under orders to bring a working draft with me when I come next weekend. And I’m supposed to relay instructions to you until then so you don’t pick a lemon.”

“I could use all the help I can get.” Jack settled deeper into the pillow, closing his eyes and concentrating on the familiarity of her voice. “Just give me the game plan, coach.”

They talked into the night, like they often did at home. All that was missing was their scarred kitchen table and a couple mugs of decaf.

It didn’t even occur to him until he hung up the phone hours later that he had spent the first night of his new adventure trying to feel like he was still back home.

~~~

Jack stood in a beautiful stone courtyard, sweating in a three-piece-suit and viselike shoes. He yanked at his collar, trying to loosen the noose-like tie and a production assistant detached from the crewpeople clustered at the other side of the courtyard.

She scurried over to him and jerked the tie back to quasi-asphyxiation tightness before pulling out a compact and dabbing at his temples with pancake make-up. “You’re sweating a lot,” she commented cheerfully. “Nerves?”

“It’s eighty-five degrees and I’m wearing wool. Sweat is inevitable.”

“It’s a wool blend, actually,” she corrected in the same irritatingly chipper tone. “Don’t worry. The Suitorette mansion is air-conditioned down to about fifty degrees so all the girls will be suitably perky and inclined to cuddle up to you. And the forecast says it’ll cool off by midnight, so by the time we’re back out here for the Elimination Ceremony you’ll be grateful for the jacket. And not to worry, we’ll have space heaters for the girls in the slinky dresses. It really slows production when we have to bring in the docs to treat for frostbite.” She grinned.

Jack didn’t think she was kidding. He decided he wasn’t touching most of that statement and focused on the most ominous part. “This is going to last past midnight?” It was barely dusk. His feet were going to be bloody from these damn shoes within the hour.

“First night’s always an all-nighter.” She gave his forehead sweat one last pat and tucked the pancake away. “If you’re feeling drowsy, we’ve got Red Bull by the bucket. Just give a wave and we’ll bring you one. We strongly advise against alcohol on the first night, at least for you. Though you can have one to calm your nerves if you need it. The girls will be drinking, of course, but we want our Mr. Perfect to have a clear head as much as possible tonight.”

He’d worked his share of all-nighters at the hospital, but he had a feeling tonight was going to be more exhausting than his ER rotation.

Miranda clacked across the courtyard, ubiquitous tablet in hand. “Sexy Jack! I think we’re about set inside. Are you ready to meet the girl of your dreams and begin the journey to your happily ever after?”

“Absolutely.” Jack forced a smile and a degree of enthusiasm he couldn’t make himself feel.

“Excellent!” Miranda beamed. She seemed genuinely happy today. High on the excitement of the show’s launch or maybe she’d crushed a third world country this morning on her quest to world domination. “I know we’ve been over this a million times and Josh will be going over everything with you step by step, but just to refresh, our host Josh Pendleton will greet you out here then escort you inside where each of the girls has been set up in a room that represents them in some way—musical girls will have a piano, that sort of thing. They get one minute—exactly sixty seconds, and we will be counting—to impress you and then it’s off to the next room. No dawdling, no matter how they tempt you!” she giggled. “This part of the show is all about first impressions. Like speeddating on steroids. Your job is just to live in the moment and enjoy yourself. And remember not to look at or refer to the cameras, okay? We’re going to be as unobtrusive as possible, with only one camera following you and a three-man set-up in the rooms with the girls. And don’t you worry, they’ll give you plenty of space.”

Jack managed not to openly scoff at that. As if five feet of clearance was going to give him the opportunity for an
intimate
first meet.

“I know it seems impossible now, but by next week you won’t even notice us.” She bounced in her heels—definitely high on something, or maybe it was just the thrill of the show. Miranda did love her job. “After the First Meets, we’ll collect all the girls together for the first challenge. They’ll think they have to write you a little time-capsule note that you will open together on the last date, if they make it that far, but really there won’t be enough capsules for everyone and it’s a chance to see how they handle that. And how they interact with one another since that will also be the first time the girls will be seeing one another. You should be able to observe a lot from the spy room we’ve set up for you.”

Jack’s stomach turned a little at the idea of spying on his possible future wife, but he reminded himself that on this show nothing was ever private.

“After that there will be a brief cocktail party, when all the girls get a chance to vie for your attention and then it’s on to the Elimination Ceremony. You’ll cut eight tonight. Don’t worry about names, we’ll help you if you forget. Just let yourself be in the moment. We’ve gathered thirty of the most extraordinary women in America for you, you lucky bastard.”

Jack forced a smile, but he didn’t feel lucky. He felt trapped. He reached into his pocket and ran his thumb over the charm bracelet. Lou’s face rose in his mind, along with Emma’s, TJ’s and visions of home. What was he doing here?

Before he could wave the white flag and call it all off, Miranda was striding away, off to conquer Rome and someone he couldn’t see was yelling, “Cue Josh!”

The former game-show-host Josh Pendleton stepped out of the Suitorette mansion with his overly suave smile firmly in place.

“Welcome to a new season of
Marrying Mister Perfect
!” he exclaimed, and Jack wasn’t sure whether the host was talking to him or the home audience. Pendleton launched into his spiel, strolling across the courtyard with a measured gait so he reached Jack’s side at the right moment in his speech. He ran through the agenda for the night for the cameras and Jack tried to remember to beam and look like Mr. Perfect rather than a deer in headlights.

Everything seemed to be moving at light speed. Before he knew it he was being guided along a garden path along to the pool where the first Suitorette waited for him. Pendleton dropped back, waving him ahead, and Jack stepped through an archway and onto the tiki-torch lit pool deck.

And standing in the middle of the flickering light, a golden vision posed with a sultry smile in place on her lush lips.

Hello, Marilyn
. Jack’s higher brain functions melted.

Playmate curves were barely contained by the short, shimmery, spandex-tight dress. Suddenly Jack felt nervous for a whole new reason and his feet stalled. She didn’t seem to mind. She strolled toward him, full mouth open slightly, her heavily-shadowed eyes never leaving his as her platinum blonde hair swished around her hips. The smoky intensity of her gaze had him shifting nervously in his excruciating shoes. This woman was too gorgeous. Movie-star hot and focused like a laser beam on him. He felt like he’d been bodyslammed by her sheer sex appeal. What had he signed himself up for?

She paused in front of him, licked her lips and smiled a slow, sensuous invitation of a smile. “Hello, Mister Perfect. I’m Katya.”

Lou was not waiting by the phone. She
wasn’t
. Just because it was Friday morning. The morning after Jack’s first meeting with his dream women. Just because she was desperately hoping he would call her and tell her they were all awful and he was coming home…

She most certainly was not waiting by the phone.

The kids were at school and Lou lingered in the kitchen—because she was washing the sticky oatmeal bowls from breakfast, of course. It had nothing to do with a need to remain within lunging distance of the landline. The cell phone was tucked into the back pocket of her jeans.

She plunged her hands into the water, swirling the sponge around inside an already spotless bowl.

It was that damn kiss. Their accidental goodbye kiss haunted her.

Had she squandered an opportunity there? Should she have taken the chance to kiss him properly? Sure, Jack had never thought of her
that way
, but that didn’t necessarily mean he never would. Didn’t the best relationships grow out of friendships? People were always saying that. There had to be some truth in it.

If she could just get him to stop thinking of her as Lou the buddy, Lou the friend, maybe she still had a chance.

Provided he hadn’t already fallen head over heels at first sight with a supermodel he first laid eyes on last night. For all Lou knew he was in Vegas with Miss Perfect right this instant, getting married by Elvis in front of a row of cameras and a dozen giddy television executives. If only he would
call
…

The house phone rang. Lou dove for it, splashing soapy water all over herself. “Jack?” she gasped breathlessly into the receiver.

“He still hasn’t called?” The sound of Kelly’s voice sent Lou’s spirits plummeting. “Drat. I wanted all the gossip. He met them last night, didn’t he?”

“That was the plan.”

“You sound awful. Don’t worry. He’ll be great. He was born to be Mr. Perfect.”

“I know.” Which did nothing to raise Lou’s spirits. There was nothing like being reminded the man was completely out of her league.

“You wanna come over? I’m making double fudge brownies. Chocolate therapy.”

Lou didn’t want to go anywhere until Jack called, but admitting that to Kelly wasn’t high on her wish list.

Though Kelly was the expert on
Marrying Mr. Perfect
. Maybe she could help Lou figure out how to sabotage the show so Jack would have to come home and fall in love with her instead.

Yeah. Like that was ever going to happen.

“I don’t know, Kel—” The phone beeped against her ear. “Oh God, Kelly, that’s the call waiting! I’ve gotta go.”

“Call me ba—”

Lou hit the button to connect the new call, cutting Kelly off mid-word. “Hello?”

“Lou.”

Her knees turned to jelly and she sank down onto the nearest chair, melting into a puddle of relief. “Jack. How are you? You just missed the kids. They’ve already left for school.”

After a slight hesitation, he said, “Yeah, I’m still getting used to the time zones.”

He sounded wrecked. She glanced at the clock, quickly doing the math. “It’s gotta be seven fifteen in the morning there. Don’t tell me you haven’t been to sleep yet?”

He groaned an affirmative. “Miranda wasn’t kidding when she said the hours were insane.”

“You should get some sleep. I’m sorry you missed the kids, but I’ll tell them you called.”

“No.” He grunted groggily. “I mean, yes, tell them I called, but I was hoping we could talk for a sec. Just you and me?”

Her relief that he’d called morphed into something stronger, a pleasure that hummed through her heart. “Absolutely. Whatever you want.” Especially if he what he wanted was her. “How did it go last night?”

Please let him say it was awful. Please, please, please.

“It was… overwhelming. Definitely more of an assault to the senses than I was expecting.”

Lou held her breath. What exactly did
assault to the senses
mean? Was that a good thing? A bad thing? “Oh?”

“It’s insane. Thirty drop-dead gorgeous women vying for my attention, crawling all over one another and clearly willing to scratch one another’s eyes out for a chance to sit down next to me for five minutes.”

Lou tried to read his voice without success. Was that exasperation or was he flattered by the attention? He just sounded exhausted.

“I think there was a PA whose entire job was to make sure everyone had a fresh cocktail all night long and it went on for hours. We started at dusk and didn’t wrap photography until the sun was coming up.”