BECKY
　　The secluded cabin was stunning, straight from a storybook. It was tucked away in a grove, surrounded by an impenetrable screen of trees—nobody casually passing by could possibly notice its presence.
　　It was bigger than it looked, too. Once inside, she wandered from to room, slack-jawed. It was a bit too much for Becky’s taste, but she felt free. Like she could breathe.
　　She switched her phone off after talking to Mervyn and reassuring him that everything was okay.
　　Since the photo had made its rounds, she and her team had been putting out fires in everydirection. Especially the Paul Weaver one, but luckily for her, none of their speculations lingered toward the owner of the Boathouse. She didn’t know what she would have done without Cass, Mona, and Mervyn.
　　She tossed her bag on the bed in the room Jack said would be hers. Through the window, stately conifers teased her with glimpses of the lake flashing through its needles. She could have stood there and admired that view all day.
　　For their first proper meal, Jack barbecued. They shared a magnificent evening filled with laughter.
　　Chloë’s bad mood lifted at last, and she participated in the lighthearted banter with areal smile.
　　It lifted Becky’s spirits to see the twins getting along. For once, they weren’t fighting.
　　Jack was amazing with them. He didn’t cling to Becky in front of her kids like she’d feared he would.
　　He just seemed increasingly perfect.
　　She was still waiting for some major character flaw to emerge, so she could relax and move on to getting to know the rest of him. So far, nothing about him seemed imperfect.
　　Perhaps it was his reclusiveness. He was intensely private, adamant that Becky shouldn’t meet his family, and was spooked by the press. Maybe that was his flaw.
　　They ended the evening with mugs filled with divine sugar-free, vegan cocoa.
　　On her way to bed, she gave him a chaste goodnight kiss and headed upstairs. He’d be sleeping downstairs. She didn’t think it was prudent to share a bedroom with him with her kids right down the hallway. They’d just met him.
　　Putting several walls between them did nothing to stop the yearning for him.
　　She woke in the wee hours to the mattress shifting under a heavy weight. Opening her eyes, she looked up at Jack staring down at her.
　　“Shhh,” he whispered and kissed her. “Finally. Hello, sweetheart.”
　　She giggled softly into the nape of his neck. “Sorry, they’ve already reached that agewhere they don’t need tutorials about kissing and hugging.”
　　“Don’t worry. You have amazing kids.”
　　“Wait until this honeymoon phase is over,” she whispered.
　　“No, they’re fantastic, really. Well-mannered, intelligent, and just overall not badkids.”
　　“Thanks to Phil and Cass.”
　　“Oh, stop it. They have a wonderful mother, too.” He kissed her again, claiming her mouth with his.
　　He slid into her—they’d both tested clean and agreed to stop using condoms—and groaned into her mouth at the feel of her heat around him.
　　His slow, torturous pace drove her to the peak. She clamped her mouth to his neck to stifle her moans, her breath expelling loudly through her nose. They climaxed together,then collapsed in an exhausted heap, their limbs entangled.
　　Wearily, Jack set the alarm on his wristwatch before pulling her close into his body. They drifted off to sleep.
　　When she woke later that morning, the space next to her was empty.
　　She got up, showered, and dressed, then headed downstairs, where she was greeted by a full-on food fight.
　　“What the hell is going on here?” she gaped at all four of them.
　　Jack was covered with pancake batter. Chloë’s mouth and face was full of it as well.
　　“Sorry, Mom.” Zach came up, grabbed her, and smeared pancake batter all over her face and hair.
　　She shrieked and thrashed to escape Zach’s sticky fingers. The others giggled with glee. The food fight continued, and Becky made sure to exact sweet revenge.
　　At length, they wore themselves out. Like a team—and without even talking about it—everyone cleaned up the mess in the kitchen and headed off to shower and change. Jack prepared a new breakfast.
　　That afternoon, Jack produced two pieces of paper: state sport fishing licenses in Zach’s and Chloë’s names. Zach eagerly signed on, but Chloë demurred.
　　So, while the boys went fishing, the ladies sunbathed on the dock. The altitude gave thebreeze a bite even in the dead of summer, but at the peak of the day, it was perfect.
　　“He’s cool, Mom. You should marry him.”
　　“Chloë,” Becky said exasperatedly. “You should have gone fishing with them.”
　　“I’m not a guy.”
　　“Girls can fish too, you know. I happened to be skilled at it when I was younger. Grandpa, rest his soul, used to take me fishing all the time. You might enjoy it.”
　　“It’s not for me.”
　　“You haven’t even tried it yet, honey.”
　　“I don’t have to try it.” She shuddered. “Fish stink. We’re not going to eat what they catch, right?”
　　“You are a spoiled brat, you know?”
　　“Am not. I just don’t like eating things that are freshly caught.”
　　“Not even if Jack prepares it?” Cass queried.
　　“Not even then.”
　　That statement brought about laughter.
　　For the first time in a very long time, Becky thought about her dad. Her mother died whenshe was seventeen from cancer, so it had been just her and her father. No siblings, just a lot of cousins that she hadn’t spoken to in a long time.
　　Phil’s parents were still alive, and one of the calls she’d had to answer when the photo of the new man filled the media. She assured them that they were serious, and having shared that, hoped it wouldn’t backfire in her face. They really seemed happy for her and would be coming for a visit around Christmas time.
　　She really missed her mom though, and Fiona—Jack’s mother—had reminded her a lot of her own mother. She would’ve been so proud of Becky, or she hoped she would’ve been.
　　The boys returned at around five, when the temperature began plunging along with the sun.
　　They were both sunburned. Becky began upbraiding them both for not reapplying sunscreen.
　　Zach held up a hand. “Mom, chill.”
　　“Okay…your body, your pain.” Becky put up hands and shrugged in resignation.
　　Jack hefted a bucket that contained an impressive number of fish. “We caught dinner,” he announced over his shoulder, then trudged along the trail back toward the cabin.
　　“I am not going to eat that tonight,” Chloë announced, wrinkling her nose. Despite this, she followed close on his heels.
　　She couldn’t hear if Jack replied to her daughter’s statement, but she did hear Chloë offering to help.
　　Cass flashed a thousand-watt smile and wandered inside after them, after having waited a few beats—giving the two of them the tiniest amount of space. Her instincts about thekids’ needs were always right on target.
　　Zach took a deep breath, then faced his mother.
　　Becky went on alert. “Honey, what’s wrong?” she asked, concerned at her son’s sudden seriousness. His eyes, even now beginning to film over with tears, held an expression she’d never seen. Raw and open, like he was looking straight into her soul.
　　“Don’t screw this up, Mom,” he begged.
　　“Sweetheart?”
　　He wiped away a tear. “Dad would’ve liked him a lot. I didn’t miss him so much today.”
　　She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Oh, no. This what she had been trying to avoid, why she’d wanted to wait to introduce Jack. If they split up, she’d not only have her own heartache to deal with, but her children’s, too.
　　“I’ll try my best.”
　　“Okay.” He sniffled, smiled, and went inside, leaving her thunderstruck on the trail.
　　What the hell happened on that little fishing expedition?
　　Jack refused to divulge what had transpired on the boat. He just said they’d gotten to know each other. She decided to drop it and focus on enjoying the precious little time they had left together.
　　He snuck into her room at some ungodly hour. This time, he wasn’t gentle. He clamped a hand over her mouth and slammed into her in long, deep thrusts.
　　Each time they had sex, it was better and more mind-blowing How could she go back to not having him in her bed every night?
　　When she woke, dappled sunlight filtered through the curtains. His spot was vacant. Groaning, she buried her face in her pillow. She wanted to wake wrapped up in him.
　　They only had time for breakfast before they had to begin the long trek back.
　　Far too soon, they were in the SUV, Jack entertaining them with impressions from the driver’s seat. And far too soon, they were pulling into the gated parking area of the hotel in Reno. Per their plan, he pulled up to the side entrance.
　　Cass clapped her hands and heartily urged the twins to gather their things and give Jackthe quickest of goodbyes before dashing into the hotel.
　　After the door swung shut behind the three of them, Becky leaned over kissed Jack with fervor. Then Jack drove around to the back of the hotel, where she planned to slip in unnoticed.
　　He pulled her onto his lap, the steering wheel jutting into her lower back.
　　“When am I seeing you again?” His words were muffled.
　　“Next weekend.”
　　“Perfect,” he answered without hesitation.
　　“I’m off to Vancouver the week after for production. Promise me you’ll come.”
　　“I will always come, sweetheart,” he said with a lascivious leer.
　　She slapped him playfully and said with feigned primness, “You, sir, are a pervert. Do you know that?”
　　“I am, in fact, quite aware of that.” He kissed her again.
　　They were interrupted by the ringing of her phone. Both sighed. She glanced at the screen. “It’s Mervyn. I’ll see you Friday?”
　　“You bet that sweet ass of yours.” He kissed her quickly.
　　She climbed back over to the passenger seat and hopped out of the car as Mervyn opened the door.
　　Flipping her hood over her head, she trotted toward the entrance as Jack drove off.
　　She hated not being able to travel with him, not being able to have a normal relationship with him.
　　“You guys have fun?” Mervyn asked.
　　“Yes, we did. And we had absolutely no intrusions. I guess it’s safe to say Jack really knows how to sneak around,” she whispered.
　　Shrugging, Mervyn led her toward the elevator. “Who knew that hobo manwas actually that smart?”
　　She giggled. “Oh, I forgot. I’m about a quarter of the way through the new novel.”
　　“Oh, I cannot wait to read this one, babe.” He was practically drooling. “Is it aboutJack?”
　　“More or less. I haven’t quite figured out the main plot yet.”
　　“It will come to you,” he said with great confidence. “It always does.”
　　She smiled.
　　She couldn’t wait to type the ending, and hoped that her character’s path would mirrorher own and share the same ending. A happy one.
　　The following weekend, she went to New York again. They’d had a few close encounters, where Jack had to leave her a few times, or risk his identity spilling to the world.
　　Tabloids and Twitter feeds were filled with photos of them, the tacky kind with a superimposed red circle and bold letters demanding, “Who is he?” So far, no one had managed to get a shot with Jack’s face.
　　He turned out to be a mastermind at keeping his identity a secret.
　　“Be honest,” she teased him. “Is your name really Peter Parker? Bruce Wayne, maybe?”
　　The public was convinced that she was dating Paul Weaver. They’d been badgering him fora statement nonstop. To her astonishment, he’d only had pleasant things to say about her. When asked about the status of their relationship, his reply was consistent—“No comment.” Which suited her just fine.
　　Before she knew it, she was on her way to Vancouver to slide into her role as executive producer for her latest page-to-screen adaptation.
　　Jack visited, as promised. She was glad that security was already so tight on location.
　　Unsurprisingly, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and the sex was hotter than ever.
　　Her hotel room would never be the same again. Afterward, everywhere she looked, she saw images of them fucking like there was no tomorrow.
　　Every time they had to part was heart-wrenching.
　　As before, a flurry of photos surfaced, but Jack was crafty. His face was always behind a tree or looking the other way.
　　She worried about how things would go if someone identified him.
　　On one occasion, someone snagged a photo of her kissing her mystery man at the same time Paul was co-hosting a charity gala. People put two and two together and the rumor that she was dating Paul crashed and burned.
　　So, the celebrity gossip blogs and entertainment news beats dove back into a frenzied guessing game.
　　She wished some sudden drama would befall an A-list celeb. Something fresh for the celebrity gossip crowd to latch onto. Didn’t anyone famous have anything interesting going on? Marriages, divorces, pregnancies, infidelity…anything?
　　The instant this thought took shape in her mind, though, she regretted it. She wouldn’twish this on anyone. How ugly, her impulse to shunt her curse onto someone else. Who knew which pop singers, movie stars, and rock legends suffered from their own fame?
　　Her own struggle was mostly hidden from outsiders. If she could be miserable yet invisible, how many others shared her plight behind the scenes, unbeknownst to the world?
　　The thought made her shudder. She’d better focus on her own problems for now.
　　The point was this—the entire English-speaking world wanted to know who had claimed the throne, who was the king to her queen.
　　The general public didn’t give a flying rat’s ass about her privacy. They’d keep scratching at the surface until they finally uncovered all her secrets.
　　She hated it.
　　One night, while she was on the phone with him, she announced, “Um, I have a surprise for you.”
　　“Does it have anything to do with you dressed in nothing but a trench coat and standing outside the Boathouse?”
　　She laughed. “I wish. No. I’ve been selected as a keynote speaker for an upcoming bookfestival in Sydney. I thought I could take you with me. You can see your brother.”
　　He chuckled. “When?”
　　“A month from now.”
　　“Not going to work, sweetheart.”
　　Her mood dropped. “Why not?”
　　“My brother will be here.”
　　“Damn. My timing really sucks.”
　　“Yeah, he arrives in four weeks. He cannot wait to meet you.”
　　“So, I get to meet him, but not your mother?”
　　In the background, she heard the distinct sound of a knife on a wooden cutting board. “I’m considering introducing you to that crazy lady.”
　　“Jack, she is your mother.”
　　“Yeah, I know. But she’s a rabid fan, Becks. She is obsessed with finding out who the king to your queen is,” he said in a disgusted tone.
　　“And what will mother dearest do when she discovers he’s her naughty little boy?”
　　He snorted. “Kill me, most likely, for hiding you away from her claws.”
　　“She isn’t a dragon. I met her, remember?”
　　The chopping sound ceased. “That was all a façade.”
　　“Jack, seriously.” She scuffed the floor with her shoe absently. “Sometimes, I feel like you don’t want me to meet her.”
　　“Yeah, I really don’t.”
　　She chuckled at the way he said it.
　　“Fine, whenever you are ready.”
　　They ended the call a few minutes later, so he could tend to the kitchen, and she could get back to writing.
　　She was enamored with him, could barely believe it had only been two months; it felt like a lifetime. Heck, she was starting to think it was true love, and couldn’t even remember what life had been like before Jack.
　　Her novel was still unfinished. She was lost as to how to end Rachel’s story, but she knew it needed a happy ending for her fans.
　　Becky had woven together the threads of inspiration and it had evolved into a beautiful tapestry, one close to her heart—she’d based Rachel on herself.
　　She pondered the issue of Jack’s family. At least he was willing to introduce her to his brother. That had to be a good sign; from what she gathered, his brother was closer to him than anyone else in the world. He was lucky, as few siblings shared a bond like that—not even twins like her two brats.
　　Her thoughts turned to Adrian. Would he be as handsome as Jack, or his opposite? She’d spent a lot of time wondering about his family, curious about what his father and his other two sisters looked like, too, but there had been no photos in the cabin. She got the feeling his father was just as private as he was.
　　She cursed herself for allowing her mind to wander to Jack’s family. Every time they came up, she doubted whether Jack’s feelings for her were as profound as her own. Surely, if he felt the same way, he’d want to introduce her to them, wouldn’t he?
　　Was she fooling herself?
　　Maybe she wasn’t his special someone after all.