He smiled at her as if he’d won a prize, and finally, God, finally, he sank into her body.

Neither of them said much after that, but she didn’t need any words. His eyes said it all. So did his hands as they trailed over her body. She lost herself in the sensations as he heated her from the inside out, completely lost herself, and she realized she was saying his name again, over and over.

Oh yes, she thought; in spite of herself, in spite of her secrets and her fears about what was going to happen when he found out the truth about her, in spite of everything, she was most definitely falling…

And then all the air left her body and she pulled at him, digging her nails into flesh and muscles as he pounded into her.

His mouth was against her ear. “Come for me.”

As if she could do anything but. And as she did indeed come for him, something in her heart shattered along with her body. Pulsing, throbbing, she tightened around him again and again.

And knew she loved him.

She opened her mouth, but blessedly before the words could escape, he kissed her, and as he raced to his own orgasm, she met his every thrust with an almost frightening level of passion.

Afterward, they didn’t move for a long time. His hands were tangled in her hair, his body still deep inside hers, his breathing ragged, his heart pounding against her, and she knew she didn’t want to let go of him.

Ever.

“Maybe we should fight every day,” he said on a low laugh that she could feel reverberate through her.

Ducking her head low, she nodded and surreptitiously wiped her cheeks, not wanting to share how much he’d moved her. Cuddling into him, she took what she desperately needed—just one more minute in his arms.

“Hey,” he said softly, bending his head, speaking low in her ear, his voice tender. “Hey, look at me. You okay?”

She slowly raised her head and met his gaze. He cupped her face and kissed her. Warm. Slow. Sweet.

“Yes,” she said. “Very okay.” At least in the moment. Later she would go back to how absolutely wrong this was, how she shouldn’t have gone there without being up front with him. But for now, right now, she wanted this moment with him.

He held her gaze for a long beat, as if making sure he believed her. Then, not five minutes later, she watched him dress, his body language relaxed. Confident.

Not second-guessing anything.

She wished for half of his self-assuredness. Hell, she’d have settled for a quarter.

He moved to the door and looked back, smiling when he found her staring at him. “I’m going to pull my truck around back,” he said. “You’ll hear me going in and out.”

“For what?”

“I got some plywood. I’m going to make you that hanging dress display in the other room.”

Tell him, she ordered herself. It’s time. It’s past time. You’ve got to tell him that you’re not the real deal. After all, he was honest with you, so be brave and return the favor.

But he was gone, and she…she was a chickenshit.

Over the next half hour, she heard him go in and out numerous times—he was out now. About ten minutes ago he’d said he was running to the hardware store. She was just lighting a few candles and getting herself organized to open when someone knocked on the front door.

She glanced at the clock. Only nine thirty, still a half hour before official opening time. She turned to the door expecting Cole.

Not Cole.

She opened up to Jolyn. Her sister walked into the store and turned in a slow circle. “Wow, look at you, store proprietor. Long way from Hollywood, huh, Sharlyn? You enjoying slumming out here in the sticks?”

Olivia hadn’t forgotten how to act, and she spoke smoothly in spite of the fact that her stomach had hit her toes. “You know I go by Olivia here. And there’s nothing wrong with working for a living. You should try it sometime.”

Jolyn snorted. “What did you think I did as your servant for all those years when you were the princess of Nickelodeon?”

“You were my personal assistant,” Olivia corrected. “And highly paid.”

Another snort. “I was your bitch and we both knew it.” She picked up an antique frame, turned it over in her hand, rolled her eyes at the price, and set it back down. “And for the record? I do work. I work my ass off. I take care of Mom. And speaking of which, I could really use some help in that area, dear sister mine.”

“I think I’ve helped plenty.”

“Is that what you tell people here in Lucky Harbor? Jesus, have you looked around? It’s like a damn postcard. What does everyone think about the fact that they’re housing the original Miley Cyrus in their midst?”

“No one knows.”

Jolyn turned back to her in surprise. It had always been beyond her why Olivia wouldn’t want the world to know who she was. “Don’t tell me you’re still going with the bullshit bio—that you grew up on a Kentucky horse farm.” She took in Olivia’s expression and laughed again. “Unbelievable. You’re standing right in the middle of a windfall, and you haven’t even tried to capitalize on it.” She gestured to the things in the store around her. “Do you have any idea how much more you’d sell if you told people that you starred in the most popular kids’ show to ever hit the air?”

“I’m not telling anyone that, and neither are you.”

Jolyn shook her head. “You’re crazy, you know that, right? But whatever. Just come back to Hollywood with me. It’s where you belong. The best years of our lives were spent there, even with the ups and downs.”