Page 63 of California Dreaming

The thought was as thrilling as it was frightening. All afternoon, while she spent her free time painting at her usual spot on the beach, she hadn’t managed to sustain her usual concentration. Her memories of last night and this morning were so distracting. Her mind kept returning to his strong hands and to how naturally he’d found her most sensitive parts, caressing and worshipping them.

But great sex with Arch wasn’t entirely responsible for her distraction, even if it was hands down the best sex of her life. Honestly, though she’d had a massive crush on the movie-star version of him before they’d ever met, the fact that he was a movie star wasn’t exactly a plus in her mental pro-versus-con columns. What was a plus, however, was the flesh-and-blood man with a family who kept him grounded. And who welcomed her into their home.

Breakfast had been proof of how well she fit into his family. All the worry about how different their lives were faded into the background as long as she was surrounded by the noisy but loving Davenports. However, as soon as she was away from them, any future with Arch felt impossible.

She was well and truly torn.

And that did not make for a good mindset in which to paint.

After working slowly and without much progress for a couple of hours, she decided to call it a day and return home to Arch. He needed more time to learn his lines, but she wasn’t about to let him slack off on his exercises. Not when he was so close to making a full—and super quick—recovery.

She parked, then called a hello as she entered the hallway, carrying her backpack and easel. Despite the medley of conflicting emotions she’d had all afternoon, her heart leaped with anticipation at seeing Arch.

She needed to get a grip. It had been, what, a couple of hours since they’d last seen each other? Yet here she was simpering like a teenager at the mere image of him waiting for her on the couch, script in hand.

As she headed up the stairs to wash her brushes, put away her backpack, and freshen up, she was surprised to bump into Arch coming down.

He flashed her that killer grin. “Hello, you.”

“Hi there, yourself,” she replied. “What are you doing up on the second floor? I was expecting you’d have your head buried in your script.”

“I was, but for some reason I found it harder to concentrate today than usual.” Arch shrugged, holding on to the banister. “So I gave up and went to watch the surfers on the beach through the telescope.”

Something about his glib explanation felt forced. But it was his house, so why shouldn’t he wander it at will?

Well, at least they were both equally distracted today. She was glad to know that it wasn’t only her. “Me too,” she said softly.

Arch took her backpack and easel and set them on the stair above her, brushed the hair from her face, and then kissed her. His passion took her breath away, and she felt herself yield to his embrace.

How could one man’s lips—not to mention his hands and every other inch of his incredible body—make her feel so darned good?

“It might sound crazy,” he said, drawing back, “but I missed you while you were painting.”

Tessa smiled, feeling her heart flutter. In a half whisper, she said, “I missed you too,” and kissed him again.

Their embrace was deep and heated, and it took all of her willpower not to undress him right there, halfway up the stairs.

When they finally pulled apart, she looked into his soulful eyes. “Did it bother you?” she asked, the thought only just occurring to her. “Watching people surf when you can’t join them?”

Arch stroked her chin with his thumb. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little jealous. But every day, my leg feels stronger. I’m healing, and it’s all down to you.”

“Thank you for saying that, but we both know that you’ve been a surprisingly excellent patient,” she said. “I can’t take all the credit. You work hard, and you’re determined, and you have a positive outlook. That’s why you’re getting better so quickly.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, it dawned on Tessa that Arch was healing at a remarkable rate. Just watching him navigate the stairs and how easily he had lifted her backpack—not to mention her body last night—was proof of how well he was doing with the walking boot.

It felt like a punch to the gut to realize that he wasn’t going to need her much longer. Her heart was going to break when that day came, regardless of how sweet he’d be about letting her go.

Though her heart already felt like it was breaking from nothing more than the thought of a future without Arch, she pulled herself together. “But that doesn’t mean you can start slacking. It’s time for your afternoon exercises,” she said.

“Are you sure you don’t want to swap exercises for sex?” he suggested. “I’ve read that it’s surprisingly aerobic.”

Of course she wanted that! She was desperate to rip off his clothes right there and then. But she couldn’t put her own desires ahead of his recovery. “Do all your exercises first. Then we’ll see if you’ve got enough energy left.”

Arch gave her a wicked smile. “Don’t you worry, I’ll have plenty of energy left.”

He waited for her while she put her kit away. When she followed him down the stairs, she saw how well he navigated each step. She had to make a choice. She could either borrow worries about that day in the future when she and Arch parted. Or she could enjoy every minute that she had with him and accept that when this job was over, life would return to normal.

Once she was gone, this would all feel like the dream that it was. She’d move on to another client; Arch would go off to shoot his new movie, and it would likely propel him to even greater fame than he had now. His real life was in Hollywood. Not here in Carmel with her. Of course they would part ways, no matter how well she got on with his family or how at home she felt here.

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