Chapter 31

31

" Y ou're going to make me late," Tinsley admonishes, swatting at me as I lean over her back and pepper her neck with kisses.

"Don't care. You look so fucking hot right now."

She does. She's wearing panties that cut up and across her ass and nothing else. Her body is bent over the sink so she can be closer to the mirror, which means her ass is sticking out and her tits are poking forward. Plus, she's making this adorable squinty face as she applies her makeup.

This is my version of happiness right here. Tinsley Monroe in my bathroom, practically naked, and putting on her makeup because this is now her bathroom too. It's something I never thought I'd get but definitely fantasized about. Speaking of…

I grind into her backside, trying not to smile triumphantly as she gasps and then emits a tiny moan.

"No! No nookie for you. That's your punishment," she chastises as she waves a mascara wand over her lashes.

I chuckle, kissing up and down her spine. "You're cute when you try to punish me."

It's my fault she's running late. She was playing and writing music for the better part of the day, and the moment she set her guitar down, I had one thing on my mind and one thing only, and that was putting my mouth between her thighs. It didn't matter to me that she set it down because it was time to get ready for the gala.

"Is that your way of saying I shouldn't do it again?"

She bumps her ass into my dick, making me oomph with the way it hits as if to say you better do it again .

"For real, we have to leave in half an hour, and there is no way I'll be ready for the gala tonight by then."

"Fine. But I get to fuck you later in your pretty dress. I want to ruin all this gorgeous hair and makeup with my hands and lips."

"I'll let you. Now bugger off."

I kiss her spine one more time and leave the bathroom. Truth be told, if I don't move my ass, I'll be late too, though it doesn't take me all that long to get dressed. I put on my tux, run my fingers through my hair, and I'm done. I've already showered and shaved. Women don't have it nearly as easy, though ninety percent of the time we prefer them without makeup and in their pajamas. There's something about a woman who doesn't think we're looking and is comfortable being casual that is the most beautiful.

This last week has been exactly as we designed it. The media went batshit crazy over the post of us in the snow by the ducks. Fans are obsessing. The media is in a tailspin. And much to Tinsley's dismay, she's been tailed and followed everywhere she goes.

She hates it, and I hate it for her, and I hate it for us, but it's a necessary evil. At least for now.

Vander and Lenox are at a dead end in figuring out who the copycat is, as is the FBI. It feels like we're sitting and waiting for something to happen while doing our best not to think about it. The first letter was spooky but not all that threatening, but that second letter talked about her fear, and how they're done being patient, and nothing scares me more.

Does that mean he's always following her? Always watching? It's a chilling thought.

For the most part, we do what we can to remove it from our thoughts without being stupid. She has her security, and she goes nowhere without them. So until something else happens or another letter comes along, we watch and wait.

Thirty minutes later, Tinsley steps out of the bathroom in her ice-blue gown with her dark hair swept over one shoulder in long, thick curls. My jaw hits the floor. The way the dress hugs her every curve, slinks to just beneath her collarbone, and floats down her arms in long, sheer sleeves, only to have her turn around to reveal a completely bare back is the sexiest tease I've ever seen.

"Wow." My throat dries, and for a moment, I'm rendered speechless. "My fiancée is a goddess." I blink and then have to blink again. "Seriously I've never seen anything more beautiful than you are right now."

"You're not so bad yourself there, Dr. Fritz. I'm very proud to be on your arm tonight, helping to celebrate and raise money for your charity."

I cross the room and place a soft kiss on my spot on her shoulder. I don't want to muss up her hair or smear her red lipstick. Not yet at least. That'll come later.

"Exquisite." I look up into her eyes. "You have no idea how much I love that I get to touch you and be with you in public as my girl tonight."

I stand and hold out my elbow to her. Her hand loops through it, cradling itself against my inner arm, and I lead her outside to the waiting limo, keeping our heads down as we're bombarded with cameras and questions .

Tonight is the annual gala event for my charity, and with that, my entire family, their friends, as well as the Central Square crew—minus Tinsley's parents—and their friends all come out for it. The hospital is here in full force with board members and department chiefs. Various society pages and sites are here taking pictures and interviewing random attendees.

Tinsley stayed on my arm while I glad-handed big supporters and introduced her as my fiancée.

To my parents, my family, and my friends, it's fake. To everyone else, it's real.

The lies burn my tongue, and there will be a reckoning for them. A lie this big doesn't fade into oblivion. It grows like a fire, unpredictable, destructive, and too hot to handle. With any luck, we'll be able to douse the flame when the time comes, but I have no idea how to do that now that Tinsley and I are secretly together.

There is no calling off a fake engagement and staying together if staying together is even an option for us. I'm doing my best to take it day by day, to not think about the future and what's next, or how things are already spinning out of control. And when it's just us in the apartment or we're going about our daily lives in different places, that's easier to do.

But being here tonight, the lie is even more flagrant, the secret is blurring lines, and it feels nearly impossible to keep up. I love that I can be out with her tonight, even if it's not real. She's in my bed, wearing my ring, but it's still not real.

I sip on my bourbon and watch Tinsley from across the room chatting with Wren, Katy, Keegan, Kenna, Sorel, and Serena. Sorel and Serena are my uncle Landon's twin girls, and it's great that Sorel recently moved back home to Boston. Serena works for Monroe Fashion and per Tinsley, she only wears Monroe gowns to events. I have no complaints given what she's wearing tonight .

I can't take my eyes off her.

As if reading my thoughts… "Your fiancée looks stunning tonight."

I turn and find my grandmother standing at the cocktail table behind me, a full martini resting on the table in front of her.

I give her a meaningful look. "You've been dodging me for weeks." I even drove out to the compound, but she wasn't home or had the staff tell me she wasn't. I join her at the table and kiss her cheek. "What's going on, Grandma? Why did you make that statement to the press?"

She places her hand over mine, and for a moment, she stares beyond me at the large ballroom. "This is an incredible thing you've done here, Stone. This charity you've built helps so many children."

"Thank you," I reply, trying not to let my impatience get the best of me. Not with my grandmother.

Her green eyes, the same color as mine, cast back at me, and she smiles. "You've grown so much in the last two years. You've matured and become the man I always knew you'd one day be. But it was hard won, wasn't it?"

I pause, studying her. I didn't tell everyone what I was doing when I went to Benthesicyme. I told my guys, and I told my parents, but that was about it. I didn't tell Forest and I certainly didn't tell the rest of my family including my grandparents. Most people think I was doing my billionaire bachelor playboy thing or just getting away for a bit on my sailboat. It wasn't the first time. I bought that boat when I was eighteen and spent time on her any chance I could.

So the fact that she knows has rendered me stunned.

"Yes. It was." It's about all I can muster.

She smiles knowingly. "You came for dinner at the compound the night you returned. Do you remember? "

I shake my head and then tilt it as the memory comes back. "It was Rory's birthday. You had a special dinner for her."

"Yes. And Forest was there."

I nod slowly, my eyes unblinking and my heart accelerating. How could she know? How could she possibly know?

"You couldn't look him in the eyes."

I swallow audibly, utterly frozen. "No. I couldn't."

"He was anxious to return to LA. Tinsley had returned home from her own trip a few days prior, and he was anxious to go and be with her."

"Grandma—"

"I've been around a long time, Stone. I watch the people I love very carefully. You were miserable that night. Heartsick. Your guilt was all over your face. You told everyone you were just exhausted from your trip. That being out on the boat for ten days alone was a lot. But you weren't there alone. Were you?"

I lick my suddenly dry lips and utter, "No. I wasn't."

No one knew that. Everyone, other than my guys, who knew about my mystery woman, thought I met her after that trip.

She smiles, but it's not smug or triumphant. It's a happy smile. A soft smile. "I thought not. When I saw those pictures of you and Tinsley outside the hospital, I was so pleased. Even if the headline was fake, the way you felt about her wasn't. If that didn't tell me everything, the ring you bought her does."

"That's why you invited her to your party. That's why you made a point to tell me she wasn't with Loomis and that she didn't belong to Forest anymore. You knew. All this time you knew how I secretly felt about her."

It's not a question. It's a bold statement, and it leaves me a little winded.

"As I said before, you've become quite the man and doctor, and I'm so very proud of you. Of everything that you are. But the one thing you've been missing since you came home is her. Love doesn't make excuses or allowances for other's feelings. When it's real, it cannot be denied. Nor should it be. Love is always worth the fight to win."

"And Forest?"

"Unrequited love breeds madness and obsession. He needs to stop living in the past and forcing something that will never be again. Sometimes that's a difficult habit to break until something makes us do it. Besides, I happen to know he dates regularly, whereas you do not."

I don't know how to respond, and I don't know what to say. Luckily, I'm interrupted by Tinsley, who comes over to greet my grandmother with hugs and kisses, and all conversation about Forest and love and my secret relationship with Tinsley immediately stops. The two of them chat about Tinsley's film, the album she's slowly been working on, and the Abbot-Fritz charity.

And when that's all done, my grandmother passes her back over to me with a mild, "Why don't you dance with your fiancée? She's too beautiful not to be shown off."

With that, my grandmother leaves us, and I do as I'm told, still a bit shell-shocked. I take my fiancée onto the dance floor, draw her close, and dance with her.

"Are you okay?" Tinsley whispers as we sway near other couples.

"My grandmother knows the truth about us. About how I feel about you. She's known it all this time."

Her violet eyes round. "She has?"

"I shouldn't be surprised. Octavia Abbot-Fritz seems to know everything at all times, but I didn't see that coming."

"Oh my god, that's wild." Tinsley laughs lightly, but all I can think about is how my grandmother told me to fight for Tinsley. To fight for something that can't be denied. I don't have to act yet. I have another couple of months to figure this out and see where Tinsley is. But my grandmother is right. And I plan to fight like hell for Tinsley when the time comes.

The rest of the night passes quickly. I make a speech, and we do our slideshow of kids who have benefited to let everyone know exactly where their money is going and how we spend it. There's a silent auction as well as a live one, and when the night is done, I can't wipe my smile, knowing we just raised a hell of a lot of money that's going to change the lives of kids who need it most.

Between that and my grandmother's words in my head, I feel light. Almost euphoric.

"Our pictures are everywhere," Tinsley muses, her head on my shoulder, her feet kicked up onto the seat across from us in the back of the limo.

"I'm not shocked."

There were photographers all over the event. The room was packed with local celebrities, Loomis came as well, which was very cool of him.

"It's a good one. See?" She turns her phone, and there we are, Tinsley on my arm, both of us looking at each other and smiling.

"It's a good one," I agree. "Yet another one for our future nine thousand grandchildren to see."

"Speaking of, everyone I met tonight wants to know if we've set a date. I didn't know what to say."

"January twelfth," rolls off my tongue without any thought. That's the day after her last Boston concert. By then, she's done filming. Usually, films don't take this long, but with the holidays thrown in there and the fact that they've fallen behind schedule, things are getting stretched. "Or maybe we should just fly to Vegas tonight and get married."

Her head swivels in my direction, and she stares at me while trying to read my expression to determine if I'm serious or not. My tone wasn't, but the thought is starting to brew a little despite how flippantly it first rolled off my tongue.

She snorts incredulously. "You want to fly to Vegas tonight and get married?"

I shrug and then tilt my head. "Bad idea?"

She laughs. "Um, yeah. I'd say it is."

"I take it a quickie Vegas wedding isn't on your bucket list."

"My father would cut off your balls."

"It's true. He would. Bad idea then. I'm very fond of my balls," I quip, my voice light as I continue to tease her a bit. "Besides, we'll need them for our ten kids if we want nine thousand grandkids."

She gives me a look. "Are you okay?"

"That's the second time tonight you've asked me."

"I think the question bears repeating."

I chuckle. "My grandmother threw me off tonight. She has a tendency to do that. I'm also living a life with you that's part fake and part something I never thought I'd get. I'm not sure I know how to do that so well. We'll tell people my kickass, superstar fiancée has a busy schedule, and we haven't figured out a date for our wedding yet."

She frowns, but before she can reply, we pull up in front of my building, and the driver opens the door for us. I take her hand and we race for the door, fighting the chill in the air and a couple of tabloid assholes still there. We climb into the elevator, and she wraps her arms around my neck as we shoot up sixteen floors.

"When I get married one day, I don't want it to be following a fake engagement."

"I know. Me either. I wasn't serious about Vegas." My hands meet her ass over her coat and dress. "What do you want?"

"You." The word comes out sweet and easy.

"You have me. Anytime you want me."

I dip and take her lips with mine in a demanding kiss. The truth is, I've never felt such a tormenting mix of protectiveness, love, and blinding desire to make someone mine. It's making me rush things I don't want to rush. Things that should never be rushed.

Part of me can't seem to help myself. She's water slipping through my fingers.