have a right to know what?” one of the bodyguards says skeptically. “Whether she puts salt or ketchup on her grits?”
Tyrell looks appalled. “She puts ketchup on her grits?” He pulls out his notepad and starts scribbling. Harper, in the meantime, is frantically taking notes and consulting her iPad. I hope to God there’s not really a Penny Amelia Johannsen, because if there is, she’s going to have an army of reporters on her doorstep.
“No comment!” Sebastian calls out. “Except that Bitter Bites is the best diner in town!” Also the only diner in town—my family’s hotel restaurant is more high-end “farm to table” fare.
Tyrell finds a chair and goes to sit down next to Harper. As Sebastian and I quickly finish our sandwiches, the two of them compare notes.
When we’re done, we hurry back to the hotel, followed by a crowd of Bitter End residents, Heat Lightning fans, and tourists who just want to see what the fuss is all about. Magnus, Parker and Monica go to their rooms, and Sebastian, the bodyguards and I go through the hotel lobby, down a hall, out the back door, and across the property until we get to the fencing surrounding the barn.
There, Sebastian calls, “Sorry, everybody!” and does a melodramatic bow from the waist before we walk through the gate.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Callie
“This is your one chance to cheat on me,” I inform him. “You may do anything you want with Penny Amelia Johannsen.”
“Wow. Penny Amelia Johannsen is pretty hot. I may have to take you up on that.”
“First, PAJ, which I am going to call her for short, needs to take off her heels because they’re freaking killing her.” I limp-walk over to the makeup table, sit down, and kick my shoes off. My feet sing with gratitude. Whoever invented high heels needs to be sentenced to a month of walking in them, every waking moment, which is the worst torture I can think of. I’d throw in a mandatory corset for good measure.
I stand up and turn around to find Sebastian right behind me.
“Eep! Couldn’t wait, could you?”
“For Penny?” He grins fiercely. “Hell no.”
He pulls me to him, and I fall against him, loving the warm, solid feel of him. One arm circles around my waist as he bends down to kiss me. His fingers tangle in my wig—and it comes off in his hand.
“Ahhh!” I shriek. We fall apart, laughing. The wig dangles from his fingers. “Nooo! You scalped Penny!”
“Damn. I guess I don’t know my own strength.” He tosses the wig onto the makeup table. “This must be the kind of thing that happens when the Hulk has sex.”
“Oh my God.” I’m howling. Tears of laughter dribble down my cheeks. My ribs seriously hurt. “Why would you put that image in my head?” But then his lips descend and claim mine in a heated kiss, and my belly-laughs fade into a low, deep moan of pleasure.
I feel his fingers in my hair, teasing out the pins that held it in place beneath the wig, letting my curls tumble into their usual riotous non-style.
He leans back and examines me. “That’s better,” he says. “Now I feel like I can see you underneath all that makeup.”
For just a moment I feel an odd pang of jealousy, as though Penny—my alter-ego with the tan skin and amber contacts and the painted-on illusion of sculpted cheekbones—really is another woman. But then Sebastian’s lips are against mine and his hands are on my body, and it’s me and it’s him—it’s so familiar, and so right, that it couldn’t be anyone else. We’re back underneath the bleachers all those years ago, and we’re here and now and together, touching and tasting and letting the lost years go.
This time we almost make it to the couch. We end up sprawled on the area rug in front of it, a tangle of limbs, our eager hands all over each other. Sebastian tries to yank off his shirt one-handed (the other is busy somewhere delicious), and we run through a brief, kind of hot slapstick routine as I help him get untangled. I’ve never had sex before that was so much fun. So joyous.
We’re smiling and panting as we come together again, pressing our mouths together, fingers stroking and exploring. When Sebastian rolls over to grab a condom, I take the packet from his fingers and carefully tear open the foil. He moans as I wrap my fingers around his rigid length, then hisses as I roll the