Chapter 9

That night, Lilith agonized over whether she should actually follow through with her plan to steal over to Dane’s room. Technically, he’d invited her. But he’d gotten all weird about the massage and then things had kind of fallen apart, only to be knit back together when he’d confessed that he hadn’t wanted to take advantage of the situation when they really didn’t know each other all that well.

That had tipped things in her mind. Any guy who backed off because he wanted to make sure they had an opportunity to learn more about each other first was worth taking time out to create said opportunity—such as tapping on Dane’s door after the crew had left for the day.

And here she was. About to set something in motion that she would have sworn she’d never do. There was no good reason to be standing in the hallway staring at the wood grain paneling that separated her from Dane. Except one. Because she wanted to spend time with a man who made her heart race and her stomach flutter.

She knocked.

Dane opened the door almost instantly, his face lighting up as they locked gazes. A heavy significance snapped into place between them, ruffling her skin until she felt goosebumps pop up.

“I’m uh…” Nervous. Why was she nervous? It was just Dane. Except they had such an unusual relationship she still didn’t know how to define. “Not sure what to say.”

“I think you’re supposed to say trick or treat,” he rumbled in his low voice, which made her laugh and simultaneously dialed down the tension a notch.

Right. This after-hours visit wasn’t anything to get worked up over. They were just two people who liked each other and lived in the same house. Roommates practically. That qualification made it easy to admit, “I was a little lonely.”

Totally true. But not quite the reason either. She wanted to remove the barriers between them, see what happened if they just dove in.

Widening the door without comment, he stepped aside so she could enter his room. Apparently he had no problem with that approach. Like, at all. She’d expected to hang out in the kitchen, take a walk, suggest a late-night snack at one of the restaurants on the ground floor.

The open door represented something far more intimate.

She hesitated a fraction of a second before she stepped over the threshold, savoring the little wave of excitement that unfurled inside her, as if she’d done something more momentous than merely taking a few steps.

When she reached his dresser, she backed up against it casually, resting her palm on it as if she often found herself in the bedroom of a man she was attracted to. Dane left the door open and stood there contemplating her, arms crossed, as if he couldn’t quite figure out the next steps either.

Probably she should have dragged him out into the living room where the expectation in the atmosphere wouldn’t be so thick. But the locale seemed serendipitous. Everything between them perched on the brink of something new and special. The rest of the house felt so much like a set. It was better to be in a place where the reality show miasma wasn’t draped all over everything.

“Here we are,” she said inanely. Wow, was this what his stoic silence had reduced her to? A blathering idiot? “You’re allowed to talk, you know.”

“I’m trying to keep myself from blurting out the ten or twenty things on the tip of my tongue,” he replied wryly. Provocatively. “So be careful what you wish for.”

“Wishes are not supposed to be made with care.”

Her curiosity flared. What was he stopping himself from saying? She had to know.

Instead of hanging out by the dresser like a dolt, she wandered over to the bed and climbed into it, sitting cross-legged in the dead center of the dark blue comforter. She arched a brow. “So on that note, I wish you’d relax and come sit by me.”

In a blur of movement, he crossed to the bed, then crawled onto the mattress and stretched out, resting his head on one upturned palm. “Was I supposed to be wearing pajamas?”

She tried to grin, but her muscles were having a hard time obeying commands, probably because they were too busy absorbing all the heat that had just invaded her space. What had she been thinking by prodding him into joining her? The mattress was new, thank goodness, so it hadn’t dipped all that much when he rolled into the spot less than three inches from her knee. But he was still right there, within touching distance.

She swallowed and scrambled for a way to get things back on an even keel. “You wear pajamas?”

“With cartoon pineapples all over them,” he said. “Oh, wait. I might be thinking about a character in a movie. Why do you ask?”

No reason. Just, you know. An idiot in your presence.

“I was having a hard time picturing you in pajamas. The pineapples didn’t help.”

“Really? That’s funny,” he murmured, his low voice scraping across her skin deliciously. “I’m not having any trouble picturing you in pineapple pajamas. The kind with long pants and the buttons up the front? They’re cute on you.”

“Cute. Just what every woman wants to hear about her choice of bedtime attire.” She whacked him on the arm, which put an amused glint in his expression that she couldn’t tear her gaze from.

“Feel free to describe your preferred sleepwear,” he offered magnanimously, peering up at her from under his lashes, which turned out to be an incendiary look on him. “Especially if it’s satin or red.”

Her breath caught as she picked up the underlying thread woven through the comment. The subject had veered too far toward the risqué, and not for the reasons she would have said. She should be discouraging such naughty talk, not shifting a hair closer where she could breathe in his masculine scent.

“Maybe I will. After you tell me what deep dark secrets you have that made you give up a massage at the hands of a professional.”

That was the agenda here. Move the dial in the right order. He’d held back for a reason, and she’d bearded him in his den strictly to find out why.

Dane’s fingers traced a pattern on the comforter near her thigh. “Did I say they were secrets?”

Intrigued with the hint of color in his voice, she watched his index finger circle close enough to brush the fabric of her yoga pants. “No. Are they?”

Odds were good. Everyone had something they didn’t want other people to know. And as her friends had pointed out, only someone with a dicey history would sign up to marry a stranger on a reality show. Not that she was throwing stones—far from it.

She could relate to history that should be forgotten. Did they share a painful past that would form a bonding experience? Goodness, she hoped so.

Nodding, he shrugged one shoulder. “Things I’ve never told anyone.”

Her throat burned as she registered tension carving lines around his eyes. Without thinking about how it might be interpreted, she slid her fingers over his and laced them together. Held on. Maybe that was the key to all relationships. Grab onto someone and don’t let go, no matter what.

Dane rolled to his back, dragging her hand with his to finally rest over his sternum. His heart thumped under her palm, erratic, unsteady. A lot like hers. But for a different reason, she had a feeling.

He stared at the ceiling instead of her and she sensed this was a difficult subject for him. Something huge and tender swelled behind her ribcage, and the very last thing she wished for in that moment was yet another barrier between them. Especially since she’d been the one to push the subject by appearing at his door and barging into his life when he’d been clearly trying to avoid having this conversation.

“Maybe you don’t have to dive right into that,” she suggested impulsively. “We’ve got all night.”

“Do we?” His blue eyes sought hers, creating this electric connection that should be a lot more frightening than it was.

She stroked a thumb over his as it rested on his button-down shirt, the dual sensations of his skin and the soft fabric far more crisp than they should be. But everything was heightened by the weighty atmosphere. “If you want. I’m not in a hurry.”

“We have a lot of hours to fill, then. What will we talk about if it’s not the elephant in the room?”

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I wouldn’t call it an elephant. More like a…cow.”

His return smile broadened hers. “The cow in the room. That’s a new one on me. Is that what the cool kids are calling it these days?”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never cared what anyone else was doing. Only whether I was happy, fulfilled, whatever. If we want to call it the cow in the room, we will. It’s only representative of something we haven’t talked about yet and in my mind, it’s small and easily ignored. Certainly not a giant, scary beast that has a long appendage that can strangle you.”

“I don’t know about you, but if there was a cow in my room, I’d have a hard time ignoring it.” His beautiful lashes swept down over his eyes in a rapid blink that made her laugh. “Are you happy and fulfilled?”

She shrugged. “Sure. I have friends and the job I’ve always wanted. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’re a gorgeous woman with a great personality. That’s a highly unusual combination in and of itself, let alone one who’s single. Throw in one reality TV show where you married a stranger, and you have a recipe for someone who is slightly off balance, not one who’s happy and fulfilled,” he said lightly.

“Same goes,” she said with a cocked eyebrow and spread her thumb across the well-defined planes of his chest which she’d gotten quite the introduction to in the kitchen the other day. “You’re a gorgeous man with no annoying personal habits, who has also gone out of his way to avoid taking things deeper with a woman who has basically thrown herself at you. I’m starting to wonder if you’re even real.”

His whole body perked up, practically vibrating with energy she could feel under her palm. “You’re throwing yourself at me?”

She had to laugh. “You’re so cute. Dane, I’m sitting on your bed, holding your hand and telling you I’m attracted to you. There’s no mystery to unravel here.”

All at once, he sat up, and all amusement in the situation vanished as he let go of her hand, shoving his through his hair repeatedly as if he couldn’t get rid of a headache. “You shouldn’t be attracted to me. We’re completely wrong for each other.”

“What?” She searched his face for the punchline but he wasn’t looking at her in favor of studying the comforter as if it held all the secrets of the universe. “That’s ridiculous. What’s so different about us?”

From where she sat, they were far more compatible than a reality TV show should have been able to cook up. What were the odds that Hollywood would actually figure out a magic formula to marriage, when a good number of normal people hadn’t been able to get it right?

“For starters, you’re the friendliest person I’ve ever met,” he ground out as if that was the worst quality in a person he could possibly articulate. “Do you ever sink into a bad mood?”

“Sometimes, I guess. Not really. I mean, I try hard not to dwell on stuff that makes me angry because why would I want to do that?” Mystified over the abrupt subject change, she stared at him. “Is this your precursor to telling me you’re unfriendly and constantly in a bad mood? Because I won’t believe you. You go out of your way to say things that make me laugh. On purpose. Don’t deny it.”

He rolled his eyes with considerable pique. “I wasn’t going to. And you’re being obtuse if you think compatibility is based on nothing more than the fact that I can tell when you’re uncomfortable and do what I can to lighten the mood.”

Her heart fell out of rhythm as she absorbed that. “You can?” But she didn’t need his nod to know it was true. That he did seem to have an uncanny sense of when she needed a tension breaker. “How is that not the exact recipe for why people gravitate to each other? What criteria would you use to pick a girlfriend, if it’s not someone you’re attracted to who’s friendly and never in a bad mood?”

He started to speak and then broke off, staring at her with something akin to confusion and not a little surprise. “Stop making such good points.”

“Stop throwing down so many obstacles and jump over one occasionally.”

“I would love to but I have zero athletic ability.” They both let brief smiles bloom, neither of which lasted. “This is all new to me. Most of my interaction with people happens digitally, and even then, it’s usually in the form of forensics. Tracing their fingerprints through the security breaches,” he supplied helpfully when she raised a brow.

Okay, well that explained why he might seek out a reality show to find love, but she didn’t think so. By his own admission, he didn’t seem eager to build a relationship at all, let alone with her. It tripped something inside her, a raging curiosity, a need to answer the challenge he’d unwittingly thrown down.

“Then I have to ask. Why did you audition for Bride at First Sight if it wasn’t to meet someone? Is it because of these secrets you’ve never told anyone?”

A switch flipped and his expression closed in. She had that precarious, pulse-stumbling sensation of having walked out onto a lake of ice, only to hear an ominous crack beneath her feet.

His eyelids slammed shut and he heaved a long breath. Finally he met her gaze. “I wanted to tell you. I should have told you before now.”

“Tell me what?” The gravity in his absolutes wasn’t lost on her and her heart stuttered as she sifted through a thousand and one possibilities in her imagination.

“I’m sorry for keeping it from you. It wasn’t fair, and I’m basically the biggest liar you’ve ever met.” Before she could process that, he rushed on. “I’ve had plastic surgery. A lot. This face you’re calling gorgeous? Not mine.”

That was his big secret? She let out a shaky breath that was half laugh and half relief. Honestly, she’d been braced for any number of huge revelations and instead, it was pretty minor. It was kind of adorable, actually. He’d been so worried about it that he’d backed off from spending time with her.

Adorable and misguided. Dang it if this wasn’t making her like him even more than she already did.

“That doesn’t make you a liar. Sweetie, I’m in the beautification business. There’s no difference in my mind between waxing and a nose job. Without that human drive to look the best we can, I’d be starving.”

Okay, she might still be soon if business didn’t pick up. It was on an upward swing, but only because of the show. Bride at First Sight needed a huge ratings influx.

“That’s not all. I took voice lessons and hired a fashion consultant. I did everything I could to stop looking like the guy I used to be.” With a self-effacing grin, he flexed one arm comically. “Worked out a lot too. That probably went the furthest of anything I did to erase who I was.”

“But Dane, there’s nothing wrong with all of that.” Emboldened, she crawled closer to him and sat on her heels and cupped his face in her palms, stroking the lines of his jaw that he’d apparently gone to considerable effort to create. “I like the way you look, sure. But that wouldn’t have mattered to me in the slightest. I started wanting to hang out with you off camera because you intrigue me. You’re fascinating. On the inside. And I feel…relaxed with you. Like I’ve always known you. Your physical appearance has nothing to do with that.”

And then, before he could protest again, she laid her lips on his in a kiss that hopefully communicated all of that truth in the most elemental way possible.