She shrieks right next to my ear and I hiss a curse.
“Sorry.” She slaps her hands over my mouth. “You surprised me.”
“I was supposed to.” I slam the door and rub my ear. Holy shit. Girl’s got a screech like a pterodactyl on estrogen.
I get in the driver side and tear down the driveway. I nod to our security team, standing vigil and keeping the media back. Flashes go crazy as photographers desperately try to get our picture.
“Sunglasses. In the glove box.”
Sofie rifles through it and hands me them. “Sorry, Mr. Hollywood.”
I laugh. “You want me to crash?”
I glance at her and she shakes her head.
“Well then.”
She doesn’t say anything else as I turn onto the main road through Shelton Bay. A few cars mysteriously appear behind us, conveniently coming from the same direction as my house.
I feel my grin stretching across my face before Sofie notices anything.
“What?” she says, turning in the seat. “Oh, you’re fucking kiddin’ me.”
She practically growled that. She’s one angry Southern girl.
If I cared about the assholes in the cars behind us, I’d be telling them to run if they want to keep their balls. As it is, I don’t care, and I can think of a much better use for her anger.
“Conner. Why are you grinning?” She smacks my thigh. “Conner!”
I grab her hand and bring it to my lips. “Ready to fuck with the media, princess?”
At least he’s asking this time.
“I don’t know if I’m going to like this, but okay,” I reply, letting my hand fall to the seat still encased in his.
“You’ll love it.” He pulls into the parking lot of the store. “Hey, did I tell you we’re doing a concert on the beach on Saturday?”
“Uh. No.”
“Well, we are. You’re comin’ with Leila.”
“What if I’m busy?”
“You are busy, with my sister, watching Dirty B. Got it?”
“Why’d you bring it up now?” I ask, watching as he gets out of the truck and walks around to my side. I glance out of the back window quickly and see a horde of photographers climbing out of cars and media-stamped trucks. He opens my door.
“So you’d be more bothered about that than about this.” Conner reaches over me, unbuckles my belt, and spins me in the seat.
He stands with his back to me and pulls me forward by my feet. I squeal and wrap my arms around his neck at the same time his hands curl around my thighs and he hoists me onto his back.
“Conner. Don’t be dumb. Oh shit.”
He kicks the truck door shut with me on his back. He hoists me up and I grip his shirt, another high-pitched, panicked noise leaving my mouth. Oh hell. What is he playing at?
“Ready?”
He doesn’t give me a chance to answer as he runs toward the doors. I hook my ankles in front of him, fighting my laughter. Dammit, I don’t want him to know I’m amused as hell by this childish move.
“Put me down,” I demand when we get inside.
“Nope.” He stalks to the back of the store and tickles the inside of my thighs.
“Con—what—stop it!” I gasp and a laugh bursts from me. “Stop it!”
He laughs and stops in front of the aisle of diapers. “Which ones?”
“The . . . red ones . . .” I gasp, his fingers still tickling me. “Stop it now!”
He just laughs harder. “Size?” he manages.
“Four!” Oh my God.
I bury my face into his shoulder, my chest burning with shortness of breath because of my laughter. Conner jogs to the cashiers, doing nothing to help me contain my amusement.
He stops suddenly and grabs a pack of candy off the end of an aisle. He looks back and winks at me as I peek over his shoulder.
Goddammit, with the Burkes around, my daughter will be one spoiled kid.
Nina’s sitting behind the register and Conner drops the candy and diapers on the counter in front of her.
She smiles at me, falseness in every twitch of her bright pink lips. “I thought Conner didn’t know about your baby.”
“He didn’t when you asked.” I return the smile sweetly as Conner takes his card from the machine. “But thanks for selling us out. I look good on a magazine cover, don’t you think?”
“Sofie,” Conner warns. His stern tone is totally belied by restrained laughter.
“What? I’m just making conversation with Nina here.”
“Okay. We’re going.” He grabs the bag from the counter and whips us around.
I grip his shirt with renewed vigor, shock ricocheting through me. He runs out of the store and across the parking lot to the truck, dodging past and through all the cameras.
I can’t help every laugh that leaves me. Every chuckle, every giggle, every damn shriek of surprise, I love every second.
Conner digs in his pocket for the key fob and unlocks the truck. He opens the door and turns to back me in.
My butt hits the side of the seat. “Up!” I demand, reaching back.
He jumps and knocks my head on the top of the door.
“Ass!” I hiss, climbing back on the seat, rubbing the top of my head. And laughing. Still laughing.
Always laughing.
A low chuckle leaves him as he leans over me and throws the bag on the backseat. He stops in front of me, and his lips quirk to the side in boyish mischief.
He leans in and his lips are on mine, his fingers curled around the back of my neck, my hand flat against his cheek.
“I couldn’t help it,” he murmurs, pulling back.
He pushes my legs around and shuts the door.
Yeah, I get it. I get that, because damn, if he hadn’t kissed me, I was going to kiss him.
Laughing like that, being completely ridiculous together, just for a few minutes, was a hard-hitting reminder of us. Of how we used to be. All the time.
And the hardest hit of all was that beneath the lies and secrets and harsh words carelessly thrown, there’s still us there.
And in the blink of an eye, it’s not about the past anymore. It’s not that that’s holding us back.
It’s the now.
“They got that on camera, you realize?” I ask as he gets in next to me.
He merely shoots me a snarky smile. “You look good on the front page, remember?”
Once again, I slap his leg, and once again, he catches my hand and slides his fingers through mine.
I’m not going to argue the haircut. I need one, badly, but I’m sure as hell going to argue the nails. I don’t need a manicure or a pedicure.