Undercover Heat by Danielle LaBue

like these. No rehearsed lines, no characters to play. Just the two of them co-existing, operating a s a real-life, everyday couple.
    Except now, things were different. Her lines were rehearsed, even if just in her head, and the space they shared was now clouded with regret. She sliced the carrot hard, taking a hunk of her skin along with the vegetable.
    “Damn it!” She dropped the knife into the sink. Ty pushed around her and took her hand in his. “Wh at’d you do?”
    “What does it look like?”
    He turned on the water, adjusting the hot and cold knobs. When the temperature satisfied his own hand, he held hers under the stream. “I think you might live, Lexie Love. It just looks like a flesh wound.”
    She rolled her eyes at her character’s name. “Thanks, Jax, you’re my hero.”
    “Let me put a bandage on it, so it doesn’t get infected.” He winked at her and opened the cabinet next to him. She stared at her small fingers held tightly by his large ones. Gentle and kind at times, but also strong and agile. She gulped, remembering the pleasure they conjured.
    “You know, I snuck in here earlier for a glass of water, and you were in the other room on the phone.” He smoothed the bandage gently over the wound. “Sounded important.”
    “It’s nothing,” she mumbled.
    “You didn’t tell him I was here, did you?”
    He said it like a statement rather than a question, and somehow the presumption irked her. “You’re not always the first topic of discussion, Ty.”
    “When’s he coming home?”
    “Tomorrow or the day after. He’s not sure.”
    He nodded like he understood and turned his attention back to her bandaged hand. “Well, I think you won’t have to amputate, but the carrots are a casualty. You bled all over them.”
    She looked into the sink at the tainted vegetables. “Sorry.”
    “No problem with me. You know I’m a meat and potatoes man.” He picked up the strainer and dumped them into the sink. “How about you sit at the table and look pretty, and I’ll finish up here.”
    “Ty-”
    “Hush, girl,” he said, pulling the dinner plates from the hutch. “You’ve been putting me up in your house. The least I can do is serve you dinner.”
    Carrie sat at the table with a cup of tea, watching Ty move around the kitchen. In minutes, he carved the roast and arranged the fixings on the table. He helped himself to some merlot from the wine closet in the pantry and handed her a glass.
    “Looks good.” Ty rubbed his hands together, before sitting down across from her. His smile made it impossible to protest, when he spooned a healthy helping of mashed potatoes and a thick slice of meat on to her plate. If she didn’t have to worry about the camera’s scrutiny over the next few weeks, she’d eat at least some of it. But the power in defying her hunger was far too liberating. If she couldn’t control the hold Ty still had over her, at least she could take heart in resisting a piece of beef.
    “Carrie Ann, I’m not trying to boss you around, but I really want you to eat a little of that.”
    The yellow pond of butter in the potatoes and the perfectly pink meat looked incredibly appetizing. It made her feel even better when she pushed the plate away. “I can’t.”
    He stared at her, bal ancing his fork in his fingers.
    “And I know what you are thinking but it’s not like that. I just want to lose a few pounds before I go in front of the camera, that’s all.”
    “No.” He took a sip of wine and shook his head. “Absolutely not. I like you the way you are.”
    “I don’t care what you like. I care what I like, and I want to look my best.”
    He stabbed a bite of meat, and shoved it in his mouth. His calm was a practiced tactic she remembered well. When her emotions got to her, he always steadied his. Crisis never rattled him. He was always lucid and methodical. At times the strategy frustrated her, and at this moment she almost resented it.
    Her gaze fell on the Celeb!