Charming Like Us - Krista Ritchie Page 0,102

much rather not ruin the moment. Sex on the floor in front of a fire in Greenland.

With Oscar Oliveira.

I couldn’t have written the script any better.

Before we sleep, Oscar tells me, “Set your alarm for 5 a.m.; we’re getting our asses up early.”

“What for?”

“You’ll see.”

I almost mention that Charlie is rubbing off on him with the lack of details, but exhaustion takes hold, and I fall asleep.

26

OSCAR OLIVEIRA

“Best idea you’ve ever had,” Jack says in an aching sigh of relief.

He lowers across from me into the steaming cedar hot tub. We’re out on the side-deck. Privacy walls and an overhead trellis block any potential onlookers, but we still have the same views of the iceberg-dotted sea out front.

I skim his bruises and welts from afar.

Ugh, that’s hurting my heart. I’m used to seeing men beat to hell after fights in a ring. And I might be too scarily desensitized to that, but when it comes to Jack, I’m not unfeeling.

I flinched the first time I saw the welt on his thigh.

I cringed at the one on his jaw like someone took a right-hook to my face.

And I wished I brought lotion to Greenland for him. Looks like I’m gonna have to start packing extra crap for Highland. He can’t remember to bring anything he really needs—besides his camera equipment.

I think he’d leave a tooth behind before his ultra-wide lens.

“That’s what they call me,” I banter. “The idea machine.”

Jack flashes a smile as he leans back, arms spreading over the circular wood edge. Biceps sculpted and on display. “Yeah? They call me something too.”

I give him a look. “Don’t say it.”

“Homewrecker—”

I dash over to Jack in the water, cupping a hand across his mouth. “Love nicknames for you. Hate that one.”

His smile softens against my palm. Cold nips my skin as I stand over him, submerged only waist-down, and his honey-brown eyes roam over my hard, bare chest. And lower.

We’re naked, and I’m two seconds from reaching into the water and gripping him.

A noise swerves my head.

My phone buzzes on a high-table, one that I pushed against the hot tub. Just in case Charlie wakes up and calls.

Fuck.

I drift away from him.

“Charlie is already awake?” Jack asks, and I hear his faint sound of disappointment.

Damn, I feel cheated from the moment I created. “I thought he wouldn’t get up before 7.”

He glances at the sky. “The sun is up. That could’ve changed his mind.”

Reaching out, I seize my phone. And the verdict is…

“Not Charlie,” I tell him. “Akara texted a date and time for Omega’s next security meeting.” I read more. “It’s prep for the huge charity golf tournament that all the families are attending.”

Jack nods. “Yeah, I got the WAC production schedule for that event. I’m supposed to be shooting Moffy and Jane more than anyone. Which is an issue since Moffy’s not around Charlie that much, and I was hoping to get some footage for Born into Fame.”

I take a seat across from him again. “Why can’t you just go follow Charlie and say it’s for We Are Calloway but use it for the side project?”

“Because the other execs will know that’s what I’m doing. Moffy and Jane’s life largely makes air, so it’s worth the time and money to follow them. Charlie’s one-word responses and non-answers aren’t, and he’s been opening up more but there’s still content I can’t even use.”

Like the theatre, I realize.

Where Charlie knocked a bastard off a ladder.

I slouch to dunk my shoulders in the warm water. “He might not even go to the charity golf thing.”

“He went to the Fun Run,” Jack says, “and several other H.M.C. Philanthropies events. He said it’s an obligation.”

“He’s been known to skip that obligation a lot.”

Jack sighs. “I hope he goes. It’d be good footage.” He stares off in producer La La Land, then shakes his head. “Anyway…” His eyes glitter on me. “I have a question about you.”

And I definitely want to hear this. “Shoot.”

“How’d the giant age-gap happen between you and your other siblings? Did your parents plan you?”

“Oh yeah,” I nod. “I was the firstborn love of their lives.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” I grin. “They had me a few years after their marriage, during the height of my dad’s boxing career. He learned to box from a family friend, since my uncles are more trained in jiu-jitsu. But because my parents traveled a lot for fights, they just had me.” I explain that my mom’s a personal trainer, but not in boxing. More cardio and weights. And

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