The Redhead Series by Alice Clayton

Author:Alice Clayton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Star

“Hey, sweet girl. Wake up.”

I sighed into my pillow, my dream of Jack spilling over as I swear I heard his voice right next to me. I waited for horns honking and the hustle and bustle of the city to remind me where I was.

Instead, I heard birds and wind chimes. I smelled—wait, s’mores? I cautiously opened one eye, not able to believe I was really home. My eye took in a beautiful sight: Jack perched next to me on the bed. White waffle-weave long-sleeve T-shirt, shredded black jeans. He looked exhausted but happy as he leaned down to kiss my forehead.

“Hey, yourself,” I mumbled, opening both eyes and stretching my arms over my head. I’d slept hard and fast, and I was sure there were pillow wrinkles on my face.

“You have pillow wrinkles on your face,” he said, his fingers tracing along my cheek.

“Can’t you let one slip by? We’re not all one of People’s Most Beautiful,” I teased, rolling over on my back and curling my legs beneath me.

“What are you prattling on about? I’m not on that list.” He frowned, swinging his own legs up onto the bed after kicking off his shoes. He lay next to me on top of the covers, leaning his head on his elbow.

“Not yet, maybe, but you will be. Mark my words, people will be lining up to market the pretty. Make sure no one steals my Hamilton Brand, though. That’s mine alone.” I laughed, and he looked confused.

“What the hell is a Hamilton Brand? Holly was talking about branding the other day in a meeting with a PR rep. Why the hell do I need a brand?”

“Actually, I was thinking of a brand of a different kind, and I’ll tell you about it at just the right time.” I scooted closer and snuggled into his warm body. I could tell he hadn’t been eating well on the road; he’d been losing weight steadily since I left him in September. I’d have to start cooking for him again, once my show and his film schedule settled down.

I looked up at him, and he smiled at me. “Lips, please,” he said.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Lips, please. You haven’t properly kissed your man yet,” he said, and I leaned in to comply. I kissed him softly and sighed as I felt his warm mouth. I kissed him again more firmly, and then snuggled into the Hamilton Nook.

We lay in silence for a few minutes, and he stroked my hair and shoulders. It was so comfortable and peaceful; I was reluctant to ever get up. But my tummy decided for us, and when it began to rumble so loud it was impossible to ignore, I giggled.

“Well, I guess we should decide what we’re doing for dinner,” I said, sitting up and stretching.

“What are you hungry for, love?”

“I’ve been craving Gladstones since I passed so close to it today on my way home from the airport. Too public?” I asked, wondering about the brilliance of eating somewhere so touristy the night before his premiere.

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