Tessa went to the big window. The view really was breathtaking. The golden beach, kids making sandcastles, teens catching the last of the sun. She watched the walkers and runners, dogs greeting one another and chasing after balls, surfers riding the waves on the horizon. It was truly idyllic. She couldn’t believe that this was where she was going to wake up each morning.
She tore her eyes away from the scene, and her gaze fell on the one bag she’d yet to touch. Although she was alone, she surreptitiously hauled the backpack into the open room that was set up like a library, with a telescope pointed out the huge picture window. She unzipped it cautiously, her heart hammering in that familiar way. Nothing gave her the kind of sweet anticipation that taping a fresh sheet of toothy watercolor paper to the easel and filling her pans with paint provided. She pulled out a drop cloth to protect the floor from any drips. She set up by the window and then admired the scene before her.
When Arch was a bit stronger, she’d go outside to paint, but today she wanted to stay within calling range in case he needed her.
Somehow she knew that he would respect her privacy. Besides, it would be really difficult for him to get up the stairs without her help. If he needed something, he would call. Which meant she could finally relax and do her favorite thing in the world.
First, she mixed her paints, trying to re-create the golden tones of the sand below. The blank paper didn’t intimidate her. Just the opposite. She loved the feeling of a fresh start. The moment where anything could be put on the expanse of white. A whole world of possibilities opened up before her.
The first brushstrokes sent shivers of happiness through her body. She felt most herself while painting, even though she kept it secret from everyone. The very fact it was a secret was a large part of what made it so liberating. She didn’t need to worry about technique or style—or even her color palette—because no one would ever see the painting.
It was just for her.
Creating art was a compulsion, not a choice. It was how she made sense of the world and processed her emotions. It was a totally personal enterprise, and as far as she was concerned, it would always stay that way.
Her husband had always said that she had no talent and that her paintings were amateurish, but she’d painted anyway in secret. It was her art that had helped her through the difficult times when he was so ill and demanding. No patient she’d had since had been as demanding… or as angry. It was as though he’d blamed Tessa for his illness.
Painting had been a calming influence on her and a way of getting all her emotions out.
Unfortunately, his words still rang in her ears: You might have gotten the love for painting, but you sure as hell didn’t get the talent to go with it.
But as the paintbrush began to guide her movements, she allowed herself to question whether Lewis had been right. There was a part of her, way down deep inside, that wondered if there was more to her work than he had realized. Sometimes she looked at her paintings and felt proud of the work that had come out of her, unguided by any training or schooling. There was something truthful in the art she made. Put most simply, it was the way she uniquely saw the world.
But those proud moments never lasted long, not when her husband’s harsh words still rang in her ears and down into her heart too. He might have died, but she had a feeling his cruel words about her passion for creating art never would.
She thought now of the artwork Arch had so informally hanging in his house. There was the gorgeous Kalinda Lawles they’d talked about, of course. But she was sure she’d also spotted an original Chagall in the downstairs guest room and a Georgia O’Keeffe above the stairs. And she hardly dared believe that the small, square canvas hanging in the living room might be a Picasso… could it?
Of course, she’d never be that good—those artists were true masters of the craft—but Tessa had made her peace with her private painting a long time ago. At least, that’s what she always told herself.
She thought again about Arch’s collection. He had a keen eye, not just for painting, but for all art. There was a blue and pink Tracey Emin neon sign in the hallway, which she’d yet to see lit. Tracey Emin was a British artist, and she was impressed that Arch had her piece on his wall. The handwritten words You Loved Me Like a Distant Star had made her swoon just looking at them.
Considering the telescope by the window, did Arch ever sit up here, looking up at the sky?
He was just downstairs. With a shock, she realized that she had found it peaceful working while he was in the house. She usually preferred to paint alone and never quite felt comfortable hiding her activity in clients’ houses. But this felt different. Something about being here felt comfortable. Like everything was just right.
She checked her watch and was startled to see that two hours had passed since she’d opened her box of paints. She’d been utterly engrossed in her work all this time. Hoping Arch was okay, she took the painting off the easel and found a shelf in the closet where it could lie flat to dry. She washed her brushes and her hands in the en suite so that no trace or smell of paint was visible on her skin and headed downstairs, annoyed with herself for losing track of time.
But when she entered the living room, she saw that Arch hadn’t moved an inch. He was deep into reading the script. She smiled. Like her, he’d been so absorbed in what he was doing he hadn’t noticed the time passing.
“Hi,” she said quietly.
He looked up, surprised. But as soon as he saw her, warmth flooded his face, and his eyes twinkled. Just the way Margaret had teased her about.
He put down the script and replied, “Hi.”
He stared at her, a look that seemed almost to be wonder, and she worried for a moment she had paint on her face or hands or clothes. But no, she was thorough in hiding her time painting. She didn’t make mistakes like that.
“It’s almost seven,” she said. “I think we both may have lost track of time.”
He nodded. “This script is good. Plus, I found that I liked knowing you were in the house, even though you were upstairs.” He flashed her a way-too-sexy grin. “And I didn’t even call you back down here for no reason… though the thought crossed my mind once or twice.”
She found herself laughing, even though he was laying on the charm way too thick. She should be putting up bigger walls to protect herself, but instead, she said, “I’m glad you’re a fast learner. I wouldn’t have taken kindly to a prank call.”
“Oh yeah,” he said. “I’m definitely a fast learner.”
She pretended not to notice the sexy undertones or the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, even as her face grew warm. Instead, she swiftly changed the subject and asked if he was ready for dinner.
That twinkle undiminished, he replied, “Oh yes, I’m hungry.”
For food?
Or for her?
The thought was way too potent for her to linger on. Forcefully shoving all thoughts of being touched by Arch out of her head, she said, “Celebrity Tonight will be on soon. I can bring you a tray so you can stay on your lounger with your leg elevated, if you’d like to watch it.”
“Only if you’re eating in here with me.”
She looked at him. She’d eaten all her meals with Margaret, but Margaret hadn’t made her pulse pound. She needed to keep her distance from Arch if she was going to protect her heart, so she said, “Oh no, I’ll eat in the kitchen.”
He burst into laughter. “You’re joking.” But the laughter soon faded when he saw she was serious. “Come on. You can’t leave me to eat all on my own. It’s… well, it just doesn’t seem right. Especially when we’re going to be living together for so many weeks. I don’t want you to feel like ‘the staff,’ forced to eat in another room.” He paused for a moment. “And also, I’d really like your company.”
Giving him a small smile, she nodded. “Okay, then I’ll eat with you from now on, if I’m not out grocery shopping or taking care of something else for you.”
While she was still determined to keep her emotional distance as much as she could, she understood how lonely it could feel to eat alone. Her husband might have grown more cruel as he’d become more ill, but after his passing, she still remembered how alone she had felt sitting at the table eating dinner by herself.
A few minutes later, she brought in their meals. “This looks amazing,” he said, staring in wonder at his plate. “It’s a work of art.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Not as good as your mom’s oatmeal cookies, I’m sure, but definitely more nutritious.”
Arch nodded and then took the first bite of his food. After he had swallowed, he told her it was delicious. She glowed at the compliment. It was always nice when your cooking was appreciated. Most people didn’t realize how much time and care it took to prepare something that tasted good while also being good for your health.
“So, we know my mom’s specialty is cookies. Now tell me about your mom. Is she more into health food like this?”
Tessa blinked. She never spoke about her family or childhood with clients. It was a wall she’d firmly put up when she started working as a caregiver, and she’d never once allowed it to come down. Not even with Margaret, who’d felt like a kindly aunt.
“I’m self-taught,” she replied, hoping he didn’t realize she hadn’t exactly answered his question. “Once I started learning how healing the right foods could be, I really got into it.”
Arch nodded. “Makes sense. I already feel better after eating a few meals you’ve made.” Arch managed to turn everything he said into a compliment. It was disarming.
For some reason, Lewis’s voice slid into her mind again, criticizing her food. His dinners had no flavor, he’d always complained. Of course, by then he was on so many meds it could have been true, but those last few months had been incredibly difficult as he’d turned his anger about his illness against her.
“So, tell me more about you, Tessa,” Arch said. “You’ve met my entire family. Is yours as big? Or are you an only child?” He put down his fork and trained those sparkling eyes on hers.
She looked away, because holding his gaze—especially when he asked such personal questions—made her stomach flip.
Strangely, it felt like they were on a date. A very intimate first date. Her gaze darted around the room, from the view of the sunset to the gorgeous art, before landing on the enormous TV. She finally remembered he was about to show up on the TV screen.
Thankfully, it was the perfect way to avoid his personal questions. “Your interview will be on in just a moment.” She reached for the remote and hit the On button.
As the screen flickered to life, Arch’s face appeared, smiling and looking relaxed in the very same lounger he was sitting in right now.
“Oh man,” he groaned. “I hate watching myself on TV.” She was surprised, but found it endearing that while millions of people paid to see Archer Davenport on-screen, he clearly didn’t share their pleasure.
It was surreal to be sitting next to the man on the TV. He seemed so much larger than life up there on the screen, all tanned skin and white teeth. He was laughing now, the sound booming from the surround speakers rigged in every corner of the room.
“We really don’t have to watch this,” he said. “In fact, we don’t have to watch anything. I’d much rather get to know you better. We’ll be roomies for the next couple of months after all.”
But Tessa wasn’t about to start talking about herself. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to see how the interview turned out. I could only hear snippets from the kitchen.” She shot him a quick smile and then turned back to the TV.
Roxy’s voice rang out as she asked him about his injury, touching his arm in concern. Tessa felt her own skin prickle. The chemistry between them on the screen was just as palpable as it had seemed to her in real life.
“It was my choice to do the stunt,” TV Arch was saying. “I’ve always enjoyed doing my own stunts, so I’ve had a lot of practice.”
Roxy nodded. “Like in Way Back in the Wilderness.”
Tessa recognized the name of the film that had shot Arch to stardom.
On-screen, Arch nodded back. “Exactly. I’ve had a lot of training, so I’m pretty confident with all kinds of stunts.”
Even though she’d heard quite a lot of the interview, it was interesting to see how they’d edited it down. They’d kept in the part about him being happy working with Smith Sullivan, and there was a clip showing the two of them in cowboy garb, obviously taken on the set of the film before Arch’s accident.
Then the camera was back on Arch and Roxy, who said, “And a little gossipy birdie told me that you’re all set to be the new star of Shock Tactics.”
Tessa shot a look at the real Arch beside her. That was the script he’d been reading? Shock Tactics was the next huge futuristic action-hero movie—the latest in a blockbuster series. She’d read about it online.
Arch was already famous, but this kind of role would propel him to the next level.
On the TV, Arch raised a teasing eyebrow. “It seems like you know more than I do about casting in Hollywood. I don’t believe any announcements have been made.”
Roxy let out her girlish laugh. “One thing I know for sure is that your star is continually on the rise, my friend. Why don’t we take a look at your journey so far?”
The interview cut to a montage of Arch’s career. Tessa recognized footage from his best-known roles as they flashed across the screen, as well as a few smaller movies he’d made. Of course, she had seen every single one.
Watching the short movie clips in order, she could observe how he had grown up. First the teenager who’d melted hearts all over the world and then maturing into the chiseled cheekbones and sun-streaked hair of a man who’d grown only more fascinating with time.
It was overwhelming to see these career highlights, especially sitting beside the real man. But instead of feeling giddy at her unique position, Tessa felt the gap between their worlds grow even bigger. Arch was so normal here at his home, nothing about him suggesting he was any different from the handsome guy who served her cappuccino at the coffee shop. But the truth was that he was different. His life was camera crews and news scoops and red carpet premieres.
She had to remind herself not to get caught up, no matter what.
Arch was not a man she could fall for. Not unless she wanted her heart smashed to smithereens. She’d already been through that with Lewis. No way was she ever going to sign up for it again.
The montage of his career in the movies ended, and the camera cut back to Roxy asking Arch about his rehabilitation routine and caregiver. Tessa’s heart leaped into her mouth. Earlier, she’d heard him make it clear that she wouldn’t be filmed, but what if he’d spoken about her?
She stared at the screen, frozen, waiting for Arch to reply.
“I’ve got great help from the best available. I’m truly grateful. And it means I’ll be able to get back to work very soon.”
She looked at Arch and smiled, appreciating that he hadn’t let her become part of the narrative. It felt like he respected her wishes, and she liked that. Especially given that her husband never had.
And then, despite his leg, he reached across to the couch for the remote and switched off the TV. “Honestly, Tessa,” he said, his solemn expression a far cry from the outgoing and confident man she’d just watched, “I hate seeing myself on-screen. It makes me cringe.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you watch it just because I was curious.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he replied. “I just thought you should know.”
As she nodded to make it clear that she understood, she finally saw that he’d finished his dinner, while she’d been so caught up in watching the interview she’d barely tasted her own. When she got up to clear his tray, he told her to sit down and finish.
“I ate too fast,” he said. “You’re a really good cook. I don’t know how you managed to make something that healthy so delicious. You could make a fortune as a personal chef to Hollywood stars. Everyone I work with is always watching their weight. And all of them—me included—hate feeling like we’re eating rabbit food.”
Tessa never knew what to say when someone complimented her. But she was pleased that he’d noticed she was good at something, even if it was just cooking healthy, tasty food. And he wasn’t wrong. The meal was good.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m glad you’re enjoying my cooking.” And then, because she wasn’t used to being regarded in such a positive light—especially with Arch’s beautiful sea-blue eyes gazing into hers—she quickly changed the subject back to him. Most people were only too happy to talk about themselves, and she was happy to let them.
“Even though you don’t like watching yourself on-screen, I thought the interview went really well.”
He shrugged. “I got the right sound bites in and avoided saying anything I or the studio would regret. All in a day’s work.” Then he turned the spotlight back to her, though she’d yet to answer any of his previous questions. “How did you get started in the caregiving field?”
She couldn’t find a way out of answering no matter how much she racked her brain. “I sort of fell into it.”
Before Arch could ask her any more questions, since she’d finally finished her meal, she took their empty plates and headed for the kitchen. “Time to do the dishes.” She enjoyed clearing up after a meal, resetting the kitchen, getting it spic and span before she made the next thing. “Then I’ll bring out dessert.” It was fresh fruit with a little yogurt, both tasty and healthy.
But as she turned on the faucet, the sound of crutches against tile made her spin around. “What are you doing up?” she exclaimed. “You need to get back into the chair and keep your leg elevated.”
“Not a chance,” he said. “You cooked this delicious meal. The least I can do to say thank you is run some soapy water over a couple of plates. I’m the one in the family who washes the dishes, because I can handle delicate things without breaking them.”
He delivered this in his sexy, playful voice, and though she did her utmost to ignore any possible innuendo, she couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like to have those big, capable hands on her.
As he took the plates and Tessa saw that he was intent on winning the dishwashing battle. “Okay, you can wash. But I’ll dry.”
With that, Arch tossed her a dishtowel, and they embarked on cleaning up the dishes in an amiable silence. As she dried the china plates, Tessa realized this simple act of domestic cooperation was a million times sweeter than any moment with Lewis at home—who would never have done the dishes even if she’d offered him a zillion dollars. And it was made even sweeter because the movie star, with his hands currently in soapy water, was the last person on earth she would have thought would insist on washing up after dinner.
No doubt about it, Archer Davenport continued to surprise her—in really good ways—at every turn. It should have felt great. But she couldn’t help but fear that one day her walls would fall around him. If they did and she let him into her life and heart, there was no possible way that the massive celebrity and the caregiver would make it as a real couple in real life.
Things like that happened only in the movies.