In Her Element
EASTON
There aren't many things I'd thank Preston fucking Sinclair for.
Showing up at my house yesterday might actually be one of them.
At least the asshole gave me an excuse to get my woman out of the house.
The way Riley's face lit up the second I told her I had a surprise planned almost makes me want to thank him.
Almost.
Then I remember it's Preston Sinclair.
He doesn't deserve my gratitude. He deserves a punch in the face.
Saturday morning is off to a damn good start.
We're heading into the hills, farther than my place, past the last gated estates and into the canyon where the trees close in over the road.
I don't tell Riley where we're going.
She keeps trying to guess from the passenger seat, a coffee cup cradled between her hands and her camera resting at her feet.
The morning sun spills through the windshield, catching the gold in her hair and bringing out every freckle across her nose.
She's wearing dark jeans, a soft cream blouse, and her hair is pulled back in a ponytail.
I keep stealing glances at her. I can't help it. She looks like she stepped straight out of my favorite movie.
Like a dream.
And somehow, I'm the lucky bastard who gets to live it.
I look ahead to hide the smile on my lips.
“Come on Easton, give me a hint…” She drawls the last word, sipping her coffee.
I cast a glance, and my heart does a double flip. She’s pouting. Her soft glistening lips are so tempting that I want to lean over to taste them.
Hell. I know how they taste. I haven’t stopped kissing her since the first time it happened.
“No, baby, it’s a surprise, and we’re almost there.”
“Just one tiny hint.”
“No.”
“You're enjoying this.”
“All part of the plan,” I wink.
A blush spreads across her cheeks, and she finally looks away.
She looks out the window.
The city thins. We are heading north, into the hills.
I woke up this morning with the whole week still sitting on me.
The car in the driveway. Preston’s polished face. Riley’s hand on the door frame after.
I overheard the tail end of the call to her mom, and the way she was quiet after.
She has not been outside the house in eight days. I have been watching her, and the longing in her eyes whenever she looks out the kitchen window in the mornings.
And today, I decided it’s time she sees the outside world again.
I called a florist yesterday. Not the retail kind. A private greenhouse and cutting garden, a friend of mine owns off Mulholland, tucked into the side of a canyon, with glass walls and orchids and the kind of light that makes a bad camera look expensive.
Once I explained my need for privacy, she let me have the whole property between eight and noon today.
I turn off the main road onto the unmarked drive.
Riley sits up.
“Easton…”
“Yeah?”
“Where are we?”
“You’ll see. Just a few minutes.”
I pull up to the gate. It opens for me. I drive up the gravel drive to the main house. The greenhouse is behind it, a long, low arc of glass with fog on the inside from the morning damp.
She stares at it.
“W-where’s this?”
“Your studio for today, and I can be your muse, if you’ll have me.”
A smile stretches my lips.
“F-for me?” Her eyes find me just as the engine roars to a stop.
“Just a little something to get the week off your mind, baby.”
“E-Easton…”
She looks at me.
She turns her face and looks at the greenhouse again, and her hand comes up to her mouth, and she doesn't say anything for a long time. When she looks at me again, I see her eyes glistening.
“Shhh…” I reach across and wipe at the tears. I lean in and kiss her temple. “Come on, sweetheart.”
I get out. I come around and open her door.
She steps out with the camera around her neck already, and she walks toward the greenhouse, still in awe, and I lean against the car and let her go ahead of me.
I let her have the first fifteen minutes alone.
I know how she works now.
She needs to walk the space, find the light, and the right positions and angles. Then she’ll run a quick test with a few shots, and thereafter, get into the real thing.
A few times, she’ll come over, show me different shots and ask what I think, then she’ll ask me to pose with a grin on her face, and I’ll make funny faces while she’s at it. Because anything to put a smile on her face and have her unleash that carefree spirit.
After a while, I sit on a low bench near the door and just watch her work.
She's in the back corner, crouched, the camera up, framing a spray of white orchids against the glass with the canyon behind it. The shutter clicks. She adjusts. Two steps left. Shutter. Advance. She has forgotten I'm here.
My phone lights up in my pocket.
I ignore it.
It lights up again.
Then it lights up a third time in ten seconds.
The disturbance annoys me. I keep my eyes fixed on Riley even as I pull the device from my pants pocket, not wanting to miss even a second.
My eyes dart to the screen.
Diane. Four missed calls. Coach Brennan. Two missed calls. Three text messages from Kai. One from the team publicist. And a news alert from ESPN sitting at the top of the screen with a photograph on the thumbnail that I would recognize from any distance, in any cap, at any resolution.
Me.
Riley.
The parking lot outside Valentina's, my hand at the small of her back as Riley turns toward me, leaving no doubt who she's with because, this time, both of our faces are perfectly visible.
I open the article.
BLAKE’S NEW CATCH: LA Ice star Easton Blake seen with Preston Sinclair’s runaway bride. An affair with the troubled fiancée?
The story isn't written to expose me. It's written to frame me. Preston is the wronged party. Riley is his troubled ex. I'm the man she's currently staying with.
The headline says all I need to know.
He wrote this. He engineered this. His power move to pull Riley out of hiding.
I close my eyes.
There is a soft knock on the greenhouse door behind me. I turn. It's Elena, the greenhouse manager. Her face is careful.
“Mr. Blake. There are photographers outside the front gate.
About a dozen of them. They started arriving twenty minutes ago.
The gate is holding, but they are climbing the fence for a shot.
There is a back exit through the service drive that comes out on the fire road.
Your car won't fit. You can use mine if you need to leave right away.”
My legs move before I can fully process her words. And there’s only one word on my mind.
Cover.
I need to get Riley out of here before all hell breaks loose.
“How long do I have?”
“Now.” Her eyes flick toward the front of the gallery. “You have now.”
The concern on her face tells me everything I need to know.
I look at Riley.
She's still in the back corner. Still shooting. She has not looked up.
She's inside the one place she goes where the rest of the world stops existing for her, and I'm about to walk over there and take it from her.
I cross the greenhouse.
She turns before I reach her. Something in the way I'm walking, I think. Her nose scrunches in a frown.
“Bored? I’m sorry I got too in my head and forgot all about you.” She smiles apologetically.
Oh, my sweet girl.
“We need to go.” It feels like my heart is being cracked open as I watch the smile fall off her gorgeous face.
“W-why?”
“I’ll explain in the car. But, we need to leave now.”
She looks around, then at Elena. Slowly, she rises to her feet. I grab her hand and gently pull her forward, moving a step ahead just to make sure she won’t be visible first, if we run into any of the paparazzi outside.
Elena is already waiting by the back door, and moments later we're in her little Honda, speeding down the service road before Riley has a chance to ask the question I can see forming on her lips.
About a mile down the fire road, Elena pulls over.
One of the gallery employees is already waiting with my car, exactly where Elena told him to meet us.
We transfer.
Riley is silent, her eyes on the road.
I hand her my phone with the article open. She reads it and her face falls. The calm expression from a minute ago is replaced by the fear and worry I’ve come to associate with Preston’s presence in her life.
“He did this.”
She stares at the phone.
“I-I have to leave. I have to go somewhere. I can't be at your house. If they find me at your house, I…”
“Riley.”
“Drop me off somewhere. Anywhere. A hotel. I will figure it out. This is going to ruin you. Your career. Your contract with the club. I can’t… It’s not worth it, Easton…”
“Riley.”
She stops but the panic on her face breaks my heart, and I know I need to fix it now.
I pull to the curb, lean over to undo her seatbelt and pull her across until she’s straddling my legs, arms resting on her shoulders and the seat reclined.
“Baby…”
Her eyes are down, and they’re wet again. “Please, look at me.”
I cradle her face and gently tip her chin until our eyes meet. “You have been running your whole life. Today is the day you stop. And he’s already done the worst he can.”
She doesn't answer.
“Remember our agreement? The fake dating? He’s given us the perfect opportunity to launch that and have you reclaim your life.
Don’t you see? He’s playing into the old you.
The one he knows is too scared to cross him and will do whatever it takes to avoid a scandal.
But you’ve already broken free. You don’t play by his rules anymore.
Take this chance, and get your freedom with it.
Let the world know you’re no longer with Preston Sinclair, Riley.
It’s your best shot, and I’ll be with you through it all, until you say otherwise. ”
She stares at me wordlessly, and I can’t tell if she’s accepted my words.
My arms around her tighten until she rests her head on my chest, and I kiss her temple. We stay in this position for a few minutes until my phone rings again.
I glance at the phone holder, and it’s Coach Brennan.
“My office, now.” That’s all he says the moment I answer the call.
From his voice, I can tell he’s pissed, and judging by the multiple missed calls, I know I’m fucked.