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“I’m saying I may have misjudged you, Paige.”
She wasn’t pouting like some child. She was thinking about how screwed she was. There was a distinct difference.
Gannon laughed and she found herself smiling. “I like you, Paige.” She sipped and swallowed hard. “I tolerate you, Gannon.”
“Oh my God. What are you doing?” Paige’s voice barely rose above the spray from the shower head. “I’m washing your damn hair.”
“Gannon—” “Save it. We’ll argue about this later.”
“Relax. I grew up with Cat. She made me help her with her hair sometimes, and if you ever repeat that to anyone,” he said, wielding the dryer like a weapon, “I will have you dismembered.”
“Do you have any…” he mimed squirting something into his hands. “Product?” Paige asked. “Yeah, like mousse stuff?” She pointed at a silver can on the corner of the vanity. “Do you know how to use that?” “I build fine furniture and houses and host a TV show for a living. I think I can handle squirting shit out of a can.” Still, he paused long enough to read the directions before squeezing a dollop into his palm. He rubbed his hands together and worked them through her hair.
He stirred, burying his face in her hair. “Go back to sleep, honey,” he murmured. And for once in her life, she did what she was told.
They were officially dating whether Paige liked it or not, whether she acknowledged it or not. And he wasn’t leaving her side.
“By the way, when were you going to feel like telling me you spent the night with Paige?” “What are you talking about?” he hedged. “You smell like Paige’s coconut shampoo.”
Gannon on the other hand wanted to grab the camera out of Rico’s hands and smash it over Eddie’s head. It wasn’t either of their faults, but he couldn’t help lumping them in with the network assholes demanding Paige’s humiliating recount of “the incident” as Eddie called it.
Yeah, now was not a great time. Now was a clusterfuck, the fuckiest clusterfuck in the history of clusterfuckery.
She’d drawn him, or what he assumed was him, flying above a crayon-sketched mansion with smiling stick figures representing Malia and her mother on the purple front lawn. “What’s that?” he asked pointing. “That’s your cape. ‘Cause you’re a superhero, and you saved our house,” Malia danced in place.
“God, you are so gorgeous,” she murmured. “That’s my line, princess.”
“Usually the only thing that makes a woman look the way you look is a penis that turns into an asshole.”
“Eventually you learn they’re all assholes in their own special snowflake kind of way.”
“Don’t be an idiot. It’s not your style.”
“I owe you an apology.” His eyes gleamed in the dusk. “Why?” The question was quiet, husky. “I didn’t believe that Nonni existed.”
“Here’s your first bit of family business. I’m in love with Paige here, but she won’t give me the time of day. So I’m going to be wearing her down during the course of this shoot, and I’d appreciate you all singing my praises to her.”
She slapped a hand over his mouth. “Just. Stop. Talking. Or I’m going to use a nail gun to shut your mouth.” “We don’t have the air compressor hooked up yet,” he murmured against her palm.
“Of course not. I’m telling you we were in a relationship.” “Well, it couldn’t have been a very good one if I had no idea about it.”
“Are you just going to do a documentary pointing out all the double standard shit? Or are you going to show women how to stand up to that garbage? From this penis-wielding guy, I think you’d be doing a disservice to your audience if you only show them how to identify a problem, not solve it.”
“You’re an exceptional woman who is living a life you designed. If you feel one second of guilt for not doing what’s expected of you, you’re really going to piss me off.”
“Why are you so nice to me?” Paige murmured, inhaling his scent. “I’m a glutton for punishment, and you just defended me to the dragon lady.” Paige smiled against his chest. “She’d love that nickname.” “I’ll be sure to use it at Thanksgiving.”
“One thing,” he said, eyes boring into her. “We’re in a relationship.”
“Put your clothes on, Paige. We’re having a birthday.” “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t want a birthday.” “I don’t want a birthday, Gannon. I don’t want a relationship, Gannon.” He was misquoting her in an obnoxious falsetto. “Sometimes you’re really infuriating, you know that?”
She did find something new here. The shelf next to the TV held a framed picture that hadn’t been there before. She picked it up to examine it. It was one of the candid shots from the set of Kings of Construction. Paige was standing hands on hips in a tank top and shorts, giving orders and grinning.
“You’re baking me cupcakes.” “Yeah, well if you would have bothered to share anything personal at all like the fact that it was your birthday, it would have been a really nice Death by Chocolate cake from the bakery around the corner. But you didn’t, so you have to deal with these. Peel.”
“You’re not going to cry, are you?” he asked gruffly. Her lips curved. “No.” “Good, save it for when they’re done and burnt, and you still have to eat them or you’ll hurt my feelings.”
screen and lost his train of thought. “I’ve loved you since this exact moment,” Gannon’s gravelly voice announced in a voiceover. “You were just off camera, and something Lou said made you laugh. The sunlight was hitting you like you were in a spotlight. You had this ratty hoodie on and gym shorts that showed off about a mile of those gorgeous legs, and then you turned around and yelled at me to hurry it up. I didn’t know at the time that it was love, but my feelings for you haven’t changed since that day.”
“So that’s how long I’ve loved you. Twenty-one months, twelve days, and,” he checked his watch. “Ten hours.”
“I want you to be my wife. I want us to work really fucking hard. I want to have kids with you. I don’t know how many, but they’ll probably be loud and stubborn like us. I want to call you first whenever I have news. I want to spend the rest of my life just trying to keep up with you.”
“You’re the best person I’ve ever known in my life, and if you tell Nonni that, I’ll call you a dirty liar. But you are the best, Paige. You’re smart and driven and so damn sexy and strong. You put up with me without crying all the time—except for right now. And I can’t think of anyone in the world I’d rather share my life and this house with.”
“Weddings always get me. And if memory serves, you got a little misty-eyed at ours,” she pointed out. “Allergies,” he claimed.
