so hard and long she couldn’t think.
He couldn’t do anything like that, of course, but he wanted to.
Finally, she glanced to the side again. “You really aren’t going to tell me anything, are you?”
“No.” He stepped closer, taking a slight chance, letting the tips of his fingers touch hers. “I would if I could. But I have a contract that says I’m not permitted to discuss the show with anyone, and more importantly, there’s a lot of money at stake.”
She nodded slowly.
“That may sound shallow to you, but I need that money.”
“What for?” This time her brow furrowed in concerned curiosity.
He pursed his lips and inhaled slowly. “I’d rather not talk about it if you don’t mind.”
She flinched slightly, pressing the tips of her fingers against his as if she were unaware of their contact. “Because of the contract?”
“Because it’s personal. The producers don’t own every piece of me. I maintained a small shred of privacy.” Barely. He had gone around and around with them over this issue when they’d offered him the extra three months. Eventually, he’d won. Thank God. No way did he want cameras delving into the one sacred part of his life he wasn’t willing to share.
She leaned back.
“It’s not illegal, Jodi. It’s just personal.”
She nodded again. “Okay,” she said softly. “Is that where you went Tuesday and Thursday morning before you came here?”
He gave her a gentle smile. She must watch him every waking moment. “Yes.”
“I see.” She stood up taller. “Will you tell me one thing, please?”
“Depends…” He wished he could tell her all the things.
“Do you have sex with her when you close that bedroom door?”
His heart pounded. Jodi cared. She cared a lot. He’d known her one week, and she was just as into him as he was her. He was strapped, however. He tried to think of the best way to answer her that wouldn’t break his contract but would give her hope. “What would you like my answer to be, Jodi?”
She stared at him, her face a new one she hadn’t shared before. One filled with uncertainty and vulnerability. “I shouldn’t have asked. It was dumb.” She shifted her gaze back at the towel and the spot where their fingertips touched.
“Jodi.”
She hesitated and then lifted her face again. She looked kind of sad.
“I’d give anything to be able to answer your questions. All of them. And I will, in twenty days. Every single one. Okay?” That was more than he should have said. All he could do was pray she would keep their interactions to herself.
The corners of her mouth lifted briefly as she blew out a breath. “Twenty days is a long time to watch you playing house with a blond model who rarely wears any clothes and flings herself at you every time you come through the door.”
“I know.” He was asking a lot. He wasn’t even asking anything at all. There were no question marks at the end of his phrases. Everything between them was unspoken.
Jodi inched slightly closer, her fingers threading between his, increasing the contact. “I should stop watching.”
“You should.”
“I won’t though.”
“I know.”
“Twenty days?”
“Yep.” Not one single moment longer.
“Isn’t there a season finale that day?”
“Yes.” It ought to be a doozy too.
She held his gaze, licking her lips as she did so. “We should unlock the front door.”
He nodded. “Will you put on more clothes and stop trying to play detective?” he teased, knowing his daily request would go unheeded, and she would switch back to one of her fake frustrated moods, breaking the intensity of their interaction.
“Nope.”
“Figured.”
As she slid her hand away and then headed toward the door, he watched her. He loved the way she moved, so comfortable in her skin, so casually. Nothing about her was fake or pretentious. She was just Jodi. The smart, sexy, funny woman he was falling for more every day. A woman who was forced to spend her mornings watching him play house with a fake wife who made his skin crawl more with each passing hour.
Twenty days was a damn long time. It seemed like a lifetime. Why the hell did he have to meet a woman who made him want to be a better man while he was in the middle of the weirdest three months of his life?
Jodi brought light to his otherwise dim world. He’d been dragging his ass ever since leaving the SEALs. At least Cold Feet had forced him to stop moping. But now he’d gone from worrying all the time