Just a Little Camera Shy: A Scripted for Love Novel Read online

  Just a Little Camera Shy

  A Scripted for Love novel

  MK Meredith

  Contents

  Praise for MK Meredith

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 by MK Meredith. All rights reserved,

  including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  MK Meredith

  P.O. Box 1724

  Ashburn, VA 20146

  Visit my website at www.mkmeredith.com.

  Original edit by Kate Brauning

  Cover design by Kerrie Legend

  Cover art stock from Getty

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Second Edition Dec 2018

  Praise for MK Meredith

  “Smart and sexy with plenty of heartfelt moments, Meredith writes romance that is big enough for the big screen.”

  ~ Marina Adair, #1 national bestseller of Summer in Napa

  “5 stars. This author puts herself heart and soul into the story and you will be living it not just reading it.”

  ~ Pamela Johnson, friend & reader. RIP

  “5 stars. I loved every word. I laughed out loud and shed a few tears…thank you for this incredibly entertaining book. I am a fan forever.”

  ~ Carrie D. Amazon Customer

  To all our mothers.

  To those still with us and those who mother us from the other side. Your love has forever changed us.

  To my mother, Karen Kauffman, who was taken too soon from breast cancer: if I’m half the mother you were, my babies are the luckiest in the world.

  To my momma, Kathy Krans, who is a fellow survivor: since the day we met, your strength and passion to really live inspires me.

  And to women everywhere who’ve been touched by breast cancer, you are strong, you are brave, and you are beautiful.

  Chapter 1

  When A-list Hollywood actors got married, the weddings alone were enough to make a girl jealous, but the really big deal was the receptions. Addison Dekker swayed to the music, losing herself in the sultry tunes and decadent atmosphere only found with the celebrity elite. Rich Versace silk fabrics draped the space while Baccarat crystal reflected light like stars in the night sky. Maybe this was what Chris Hemsworth’s wedding would look like. She’d never know. Hollywood wouldn’t know her from the gum she’d scraped from her shoe on the way in. Just in case, she gave a quick check to the bottom of her heels.

  Who the hell marries the hottest A-list movie actor, anyway? Oh yeah, that would be her sister, Sam. If it was anyone else getting married to one of the biggest actors in Hollywood, she’d want to at least try to hate her, but her sister had been through so much over the last couple of years that she deserved this happy ending.

  Addi’s plan was to follow in her sister’s footsteps. Not the celebrity husband, though it would hardly be something to complain about, but rather making her life one she wanted to live instead of the one she was expected to. She was on track toward publishing. Or at least she hoped so. After chasing the “‘yes” for years now, the yearning was exhausting.

  This would be her year—it had to be, or she was sunk.

  She was running out of time.

  The clinking of silverware seemed to magnify the bleakness of her situation.

  A slight hint of cologne warned her of company before she turned around, and she froze on her inhale. Distraction didn’t even begin to describe Roque Gallagher. He was like a modern day Rock Hudson but grittier, bigger, and with a fancier spelling to his name. He was the nephew of Martin and Raquel Gallagher—the Mother and Father of Malibu. The man was so good-looking, he could turn a straight man gay. And if memory served—and boy did it serve well—he used to model underwear.

  Warm fingers slid against hers in a light grip. “I thought it was about time I met the infamous little Dekker sister.” His deep voice skated down her spine, then a chill raced back up.

  Forcing back the small shiver at the base of her hairline that was surely fueled by anger, she gently tugged her hand until he released her. She looked him over, taking in his broad shoulders under the light gray suit, the top few buttons opened, no tie. No creases or wrinkles, no lines out of place. His black, wavy hair brushed back with trimmed sideburns. A very short, groomed shadow of a mustache and goatee. Barely there, just enough to tease, to make you want to rub your skin against it. Elegant, but casual with an air of approachability.

  Yeah, right. There was nothing approachable about the intense look of his too-blue eyes.

  She crossed her arms. “No one infamous here.” The rumors about her were annoying, almost as much as the squealing laughter let loose from a neighboring conversation.

  If she were honest, she’d admit she was most annoyed with herself. Why she cared what other people might think was a mystery. Saying what was on her mind should not equal infamous. Nor should leaving a lucrative career in corporate America to be a writer, or having her words stolen, but apparently other people had different ideas. And she’d already heard most of them.

  Now maybe the time she’d spent in jail for streaking the college football game supported the claims, or perhaps when she’d hitchhiked to Nevada for the Burning Man Festival only to get mugged and have to call her dad to come pick her up—but that time in her life had long passed.

  “Aww, come on now. I heard you once sang onstage at a wedding you weren’t invited to.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course I was invited. Onstage at least.”

  “Let me take you to dinner and see for myself.”

  Oh, she could spot his type with a blindfold on. Life came easy to this guy. The Gallagher name assured his every whim was handed to him on a platinum platter. Not to mention, they were thieves of the worst kind.

  He was nothing but very expensive trouble. And by the looks of him, he was all about being in control and put together—something she’d never quite mastered.

  Usually, she welcomed trouble that looked like him. But right now, she couldn’t afford it. And her last relationship had proved that opposites don’t actually attract.

  Keeping her voice low, she said, “I appreciate the offer, but this infamous lady is going to have to pass. Thanks, though.” Turning back to watch the bride and groom dance with their guests, she grabbed a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter. A little help to hold on to her resolve.

  Roque tilted his head with an easy smile. Any woman with a pulse would want to say yes, which made his persistence all the more difficult. She swallowed the sigh threatening to spill from her lips. “Look.”

&nb
sp; He put up his hand. “I only asked you to dinner. There’s this little café I know.” The small upturn of his lips was sincere. What was he playing at?

  Warning bells clanged in her head. Having dinner with him would be a mistake, and she’d made too many of those lately. Right now, she needed to stay in and focus, not go out and get frisky. She looked him over, resisting an even bigger sigh. What a shame he was a crook. “And I said no. But thank you.”

  He studied her for a beat as they stood amidst the other guests. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed. I thought you were the life of the party.”

  And she was. Usually. But life had handed her some challenges lately, and she needed her wits about her to meet them head-on. The time had come for her to grow up and figure out a way to gather up the pieces of her latest disaster without her entire family—and their friends—finding out.

  Needing to knock him off kilter a bit, ruffle his fine feathers, she smiled, a slow uplift to the corners of her lips. Anyone who knew her would recognize the warning. “Life of the party, huh?” She stepped closer. “Are you coming on to me?”

  Shocking people was so much fun. She reached out her hand and placed her fingertips at his Adam’s apple, the heat of his skin burning into her sensitive pads, and then slid them down his chest and over the front of his shirt to his sternum.

  She tapped twice, then boldly held his gaze as she trailed her finger lower over the solid plane of his abs. Yum. Surely he’d stop her any minute. Tilting her head, she bit her lip and looked up at him from beneath her lashes. He did say she was infamous. Her heart slammed in her chest. Any moment he’d stop her, shocked and affronted.

  And she’d win. And he’d walk away so she could breathe again.

  Without warning, he shot his hand around her waist and yanked her tight against him, the movement so abrupt her hair fell from its pins. The hard lines of his body pressed against her, and something warm and delicious spread through her limbs.

  “Make no mistake, Miss Dekker. When I come on to you, you won’t have to ask.” He held her gaze, and the delicious scent of him wafted about, clouding her senses.

  Well, that had blown up in her face. Blinking rapidly, she stepped back from his embrace, obviously having lost that little battle. She had to nip this in the bud as much as she’d like to stay and get lost in such a distraction.

  “Okay, now it’s not no, but hell no.” She hated being mean, hated how it felt, but hated more when people wouldn’t listen when she talked. And the pull to stay, along with her already-pressing stress, left her with very little patience. Handing a passing waiter her empty glass, she spun on her heel and went in search of her friend Chase.

  Chase listened to and believed in her, even if Addi could make chaos out of a straight line. She didn’t cause disorder on purpose, but it sure had an easy time finding her. Sliding in next to Chase among a group of ladies, she snuck a peek back at Roque. As expected, he’d moved on without a hitch, laughing with Martin Gallagher Jr. as if he hadn’t just faced rejection—and he probably couldn’t recognize it when he did.

  Grabbing a canapé from a passing waiter, she popped the savory morsel into her mouth and chewed while she watched Roque out of the corner of her eyes. His voice carried over the low murmur of the surrounding crowd.

  He had a good laugh. She swallowed, and her own lips twitched up a bit at the deep sound. It moved through his whole body and into hers. She wondered what it would have been like to go to dinner with him. But with the mess her life was in, she couldn’t afford it. Hell, she couldn’t afford anything at this moment.

  The canapé turned over in her stomach.

  Not even her home.

  Addi dropped her forehead to the table, unable to breathe as tears burned the back of her lids. “Oh my God, They’re going to kill me. Damn. Damn. Damn.”

  After a long night tossing and turning, resisting dreams filled with blue eyes and easy smiles, she didn’t know if she had it in her to face the letter on the table. Such bad news seemed so much worse the morning after a fairy-tale wedding. And it so clearly wasn’t her fairy tale. She was the baby sister, the pampered, protected sister, the funny sidekick sister—not the one who got Prince Charming.

  Her stomach churned. What in the hell am I going to do? This can’t happen. With trembling hands, she shoved back from the table and stared at the document lying in front of her as if it were ready to strike, more threatening than a rattlesnake. Her independence, her life, was ruined with this one sheet of paper.

  The doorbell shrieked and Addi jumped. “Fuck.” The scare pushed her already frayed nerves over the edge, and she dropped her head to her hands, choking back angry tears. She’d been meaning to fix the damn doorbell since she’d moved into her late Aunt Addi’s Malibu bungalow. Half deaf, her aunt had installed a doorbell as loud as a fire alarm. Now every time someone rang the bell, Addi lost a life and part of her hearing. She’d be joining her aunt on the other side soon if this kept up.

  Trying to wipe away any signs of her tears, she finally made her way to the door, then wrenched it open. An audible gasp escaped her trembling lips, and she stepped back at the sight of her guest. “You.”

  Roque Gallagher’s eyes flickered wide for a beat, but his expression never wavered. He yanked a sheet of paper from his portfolio, then looked from it to the address numbers nailed above her door.

  She shook her head and willed her heart to quit slamming in her chest. It only raced from the shock of seeing him on her doorstep, she was sure of it.

  “No is no, buddy. I’m calling the police.” Why did all the heart-stoppingly good-looking men always turn out to be so full of themselves? Addi stepped back to slam the door in his drop-dead gorgeous face. Such a shame, really.

  Roque put his hand out. “I’m sorry. I had no idea this was your home.” He lifted the sheet of paper for her to see, and she stepped out onto the porch for a closer look. “Public records list Addison Montgomery.”

  “Well, public records are wrong. The house is mine.”

  Looking her over from head to toe, he paused. “Are you okay?”

  The concern on his face almost did her in. She sniffed, forcing back the tears that wanted to erupt. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? I can call someone if you want.”

  A warm hand dropped to her shoulder, and she shied away before she cracked. “I said I’m fine.” She didn’t mean to snap, but if she had any hope of getting out of this situation with a shred of dignity, he needed to leave immediately. “Listen, Mr. I’m-Irresistible—” She tried for sarcasm, but it fell short with tears thickening her throat.

  “Oh, so you do think I’m irresistible? I didn’t get that impression last night.” His tone was gentle like he was trying to make her smile. He cracked the knuckles of his free hand with his thumb, one finger at a time, filling the silence.

  “I have a lot going on. Sorry for being so rude. But now really isn’t a good time.” She pulled her eyes from his hands to his face.

  He narrowed his baby blues, and her heart tripped. “I’ll get out of your hair, but I have a proposition for the owner of this house.”

  She didn’t know what kind of proposition he could possibly have, but she knew Roque was in film production. The production studio, in fact, that had stolen her manuscript and made it into a movie.

  Apparently, predation was in the family, in the blood. She could practically smell the drive radiating from his perfect, poreless skin as he stood, watching her warily. She didn’t need his concern, she needed a miracle.

  “What you want to steal my home, too?”

  He raised a brow as his lips twisted in confusion. “I want to rent your place for my film.”

  Surprise fanned her interest, but reality snuffed it out. She had an idea of the going rental rate for films. It would help, but it wouldn’t be enough to solve her problem. Besides, moving out would cost her, eating up the profit she’d make from the rent. Because of the loan modification denial she’d just go
tten, she only had thirty days to pay the lump sum she owed. And that was just the beginning of her problem. “I’m not interested, but thank you.” She stepped back inside to close the door.

  “I don’t think you understand.”

  Addi swung around. “You know the name Roque suits you; your head must be as hard as one. It’s time for you to go.” She couldn’t take any more. Breaking down in front of the man who helped smash her dreams wouldn’t do anything but validate everyone’s perception of her already.

  “I don’t think so. Like I said, I have a proposition. Give me two minutes, then I’ll go.”

  Putting her hands on her hips, she pulled in a breath. She could hold it together for two more minutes. Listening to him was probably the quickest way to get rid of him. “Two minutes.”

  She led him inside, across the wide open room and into the kitchen. All of the natural light and the open concept of the main floor made her cozy home seem much bigger. “I need coffee.”

  Smiling, he made his way over to the table and sat down, tapping his finger against the plate of chocolate éclairs and tall glass of milk. “Ahhhh, a good balanced breakfast.”

  Addi made a face, snatched her mail off the table and moved the evidence of her meal to the counter, then turned, arms once again crossed over her chest like a warrior’s shield. “I’m sorry. I’m not interested in renting my house.”