“Just hurry up, I don’t like being late.” I strode from the bathroom and left him alone.

Lord, that man had an insatiable sexual appetite. I was fucked. Literally.

* * *

When we finally made it down to the beach, Fiona was chatting with the photographer, Gentry. A girl was sitting in a makeup chair with her back to me while a makeup artist worked on her. Ben’s coworker today, obviously.

When she turned I instantly recognized her. London. One of Ben’s former girlfriends I’d met last summer in Paris. I hadn’t known that she’d be here. She was clad in a barely-there fire-engine red string bikini so small I could see her ovaries.

When she hopped down from the chair my breathing faltered. She was perfectly tanned and toned with bouncy curls and smoky eye makeup. She looked stunning. A slow smile curled on Fiona’s lips as she watched me look over London.

My heart throbbed in my chest as I watched Ben warmly greet London. Why hadn’t he told me his ex would be here? She pointed at the assortment of briefs he’d be expected to wear and they shared a laugh.

Ben approached Gentry next and shook his hand. They talked for a few minutes then he disappeared inside the onsite trailer to change into his first swimsuit.

I stood there, uselessly digging my toes into the sand, feeling utterly alone and out of place without his presence. There was no way I was talking to Fiona and I was too shy to approach London. I doubted she’d remember me from our one awkward encounter during the industry party in Paris. That was the first night Ben informed me, and the world, that I was his girlfriend.

Several minutes later the door to the trailer opened and Ben stepped out.

Holy Speedo, Batman.

His abs and chest looked amazing but when my gaze traveled lower to the large bulge protruding proudly in his snug briefs, I nearly choked on my own tongue. God, he was delicious. All hardened muscle and masculine beauty wrapped up in one tempting package. I wanted to throw a towel around him and shield him from view. Obviously a ridiculous notion considering what he did for a living.

Ben padded barefoot over to the makeup artist, who mussed up his hair so it was perfectly rumpled and then dotted concealer on a few spots before rubbing down his naked skin with bronzing lotion. I wondered if that lotion was edible because he looked good enough to lick.

They got into position and began shooting, several poses together lounging in the sand and playing in the surf, and then changed swimsuits, repeating the process.

I normally loved watching Ben work, but watching him cuddle in the sand with London, wrapped up in each other’s arms and frolicking in the waves, was not fun. Not one bit. I hated seeing Ben’s perfect hands, his long fingers, gripping London’s trim waist. I hated the familiar way her hand curled around his bicep. My stomach twisted like someone had twirled a fork inside me. I felt sick watching them.

They looked great together. The perfect couple. Just knowing they’d been a real couple, that they’d been intimate, that London was one of the three girls Ben had slept with killed me. Deep-seated fear and insecurity rushed up inside me, clouding my head, and making me question everything.

Needing a minute to myself, I turned my back on the shoot and walked off down the beach. I gulped lungfuls of fresh ocean air, pushing away the urge to cry. It was stupid. Ben loved me. He’d told me that repeatedly. But there was no denying that watching him pose, hold, and caress his ex on set was hard. I wasn’t that secure in our relationship to begin with. And London, well . . . she was a perfect ten. Winner of the genetic lottery. And she’d slept with my boyfriend. Awesome.

When I made it back to the set everyone was packing up. Ben and London sat at the edge of the water, butts planted in the sand and feet out in the lapping waves. Ben tipped his head back, obviously amused at something she’d said. Taking a deep, calming breath, I boldly approached them. Ben rose to his feet, pulling me into a hug.

“Baby, there you are. Everything okay?” His hazel gaze probed mine.

“Fine,” I lied.

London stood, dusting the sand from her petite bottom. “Hi, Emmy!”

“Hi.” Gosh, she was gorgeous and nice too.

“That outfit fits you perfectly, I’m glad to see.” She smiled at me.

My brow creased as I struggled to understand her meaning. Ben shifted uncomfortably next to me.

London tipped her head back, laughing. “Ben called and asked for my help shopping for you. I picked out all your vacation clothes.” She smiled at me again, her bright white teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

My stomach dropped like a stone. I thought Ben had picked out and packed the pretty clothes for me. Learning that it was actually his ex-girlfriend stung like a venomous bite. “Oh. I hadn’t realized. Thank you,” I managed to choke out. “Yes, the clothes fit.” No doubt several sizes bigger than London herself wore. Lord, that was embarrassing. The diet started tomorrow. I would wake up early and run every morning, not eat carbs, or anything processed . . . I began dictating the diet plan in my head when Ben’s arm slipped around my waist and tugged me closer.

“Talk to me. You seem upset.”

My gaze traveled to London and she returned my uneasy expression.

“Hey.” She placed a hand on my shoulder. “Ben and I dated several years ago. It was short lived and”—sorry, she mouthed to Ben—“not all that meaningful. We’ve both moved on. And I’ve never seen him happier. I’m happy for you both.”

“Thank you.” I nodded. It was stupid and insecure of me to feel threatened by their friendship. I repeated that over and over in my head. I didn’t want to be that type of girlfriend. But my damn heart was still throbbing painfully in my chest as I watched London walk away.

Ben was still planted firmly in the sand at my side, waiting for my response. I swallowed heavily. “I feel so in the dark all the time with you, Ben. You should have told me that London was going to be here.”

His eyebrows lifted. “I swore I told you she was booked for this shoot with me.”

I shook my head. That was not a detail I’d forget.

He pressed his forehead to mine. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I was so preoccupied with actually getting you to come, I didn’t think. And I wanted your bags all packed and ready so that something so mundane didn’t stand in your way. I called London and gave her my American Express. I knew she’d know just what to do. She dropped off all the bags at my apartment and I looked through every article, imagining you in them, and packed them all in the suitcase myself.”

I smiled at his soft, tender tone, the look of genuine concern for me in his eyes. He was trying. He might not know the first thing about being a boyfriend, but he was trying.

“I love you, baby. Please don’t invent things to worry about. There’s nothing between London and I. We’re friends. I promise you.”

I flinched ever so slightly. He’d promised me things before. And now Fiona was pregnant and the last three women he’d slept with all stood within thirty feet of each other on this sandy beach. “I’m sorry.” I shook my head to clear the thoughts running rampant. “I must be getting a little emotional.”

He took my hands in his. “Don’t apologize for how you feel. When I saw you take off down the beach it took everything in me not to go after you. I want to know how you’re feeling, what you’re thinking. Always. But promise me you won’t take off again.”

“I promise,” I murmured.

Ben tipped my chin up to his. “Breathe for me, Emmy.”

I pulled in a deep shuddering breath.

“There, that’s my girl.” His hands moved up and down my bare arms, lightly caressing them. He caught something in my tone. “Now tell me what else is bothering you.”

“I just didn’t know London, um, bought my clothes,” I murmured.

“No, baby. I bought them. She picked them out.”

I nodded. I knew that.

“Now tell me what this is really about.” His tone was sure and steady.

“This world is all new to me still. When I saw your hands all over her, the way you two looked together . . . I just started ticking off all the ways I don’t measure up.”

An angry wave of tension rolled off him and his hands curled around my elbows, locking me in place and pinning me with his eyes. “I’m thankful as shit you don’t fit into this world. You remind me that there’s so much more to life. You’re my something real to grasp on to at the end of the day. You ground me. I love you and that’s not going to change just because I spent the day rolling around in the sand with London for my job.”

My gaze drifted downward.

“Baby.” He lifted my chin again. “It might look glamorous, but my sand chafed balls would disagree.”

I chuckled lightly. “I think I’m ready to go back to the room.”

He nodded. “Then let’s go. I need to wash all this damn bronzer off my skin, too.”

We’d just started back for the hotel when Fiona stepped in our path, her happy little smile pinning Ben. “I wanted to say thank-you,” she purred.

“Uh . . . okay,” Ben said, eyeing her curiously.

“For the baby shower gift. That was very sweet of you, love,” Fiona said, addressing Ben.

He’d gotten her a baby gift?

My body went rigid and I felt Ben’s hand tighten around mine. So much for the promise I’d just made not to run. I felt like fleeing for the moon right about now. Forget that, the moon wasn’t far enough.

“You’re welcome,” he retuned, his tone short but polite.

Fiona sauntered away, her hand resting against her ever-growing belly.

Ben gripped my shoulders, turning me to face him, his face stricken with panic. “I want you to know, I didn’t get her something for her baby. I just chipped in ten bucks toward the office gift. It was a stroller from everyone at Status; it wasn’t just from me.”

“Oh.” I shouldn’t care, should I? She was still his agent. He worked with Status. That meant he was practically required to chip in on the boss’s gift. He was looking at me with the most worried stare. I took a deep breath and released it slowly. I placed my palm on his cheek. “It’s okay. I’m not mad. She tried to make it sound worse than it was—but that’s to be expected. She’s a bitch.”

A crooked smile overtook his mouth. “So you’re not mad?”

“I would have preferred if you didn’t chip in at all so she wouldn’t have anything to grasp on to, but it’s fine.”

He kissed my lips. “You’re the best. I don’t deserve you and I know that. I handed Gunnar the ten dollars without even thinking. I’ll try to be more aware of this type of thing.”

I hoped his love would be enough to outweigh all the baggage threatening to overwhelm me at every turn.


Ben

The cool blast of air-conditioning inside our room felt terrific. Emmy kicked off her sandals at the door and sunk to the couch. I leaned over the back of the sofa and kissed the top of her head. “I’m going to shower.” I wasn’t kidding about having sand in some pretty undesirable locations.

“Okay.” Her tone was despondent. But reading her subtle signals, and desire to be alone right now, I left her and closed the bathroom door behind me.

Stepping under the spray of hot water, I stood there uselessly, letting it beat down against my back, easing out the tension in my shoulders. I wish I could make Emmy see what she meant to me, help her understand that I wasn’t this way with other women. Ever. She was special, everything I’d ever wanted.

I didn’t hear the bathroom door open, but sensing I was no longer alone I opened my eyes and found Emmy’s big, grayish-blue gaze watching me.

“You need a hand?” Her gaze slid down my naked chest and abs, darting back up just as quickly. Her breath shuddered in a soft inhale.

“If you think you can handle the job.” My voice dropped low and my face stayed impassive.

Emmy’s tongue wet her bottom lip and her nipples pressed against the little cotton camisole she wore. As if taking a moment to think it over, she paused at the threshold to the marble-and-glass–enclosed shower. I remained still, standing in the spray of warm water. All except for my cock, which started to slowly rise in his own salute.

Apparently done thinking, Emmy pulled her shirt over her head and stepped out of her shorts. It took her just a moment to unsnap her bra and kick off her panties and then she was stepping forward, reaching for my outstretched hand.