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Hollywood Love: Book 4: A sexy celebrity romance (Hollywood Billionaires) Page 2
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I swat him on the shoulder as we pull into the Captive Films lot to pick up Dawson.
“I bet you can’t wait to see the girls,” I say to Dawson when he joins us. “How was your day?”
“It was good. I made a lot of calls, caught up with people who think I fell off the face of the earth. They’re all interested in this project, so I asked the marketing team to pull together a few vendor-specific presentations.”
“That’s great. Everything else going well?” I want to ask about Vanessa, but I don’t.
“Yep. How about you two? Good day on set?”
“I humped Keatyn all day and made her orgasm,” Knox says.
“Knox!”
“I’m just joking,” he says, giving me an evil grin.
“Better not say something like that in front of Aiden,” Dawson warns.
“I might. Just to get him going.”
“Please don’t. My grandparents are in town. They fast forward our sex scenes.”
“They do?”
“Yes! Thank God!”
Dawson and Knox both start laughing. And they tease me the whole way there.
Regional Airport - Sonoma
DAWSON
My girls barrel down the steps and into my arms, crushing me with their hugs.
“Daddy! Daddy!” they say and start talking at once.
“We had popcorn and soda on the plane, and we got to watch two whole movies!”
“And Grandma didn’t make us go to school today. We made pancakes and took Mango for a walk. And I got an A on my spelling test this week!”
“That’s amazing. Let’s get your bags and then we’ll—”
“Keatyn!” the girls scream as soon as they see her. My youngest, Harlow, is seven and obsessed with the princess movie that Keatyn did the voice for. “We watched The Princess on the way here! I told the lady on the plane that we knew you! A real life princess!”
“And everyone at school,” my oldest, Ava, says, rolling her eyes. At ten, she’s at the age where everything her little sister says and does is uncool.
“I’m not really a princess,” Keatyn says, giving them both hugs. “I just got to be her voice.”
“Same thing!” Harlow says.
“I’m a movie star too,” Knox tells them. “Knox Daniels.”
Harlow looks up at him. “I’ve never heard of you.”
“Pint sized critic. I’m crushed,” Knox says, holding his heart.
“I’ve seen you on magazines at my friend’s house,” Ava says, knowingly. “Her mom says you’re on her list.”
“What list is that?” I ask.
“Her freebie list,” she says. Keatyn glances at me with wide eyes. “You know, like she would go see all his movies even if they were free.”
We both sigh with relief, but Knox grins. “We should take a picture so you can show your friend’s mommy.”
“Really!?” She quickly pulls out her phone and holds it up. Knox gives her his best grin, the one that shows off his dimples. “If my daddy would let me watch your movies, you’d be on my freebie list too,” she says, causing me to cringe.
Keatyn covers her face to hide her laughter, while Ava posts the photo. Then she looks up at Keatyn with her puppy dog eyes.
“Do you want to take one with me too?” Keatyn asks her.
She nods happily then holds up her camera and takes a picture. She snaps it and then studies it. “My hair was blowing in my eyes. Can we try another?”
“Sure.”
They pose again. Snap.
“Now, I just look stupid,” she huffs.
Snap.
“What do you think?”
Keatyn says, “Hmmm, let’s change the coloring a little, like this. What do you think?”
“You look beautiful,” she says.
“No, you look beautiful. Look how green your eyes are.”
“Alright,” I say. “Let’s get going!”
Keatyn picks up Harlow and puts her on her hip. “My grandma and grandpa are at the farm and Grandpa wants you to go horseback riding with him tomorrow!”
“Yay!!” Harlow screams.
Keatyn & Aiden’s home - Asher Vineyards
KEATYN
The driver winds up the long road leading to our home. The second I’m on our land, I completely relax. There’s something so comforting about the rows of grapes, the rolling hills, and the big stone house.
I give Dawson and the girls a quick tour then send them and Knox down the hill to find Dallas and his kids.
I find Aiden in our party barn. The sleeves of his plaid flannel shirt are rolled up, showing off muscular forearms. His ass is highlighted by a pair of Wranglers. His dark blonde hair is windblown and his cowboy boots are dusty.
“There’s my gorgeous girl,” he says, jumping off a ladder and swinging me into his arms, kissing me. “I have something to show you. Close your eyes and don’t peek.”
I do as he asks. I can hear him closing the barn door then he comes up from behind me, kisses my neck, and whispers, “Open.”
“Oh, Aiden! It’s beautiful,” I say, my smile probably beaming as bright as the strands of lights he’s strung across the barn’s ceiling joists. “It will be perfect for our reception!” I stare up at the lights for a few moments and am overcome with emotion. I turn around to face him. “You’ve always made my life more beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I missed you.” I notice dirt on his face and try to wipe it off. “You’re all dirty.”
“You like it when I’m dirty,” he replies, his voice deep and sexy.
“Maybe I should help you get cleaned up for dinner.”
He kisses my neck again. “Where is everyone?”
“I sent them to find Dallas and the kids. Where are they?”
“Helping your grandpa feed the horses. That means we have just enough time.”
“Just enough time for what?”
“This!” he says, sweeping me off my feet, carrying me in the house, and tossing me on our bed.
He unbuttons his shirt, his green eyes holding mine, then strips off his boots and jeans. When he’s naked, he strips off my clothes. Sometimes, he likes to slowly undress me and kiss every part. This is not one of those times.
He stays standing and pulls me down to the end of the bed. I wrap my legs around him as he pushes inside of me.
“Oh, Boots, I think you missed me.”
“Oh, god. Yes, I did,” I say raggedly, pleasure rushing through me. “Do it harder, but don’t come yet.”
“That’s easier said than done, Boots. It’s been three days, and you keep grabbing my ass.”
I immediately put my hands up in the air.
He pins them down above my head and pumps harder.
“Oh, that’s it. That’s oh. Oh . . .” I moan, my insides contracting and pulsing.
He slows down and leans in to kiss me.
“You’re not done? Are you?”
He chuckles against my lips. “Just taking a little break.”
He slowly pulls out of me, then slowly glides back in.
“You’re so freaking hard.”
I push my arms up, because I want—no, I need—him to go faster, but he holds firm, still toying with me.
Finally, he has me exactly where he wants me, begging.
“Aiden, please.”
He slams into me, lifting my body up off the bed with every thrust, faster and faster, until I’m wrapped in the throes of ecstasy and he’s collapsed on top of me.
He kisses my nose. “I missed you too, in case you couldn’t tell.”
I give him another kiss. “We should probably go check on our guests.”
“I suppose you’re right, although I bet they could fend for themselves.”
Aiden pops in the shower and I get in with him.
He starts soaping up my body.
“Can I have a rain check on that?” I ask. “I’ve got to get some food. I’m starting to feel sick.”
I quickly dry off, put my clothes back on, and run into the kitchen and grab an apple off the counter. Then I run back to the bathroom because I have to pee.
When I wipe, it’s pink.
“Ohmigawd! Aiden! I’m bleeding!” I say, instantly panicked.
He jumps out of the shower and I show him the toilet paper.
“Aiden, did we do it too hard? Am I having a miscarriage? What are we going to do?”
He stands naked, dripping in front of me. “Is that it?”
“Is what it?”
“Like, that’s barely pink. It doesn’t really look like blood.”
I stay sitting on the toilet and start crying.
Aiden bends down next to me. “Baby, it’s okay. Whatever happens is okay. We talked about that, right?”
I shake my head. “No, I lied. It’s not okay!”
“Keatyn, you need to calm down. Why don’t you wipe again and see if it’s gotten better or worse. I read that a miscarriage is like getting your period. There’s a lot of cramping and blood. Are you cramping?”
“Maybe! I don’t know!”
He grabs my chin. “Look at me. Do you have cramps?”
I take a deep breath. “No.”
“Wipe, please.”
“I’m scared to.”
He hands me a wad of toilet paper. I close my eyes and wipe.
“I can’t look.”
“It’s not pink, baby. You’re not bleeding.”
I open my eyes, not believing him and expecting to see a river of blood. But the paper is white.
I cover my eyes with my hands.
Aiden wraps a towel around his waist, types in his phone, and then he reads from it.
“It says that spotting after sex is normal during your first trimester. It says that your cervix—that’s what the baby comes out of, right?—is sensitive. It says up to thirty percent of women have some bleeding in early pregnancy and half of them don’t have miscarriages.”
“So, if I’m in the thirty percent, my odds are fifty-fifty?”
“I don’t think that would really qualify as bleeding. It’s going to be fine, I promise.”
I stand up, zip my pants, and flush.
“Aiden?”
“What, baby?” he says, sliding his hand across my face.
“It just got real.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was excited to be pregnant, but other than some vague flu-like symptoms and the ability to smell a cheeseburger from two miles away, it didn’t feel real. It does now, and I realize just how much I want to have our baby.”
“And you will, don’t worry. Speaking of that, we need to start thinking up names. I actually have an idea.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I think we should name the baby Monroe.”
Tears fill my eyes again.
“My fake last name? If it weren’t for me almost being kidnapped by the stalker, I never would have went to boarding school.”
“Or met me.”
“I’m glad I met you. And I don’t know if I ever told you this, but my mom chose that name because it was my great grandma’s maiden name.”
“That makes it even better,” he says. “Monroe Arrington. What do you think?”
“It would work for a boy or a girl.” I kiss him. “I love it, Aiden. It’s perfect.”
It’s late and I’m sitting on the back porch drinking lemonade with Grandma, Grandpa, and Aiden. Knox is helping Dawson and Dallas put the kids to bed with a crazy bedtime story. Logan and Maggie left, since they have a busy day at the winery tomorrow.
“So, Hotshot,” Grandpa says to me. “We have some news. Me and Ma are homeless.”
“What?”
“We sold the ranch, dear,” Grandma clarifies.
“Better than, We bought the farm,” Grandpa says, slapping his leg with laughter.
“Grandpa, don't joke about dying. I hate that. And why did you sell the ranch? You love it there.”
“I’ve decided, after careful consideration,” he leans over and whispers to me, “and after Ma hit me over the head with a frying pan and knocked some sense into me—”
“Don't listen to him,” Grandma interjects.
“—that it was time. We've been spending a lot time in California, between the board meetings at Captive and coming here. We decided to put it up for sale and see what happened. We got a good offer, fast. We weren’t really expecting it to sell so quickly. When we go back home, we have to pack up forty years worth of crap.”
“I’ve already gone through the house and downsized it,” Grandma says, rolling her eyes.
“She got rid of everything that wasn't nailed down. I'm lucky she kept my chair and my bed.”
“And you,” Grandma says with a laugh. “Anyway, we kept what was important, and we’re going to buy some new things for our new house.”
“Where are you moving to?” I ask, shocked by all of this. I just can’t picture Grandpa in a condo somewhere.
Aiden squeezes my hand. “We have plenty of land here for them to build a house on, and they can stay in the guest house until it's done.”
Tears flood my eyes. I couldn’t be happier with the thought of my grandparents being around every day to see my baby grow up.
“Really?”
“She's crying, Ma,” Grandpa says. “Better not draw up the house plans yet.”
I get up and hug my grandma. “I’m crying because it makes me so incredibly happy.” I give Grandpa a hug next. “You and Aiden have already been talking about this, haven't you?”
“I needed to talk to him man-to-man,” Grandpa says seriously. “But, yes, we’ve picked out a spot. I just didn’t want to put the cart before the horse.”
“He's going to help Logan manage the vineyard,” Aiden tells me.
“That's great news.” I still can’t believe it.
“And it'll keep him outta my hair,” Grandma teases.
“Don't worry, were gonna put her to work doing something. Woman's gotta earn her keep,” Grandpa teases her back.
“Maggie asked if I would consider working a few days a week in the store. I’d need to learn more about wine but I'm thinking that might be fun. Getting out there and talking to people. Although, Aiden says he'd rather I make him ribs and bake pies.”
Aiden rubs his flat stomach. “Wouldn’t that be awesome?”
“So, I hear you're planning a quickie wedding,” Grandpa says, changing the subject as he takes another drink. “You knocked up?”
My heart stops beating. I can't lie to my grandpa, and Aiden's freaking grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“Wow,” Grandpa says. “It suddenly got so quiet you could hear a cricket fart.”
“I am,” I say.
“You’re what?” Grandpa asks.
“You're pregnant!?” Grandma yells out.
“Shhh! We don't want anyone to know. We haven't told anyone yet.”
“Jeez, I was just joking,” Grandpa admits. “Although, now I understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Why old Fox over there,” he says, pointing toward Aiden, “can't wipe the smile off his face. I was afraid he was going gay on us.”
“Grandpa!” I chastise. “People don't go gay—”
“I don't mean gay as in homosexual. Gay used to mean happy before all the rainbow equality stuff. He was a gay old lad, meant he was really chipper. Unusually happy. And, in my experience, a man who is too happy usually’s got something up his sleeve. You gotta watch out for gay—as in happy—people. And Aiden's been smiling so much, I half expected him to break out in song.”
“Well, now you know why I'm over the moon,” Aiden says, still grinning.
“And please don't tell anyone,” I add.
“Your mother is going to be happier than a tick on a fat dog.”
“Why haven't you told your family?” Grandma asks.
“I’m only about seven weeks, and Aiden's sister had an early miscarriag
e. We’re waiting until I’m twelve weeks and have had an ultrasound to tell everyone.”
“You won't be able to wait that long,” Grandma replies, shaking her head at me.
“Why not?”
“You’re skinny. You'll start showing soon.”
“No, I won’t! You don't start showing until you're, like, three months. And you don’t have to wear maternity clothes until five months.”
Grandma laughs. A loud, belly laugh. “You been reading those pregnancy books already?”
“Uh, maybe.”
“When I was pregnant with your daddy, I noticed my stomach at eight weeks. Couldn't button my skirt anymore.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, and based on how much you ate at dinner tonight, I reckon you'll be the same.”
“You have been eating a lot,” Aiden confirms.
“I can’t help it that I’m hungry all the time. And nauseous.”
“Morning sickness, dear?”
“A little. I haven't thrown up too many times though. Mostly, I just gag.”
“You need to eat a gingersnap every morning when you first wake up. Keep them by your bed. And if you can have a cup of lemon tea with it, all the better.”
“I’ve looked everywhere online for a cure for morning sickness. I haven't heard of that,” Aiden says.
“It’s something grandmothers just know,” Grandma says to Aiden, matter-of-factly. Then she turns to me. “I'll bake you a mess of gingersnaps tomorrow. And, you should probably cut out the alcohol.”
“I didn't put alcohol in her drink,” Aiden says quickly.
“So, that's why you were so gung-ho on making them.”
Dawson, Dallas, and Knox join us on the back porch.
“They're all out,” Dallas says.
“Fell asleep during my stirring rendition of The Three Little Pigs,” Knox adds, looking slightly offended.
“Fresh air makes little ones sleep,” Grandma states. “They've had a long day, not to mention, Dawson, yours had a three hour time change. Aiden, would you get the boys some lemonade?”
“No offense, Grandma,” Knox says, “But I had something a little stronger in mind.”
“Oh, it's something stronger. It’ll put you right to sleep too, young man.”
Grandpa stands and grabs Grandma’s hand. “Ma and I are gonna hit the hay. Let you youngins have some fun.”