Page 7 of Destined For Forever

Just because everyone in Sean’s orbit was coupling up and settling down didn’t mean that he had to chase that life. Dreams and commitment were dangerous. Sean preferred a life without those kinds of pressures, frankly. Easy breezy, that was his approach. Nothing more to worry about than what time to go surfing.

“Thanks,” she said after a pause, dragging her gaze away. “For trying to cheer me up, I mean.”

“Did it work?”

“For a moment there… yeah, it did.”

“Seriously, it’s his loss.” Sean reached out and placed a hand on Lily’s knee. Her eyes snapped up to his and there was something fiery simmering in their depths.

The way she looked at him… Lord. Those warm brown eyes could swallow a man whole. He pulled his hand back, surprised that he was so affected by touching her. Or rather, surprised that he was still so affected by touching her. Because he’d done it once before—his hands on her hips, lips brushing hers, breath puffing over one another’s cheeks.

The first kiss.

It was a staple in every one of her films—always starting with the couple slowly leaning in as if drawn by a magnetic force. He’d often wondered if their kiss had been the inspiration for that signature scene. The delicious anticipation, the dimness of twilight as they’d stood on her doorstep, the scent of her vanilla lip balm.

“Welcome to American Airlines flight 9243 to Boston.” A voice crackled over the plane’s speakers, and the moment between him and Lily was shattered. She leaned away from him and flipped a book open to a page where she’d used a receipt as a bookmark. “We’ll be on our way shortly…”

Sean zoned out the information about the flight as he watched Lily from the corner of his eye. She stared at the page in front of her, eyes unmoving. That haunted look was back, and every cell in his body screamed out with the urge to touch her. To comfort her.

Stop playing with fire.

Unfortunately for Sean, when it came to Lily Dunn, no amount of logic or rational thought seemed to stop him dancing his fingers right over the top of an open flame.

3

An hour into the flight, no less than four people had stopped at row nine to ask Lily about her relationship—and breakup—with Brock Silvers. Sean was stunned. The gall of people, thinking they could pry into her personal life, like she simply existed for their entertainment and wasn’t actually a human being with feelings of her own.

Eventually she excused herself to go to the bathroom, and she stayed in there long enough that Sean knew she was hiding out. But on a small plane, one can’t hog the bathroom forever, and when she returned, she slipped silently back into her seat. There were dark hollows under her eyes, and her mouth had gravitated into a downward slope.

“Is it like this all the time?” he asked, frowning.

She huddled back into the corner of her seat, almost as if the wall might protect her. “Lately, yeah.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Her warm brown gaze slid over to him. “I can’t even go to my regular cafe to write anymore, because now they all know who I am, and I can’t work for more than a minute without someone interrupting me. It sucks. Their iced lattes were the best.”

They’d taken away the woman’s favourite coffee, too? Not cool.

“Can’t you tell them all to…” Sean caught a little kid watching them through the gap of the seats in front and decided to temper his language. “Scram?”

Lily snorted. “Uh yeah, and end up with someone telling a media outlet I’m a horrible person, so Brock seems totally justified in publicly dumping me? Hard pass. Plus, I need people to go see my movies so I can keep working.”

“What about the book you wanted to write?”

Her expression softened. “You remember that?”

How could he forget? Some of his favourite memories of Lily were listening to her talk about the novel she wanted to write one day. She used to sit on a particular brick wall under the shade of the gum trees, always with her nose in a notebook and a pen in her hand. Sometimes he’d knock the ball out of bounds from the basketball court just so he could jog over and say something to get her attention while he retrieved it.

“You were going to write some sweeping love story about a woman who ran a sheep station and the rich man whose fancy car broke down on the country road outside her house.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow. Good memory.”

Maybe it wasn’t wise to admit how much he kept in his head about her. Too late now. “There weren’t many people with dreams like that. It’s memorable.”

“Well, the book is on hold indefinitely. Work has been…” She looked up at the plane’s ceiling. “Crazy. In fact, I had a call last week with a showrunner whose project has been picked up. It’s going to be huge—a comedy with a great female cast, plenty of romance. They’re looking to cast big names for the two leads.”

“And you’re going to be one of the writers?” he asked.

---