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“Yep, found exactly what I was looking for,” I told her, wishing I didn’t have to pretend for the rest of the day, that I could just fast forward to the future, to everything I’d dreamed of when I’d walked through the little waterfront cottage with the sweeping back deck nestled beneath two-hundred year old oaks on the edge of the Patuxent River.
I wanted to find Tess and tell her that as soon as I’d seen the place, I’d seen us in it, seen us standing in front of that railing looking out at the water, seen us laughing in the expansive kitchen with toddlers running at our feet, seen us nestled in bed in the grand master bedroom, which also faced the water. I’d seen the future I wanted; now I just needed to show it to Tess. And make her believe in it.
I knew it was crazy. I knew it was all too fast.
But I didn’t care. Because I knew Tess was the only woman for me, and I just had to prove it to her.
As soon as I was done pretending to be in love with her sister.
“Hello, Ryan.” Alison Sands greeted me, and I took a deep breath, telling myself this was the end of the pretense. That soon, I’d be able to be exactly who I really was. That soon, I could tell Tess I was staying—or at least making a second home here; ask her to give me a chance.
“We’ll just do some more casual shots now that we’ve got the afternoon sun,” Alison said, waving a hand at the golden light draping the back lawn. “And then you lovebirds can go change for the party.”
“Perfect,” I said, wrapping my arm around Juliet’s waist and pulling her near. “That sounds perfect.”
This was going to be the hardest role I’d ever played.
Chapter Eighteen
Tess
Iwatched from the top of the stairs as Ryan wrapped his arm around my sister’s waist, looking like the happiest guy in the whole world. He’d been gone the entire day, so there’d been no opportunity to talk about what had happened between us, to get myself straight. Clearly, he wasn’t worrying about it or obsessing over what could or couldn’t be between us.
Of course he wasn’t. He was a movie star—a spectacularly handsome Hollywood playboy, and a good actor. It was practically his job to make me feel like I was different, like I wasn’t just another girl on a long list of girls. And he was too good at his job. I had felt special. I had felt unique. But in the cool distant shadow of his absence, I found my rationality and logic. And there was no way Ryan McDonnell had an ounce of real interest in a water adventure instructor from the middle-of-nowhere, Maryland. It just didn’t make any sense.
I’d spent the day alternately overwhelmed by ridiculous anticipation of what might happen between us, buoyed by a ridiculous hope, and berating myself for being so easily infatuated, so easily convinced there was something there. I’d been the one to push him out of my bedroom, so it didn’t make much sense that my heart was still squeezing at the thought of him, pushing me to hope for impossible things. My mind was the rational voice, the one I needed to listen to. It had been only two days, after all. And he was a friggin’ movie star. I was Tess Manchester. This was clearly not my life.
Now, as I stood watching Ryan’s strong firm body pressed up against the side of my sister’s lean petite form, all my doubts crystallized and hardened into facts.
It had been fun. It was a fling. It didn’t matter what he said—weren’t actors known to be flighty and unreliable? Actually he was the only actor I knew besides Juliet, so I really had no solid evidence, but it was easier to trust my own assumptions than to put any faith in something as impossible as Ryan McDonnell being interested in me.
I continued down the stairs and slipped through the hall to where Gran sat on the back porch, reading on her ereader.
“Hey there,” I said.
“Manhattan?” Gran lifted a silver shaker my way and nodded her head toward her own half-full glass.
“It’s a little early,” I said. “Gran, you need to be somewhat sober tonight. All these people are coming to see you.”
“Is that a yes?” She picked up a second glass and poured, handing me the brownish liquid with a smile that would have looked right on the face of a seven-year old sneaking candy. Gran’s spirit helped bring my mood up—it always had. Life wasn’t perfect for her, but she never failed to find the things in it that she could laugh about. I needed to practice that.
“Those magazine folks here to capture more of your sister’s silliness on film?”
I sipped the drink and pressed my lips together instead of spluttering. “Strong,” I managed, once I’d swallowed what felt like fire down my throat.
Gran sighed and put her ereader down. “Tess, I want you to be happy, you know that, right?”
I wasn’t sure where this was coming from. “Thanks, Gran. I want me to be happy too. And I am, mostly.”
“Mostly.” She cackled, her eyes clouding as she gazed out at the rolling lawn. “Hoping your life is mostly happy. There’s a greeting card sentiment for you.”
Just then Jack and Chessy strolled by, Chessy trotting contentedly at Jack’s side. They seemed to have come to some kind of understanding. I thought maybe Chessy was actually happier than I was at this point.
“I hope he’s not thinking of taking my attack chicken when he goes back to LA,” Gran said.
I was about to respond when a familiar—if not altogether welcome—voice came around the side of the back porch. “Hey, Tess, hey Gran.”
“Tony,” Gran said, her lack of enthusiasm for Tony Myers made more evident by the amount of rye she’d already had today.
