Eight
The parking lot’s disintegrating asphalt crunched beneath Brooke’s sandals as she crossed the yard housing the actors’ trailers.
She headed toward Jillian’s trailer with her cell at her ear, her sister’s groggy voice answering, “Hello.”
“Oh my God, I’m sorry,” Brooke said. “I didn’t realize you’d be sleeping. I’ll call back.”
“No, it’s fine.” Tammy yawned. “I was up with Justin. How’s the she-devil treating you?
“Same as always, but I have a little reprieve. She’s got meetings all morning.” Brooke glanced at her watch. She had at least three more hours before Jillian would be back. “I talked to Justin last night, and he sounded awful. That’s why I was calling. I wanted to find out what the doctors figured out. He told me they were changing his medications? Trying something new? But he couldn’t say what. Told me I had to ask you. And, God, Tammy, he sounded awful. It broke my heart to hear him like that again.”
“I know. It’s a hard transition.”
“Transition to what?”
“That’s the good news. I heard sooner than I expected. He was accepted into the first stage of the children’s program for the bronchial thermoplasty. In anticipation of that, the doctors changed his medication, and that always throws him.”
Brooke’s feet stopped dead in the shadow of the trailer. She gasped, and a balloon of excitement instantly filled her chest. “Oh my God. He got in? Tammy, that’s fantastic.” In the next breath, she said, “Why don’t you sound more excited?”
“Probably because I’m exhausted. And because when I looked over the final documentation for the study, I discovered just how strict the guidelines are. He has to pass every segment of the study to continue on and get all three procedures.”
When Tammy outlined all the hurdles, Brooke’s excitement waned a little too. “You medical people,” she teased. “You’re all Debbie Downers, you know that?”
Tammy laughed again. “More like Realist Rosies. It’s just part of the program—literally. And Justin’s been through so much already. I don’t want to get his hopes up with such high chances that he might not make it through—especially when he has no control over whether he makes it or doesn’t.”
“How frustrating,” Brooke said. “This is supposed to be exciting.”
“It is exciting. They’re only taking fifty kids into this study, so the fact that he got in is all very exciting.”
Brooke smiled and climbed the stairs to the trailer. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
She pulled the door open, took the last two steps into the luxurious space—far nicer than the house Brooke rented with Tammy and Justin—and her gaze immediately drifted to a vase of vivid red roses on the granite counter in the kitchenette.
“Justin told me about the science fair project you helped him figure out,” Tammy said. “Thank you for doing that. You have been such a lifesaver this year. You know when you leave, he’s going to want to move with you, right? I think he’s forgotten which one of us is his mom.”
Brooke almost ignored the flowers but then saw a tall cardboard coffee cup and a pastry bag sitting in front of the crystal vase. Flowers for Jillian were common. Coffee and pastry were not. In fact, that was downright odd.
“Oh, stop. I’m the one who keeps leaving him for all these stupid trips. You’re the one who’s there with him every day. That’s what really matters.”
Brooke tucked the phone between her shoulder and cheek and peeked into the pastry bag. A note blocked the view of the pastry. She pulled it out, and even before she read the note, she recognized the handwriting from the night before when Keaton had scribbled on the Four Seasons tablet.
For an extra sweet start to your day.
Her heart swelled and ached. Brooke laughed softly. Extra was right. He’d already started her day off as sweetly as possible by showing her just how many different kinds of sex he specialized in, and made sweet love to her before he’d disappeared from her room at daybreak.
“Brooke?”
“Hmm?” she said, tuning in to her sister’s voice. “Listen, I’d better go. Lots of work to finish before the She Wolf returns to the den—”
“Not before you tell me about the stunt guy.”
Brooke froze and thought back, wondering if she’d said something aloud to tip Tammy off about Keaton. “Uuuuh…?”
“Man, your head is really somewhere else.” Tammy laughed. “The stunt guy you said Justin could call for help? He is so pumped over that. And I know you wouldn’t give him just anyone’s number, so what’s the scoop?”
Brooke slid the note into the pocket of her jean shorts, then leaned in to smell the roses. Their rich scent instantly improved her mood. “Do you remember that guy I told you about from LA?”
“The one who’s friends with Ellie’s guy. The one you were hoping to hook up with before you moved?”
Brooke had told her sister about Keaton months after her move during one of those late nights, long after Justin had fallen asleep and the two of them had polished off a bottle of wine.
“Yeah, him. He’s here. The project idea for Justin was actually his. So if Justin runs into problems, Keaton’s happy to talk him through as much as he can. And if Justin gets stuck with any programming problems, we’ve got Rubi on call.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Tammy said. “We’ll get to Rubi in a minute. Let’s go back to Keaton. What’s going on there?”
Brooke exhaled, nervous to talk about it, almost as if it would jinx their possibility at happiness. She also didn’t like having to put everything into concrete words, because then it all became so unrealistic again. “I’m not sure. We’re both interested, but there are a lot of roadblocks. The biggest of those right now being Jillian.”
“Jillian? How is that bitch a roadblock?”
Brooke winced and closed her eyes. “She slept with Keaton once upon a time.”
“Ew.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Okay. I’ll give him a pass on one ding. How is that creating a problem now?”
“She still wants him.”
“God, that woman…” Tammy took an audible breath and let it out slowly. “Well, on the upside, that means he’s über hot, or she would pretend he doesn’t exist like she does with everyone she has no use for. But, yes, that could be a real problem.”
Brooke heard the underlying guilt in her sister’s voice and purposely forced herself to be positive. “But not your problem, because we’re handling it. Keaton and I are on the same page. He doesn’t want to do anything that could hurt Justin, so we’re keeping things between us quiet. And to be honest, Tammy, I don’t even really know what’s between us. He’s not a serious kind of guy, if you know what I mean. He’s always been a typical breed in this industry.”
“So were Jax and Wes and Troy—until they found the right woman. And not so typical if he’s willing to hide in the shadows to protect a kid he’s never met.”
That was a good point. “One day at a time,” Brooke told her sister. “Hug Justin for me, and keep me posted.”
“If you’ll give Keaton your all.”
Brooke grinned. “I’ll take that deal.”
Before she’d said good-bye, the door to the trailer swung open, and Jillian stepped in, startling Brooke. She turned her back on the flowers, coffee, and pastry with a streak of fear shooting up her spine.
“Oh my God, Jillian.” She pressed her phone to her heart, frowning at her boss’s sudden appearance. “What are you doing here? You should be in a meeting with Phil Shriver.”
“Phil canceled,” Jillian said, her distracted gaze roaming the space. “Something about a sick brat at home. And Copalli wants to add in a shoot this afternoon.”
Shit. Anxious to get her out of the trailer, Brooke turned her attention to her phone. “Let me call Jeannette and see when she and Percy can get you into hair and makeup—”
“The security guard said Keaton brought something in here earlier today
Fire filled Brooke’s belly. Her mouth fell open to lie, but Jillian took the last step into the trailer and Brooke knew she’d never be able to hide the gifts from her boss.
While Brooke was still trying to figure out how she was going to spin this, Jillian pointed at the table behind Brooke. “What’s that?”
Fuck.
Brooke pushed her mouth into a smile, stepped aside, and did her best Vanna White impression. “Your surprise.”
Jillian ’s eyes sparked to life. But as she approached the table her expression slowly soured. She propped a hand on her hip. “Is that it?”
“What do you mean?”
Jillian made an air circle around the gift. “That. Is that all he left?”
All? Brooke wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or slap Jillian. She shrugged. “I just got here.”
“Was there a card?”
“No. No card.”
Jillian pursed her lips in one of those how-disappointing expressions. “Men.” She shook her head. “Oh well. He’ll make up for it in bed. He always does.”
That grated along Brooke’s already exposed nerves. “Oh, yeah? I’ve never had a guy like that.”
At least not until Keaton. And she wondered for a distracted moment if she’d ever find another.
“Oh, honey.” She gave Brooke a condescending, pitying look. “They’re the only kind of guy worth spreading your legs for.”
The image of Jillian spreading her legs for Keaton made Brooke’s breakfast roll toward her throat. She shook it from her head and tapped into her phone. “If you say so. Let me give Jeannette a call—”
“I’ve already talked to her,” Jillian said. The edge in her voice exposed her annoyance with Brooke’s dismissal of a topic her boss obviously wasn’t done talking about. “Keaton may not look like much in the grubby clothes he wears on the set. But, oh”—her voice turned dreamy and dripped with lust—“that man is a dark Adonis in a tux. Hair cut and styled, clean-shaven, smiling, those perfect teeth contrasting against his skin , those dark eyes of his twinkling with mischief…” Jillian put a hand over her abdomen and sighed a moan. “The man is irresistible.” She tilted her head and smiled at Brooke. “I may not be the only woman who thinks so, but I’m determined to be the woman keeping his off-hours occupied during the next eight weeks. I’ll have to talk to Copalli about holding him on the movie.” Her gaze went distant as she pulled the top off the coffee meant for Brooke and lifted it toward her mouth. “The real trick will be keeping the other sluts’ hands off him.”
Brooke’s stomach twisted tighter. “You don’t think he can be a one-woman man?”
Jillian sipped from the coffee, made a disgusted face. “Godawful. That man is going to have to become my sexual slave to make up for this. She dumped the coffee in the sink, and Brooke fisted her hands in anger. “As for being a one-woman man, I couldn’t care less. I only want him to distract me during this shoot. Besides, he’s in his prime. And I mean prime. He’s young, he has plenty of money, no responsibilities, and an exciting career. He travels everywhere, rubs elbows with all the most famous and wealthy, and the most beautiful women all over the world want to sleep with him—because he is truly a hell of a fuck. And unlike in the movies, that’s a lot harder to find than you think. Oh, yes, he’s the whole package.” She met Brooke’s gaze. “If you were him, would you want to settle for one woman? I wouldn’t.”
Brooke didn’t know. She’d seen the uglier side of that beautiful fast life, and it didn’t suit everyone. She and Ellie were perfect examples. Of course, they were also women. After so many years on the road with Ellie, behind the scenes in the music world, Brooke thought she’d seen a lot. Then she’d been introduced to Hollywood and realized she hadn’t seen the half of it.
Now she wondered if she was being naïve by letting Keaton sweet-talk her into investing too much of her heart, when he really didn’t know what it took to make a relationship work. When he himself admitted he’d never done anything but temporary before. Who was to say that in one of the millions of lonely moments they would spend apart, he wouldn’t simply say yes to one of those hundreds of beautiful women who hit on him? And who was Brooke to ask him not to? These were the best years of his life. He should be out doing everything he ever wanted to do, not struggling to fit in a sketchy rendezvous with a part-time girlfriend on the fly.
“Is that what went wrong between you two?” Now Brooke’s gut burned. She opened her iPad and clicked into Jillian’s schedule to keep her hands busy and hide the emotions rising to the surface. ”Why it didn’t work out? Because he was always looking for the next woman?”
“Keaton?” Jillian asked, laughing softly. “No. Most men with his looks and confidence and swagger know they hold the keys to the kingdom.” Jillian ran her fingertips over the edges of the rose petals. “They lie, they manipulate, and they use. They play games to keep themselves entertained at the expense of others. But Keaton has always been…just Keaton, which is probably why he’s held my interest so long.”
A strange discomfort settled in Brooke’s chest. She opened her mouth to change the subject, but Jillian spoke again.
“Yesterday, for example. He didn’t pull any punches when I tried to turn on the charm. He doesn’t like me because I’ve spent my life acting much the way all those other people act. Any other man in that studio would have hugged me back, made a date for drinks, schmoozed me up and down.” She lifted her brows at Brooke. “I am a movie star, you know.”
“Then…you’re in it for the chase?” Brooke frowned, confused by Jillian’s perspective. “Why chase if you already know he doesn’t like you?”
“Oh no.” Jillian laughed, low and husky. “Hell no. This isn’t about the chase. This is all about the catch. This is about the sex. And the sooner I get that boy into my bed, the better. He may think he’s above all the bullshit that goes on in this business, but underneath that upstanding, solid, honorable facade, he’s still a man. A man with a voracious sexual appetite. And I’m still the most gorgeous woman within a fifty-mile radius—maybe more. Even a forthright, tell-it-like-it-is, no-sugar-coating, up-front guy like Keaton wants to get laid. And the hotter the woman, the better.”
Laughter bubbled up inside Brooke. Jillian might be beautiful on the outside, but inside, she was as ugly as a tar pit. And so damn superficial she couldn’t even see there were people who valued inner beauty more than the outer beauty. “So, you think he’ll overlook the fact that he doesn’t like you or the way you operate, just to fuck you because you’re beautiful?”
“Hell yes. He did it once, didn’t he?”
“Once?” Brooke tried not to sound accusatory. “I thought you said you reconnected with him a month ago.”
“I did. Just not the way I would have liked. I plan to change that this time around.”
A knock on the door broke into Brooke’s thoughts.
“That’s Jeannette,” Jillian said without making any move toward the door. “Percy’s coming right after to do my hair.”
Brooke moved to the door, greeted Jeannette, and stepped aside to let the slender woman in her fifties pass through the tight space so she could set up at the dining table.
“Where are you filming?” Brooke asked.
“Warehouse B.”
Good. That meant Brooke could hang out in warehouse A and watch Keaton work. The thought made her smile. She could watch Keaton all day long and never get bored.
“Run along,” Jillian said, dismissing Brooke like a child. “And double-check my massage, manicure, and pedicure appointments for tomorrow. I don’t want anything to go wrong with my spa day after a hard work week.”
The woman’s condescension after she’d just confided in her like a quasi-friend fried Brooke’s last nerve. She wanted to tell her boss a hard work week was spending two shifts on your feet at the hospital taking care of others, another twenty hours in the classroom cramming information into your brain, another thirty studying everything you’d learned over and over, and the remainder of the time raising your severely asthmatic, terribly brilliant eight-year-old when you had to calculate how much you could spend on dinner every night so you didn’t run out of money before you could get a full-time job. With no fucking spa day in sight.
Instead, she offered a dutiful “Of course,” exited the trailer, and headed straight toward the person who always made her feel better. About everything.
* * * *
Keaton wiped his hands on a towel and slipped his gloves back on. He glanced up and found Brooke still sitting off in a corner, talking on the phone, her face illuminated by the screen of her iPad.
He wished he had his phone so he could text her right now. Ask her to go out to dinner with him tonight. He wanted to take her somewhere nice. Somewhere she could wear a pretty dress and heels. Where they could get a bottle of wine and appetizers and sit for hours. Talk and eat and laugh and hold hands and kiss.
But it was just as well that he didn’t have his phone. Because he couldn’t ask her to do that. There were too many members of various film crews swarming this town to risk someone seeing them alone together. They couldn’t chance starting a rumor. Their rendezvous would have to be private for the time being, which was fine with Keaton. There was nothing he wanted more. But he also wanted Brooke to know that this was about more than just sex for him. That he’d meant what he’d said last night.
Cameron came up to Keaton and offered him a bottle of water. Keaton took it and tipped it to his mouth, drinking deep.
The stagehand belaying the ropes for Keaton’s fight sequence, Russ, approached to get Cam’s news.
“Our stunt double’s currently stuck in the Calgary airport,” Cam said, taking a swig from his own water. “Her plane needs a part for the tail. And since it’s a Swedish airline, and it seems there is only one of these parts currently in existence, take one guess where that part has to come from.”
“You’re fuckin’ kidding me,” Keaton said.
“Nope. And that one thing is backing up all the flights, so she can’t get even get a decent standby spot until tomorrow.”
“Where’s FedEx when you need ’em?” Russ asked.
Cameron laughed. “She’ll be here tomorrow.” He looked at the set, then told Keaton, “I guess we could just skip over that part of the stunt and practice the ending fight.”
“The last fight is easy. We barely need a run-through to be ready there. I want to get this film back on schedule.”
Russ scratched his head and glanced around the warehouse. “What about pulling in a replacement? We’ve got a lot of fresh meat to choose from.”
Keaton thought about that for a moment. He glanced at the maze of metal, then scanned the catwalk to the jump point. From there his gaze darted to the landing point. “For you to get the pull on the ropes just right,” he told Russ, “it would have to be someone very close to Jillian’s weight. Otherwise, we’d be wasting our time. And Jillian’s skin and bones.”
“She’s not that small,” Russ said. “She’s tall, so her weight is distributed, but I’d bet she weighs a solid one hundred and twenty. She was in here yesterday bragging about her weight-lifting routine.”
Keaton huffed. Whatever. He wasn’t even going there.
“Okay, who have we got?” Cam said, turning to scan the other staff and crew. “Alana? Grace? Hell, I don’t think Mack weighs over a hundred and ten.”
Keaton’s gaze darted to Brooke. She was perfect. And just the thought of hooking her into safety lines and flying across the warehouse with her gave his belly a tingle. She would love it. But they were keeping their distance at work. So he said, “Sure, any one of those should—”
“I’d rather not use Mack,” Russ told them. “Men are just denser than women, and it may sound weird, but I’ve worked these cables a long time, and there’s a difference when I try to lift them. I think Alana’s about twenty pounds too heavy, and Grace is a serious lightweight. She might be ninety-eight pounds soaking wet.”
Keaton heaved a breath and rubbed a hand over his face, then pointed to a young intern. “There’s Logan.”
“Nah, too heavy.” Russ said. “Hey, didn’t I see Brooke over there in the corner? She’s just about right.”
There was no “about” to it. Brooke was perfect—in more ways than how her weight would work for this stunt. But Keaton wanted to keep her just right, so he said “She wouldn’t be interested—”
“How do you know, man?” Cam said. “You haven’t even asked. Yo, Brooke,” he called before Keaton could stop him. She looked up. “Can you come over for a second?”
She hesitated, glanced around the warehouse, then stood and started toward them. She’d dressed down today—casual Friday, she’d told him last night—in jean shorts and a sleeveless blouse that gently followed the curves of her breasts and abdomen, stopping just beyond the low waistband of her jeans, teasing Keaton into believing he’d get a glimpse of skin if she moved just the right way.
The filtered sun from the skylights above created an ethereal halo around her. Her sandals made the softest clip, clip, clip across the cement and sparkled in the scattered light. She’d pulled her hair up into a ponytail, played down her makeup, and looked so fuckin’ adorable, Keaton wanted to eat her alive. He wanted to take her somewhere tropical and secluded where she could dress in string bikinis—or nothing—twenty-four hours a day. Where they could lose themselves in each other for an entire month. In fact, he never wanted to let anything get between them again.
She slipped her hands into her pockets and came to a stop in front of them with a sweet smile on her beautiful face, her bright eyes alight with her characteristic eagerness to please. Keaton’s heart rolled in his chest. He’d found his girl. His very own perfect match, the same way so many of his Renegades buddies had finally found theirs. He knew it with complete certainty, and the realization created an effervescent sizzle over his skin.
In that moment, as she shared a secret smile with him, everything inside Keaton calmed. And with all the chaos quieted, his emotions came forward, taking center stage, telling him that Brooke wasn’t just his girl. Brooke was The One.
“What’s up, guys?” she asked. “Can I grab you some water? Do you need a lunch run?”
“No, no,” Cam said. “We actually need you right here.”
“Um.” She smiled, shrugged. “Okay.”
“Not if you’re in the middle of something,” Keaton added. When she met his gaze, he said, “We know your work for Jillian comes first.”
A smiled lifted her lips, and she gave him the slightest nod. “I’m okay there.” Then to Russ, she asked, “What do you need?”
Keaton watched her expression as Russ explained the stunt. Her gaze met Keaton’s, searching for security, then lifted to the catwalk, twenty feet in the air, and followed it to the end. “Out there? You want me to stand out there?”
“You really don’t—” Keaton started, but she put up her hand.
“I’m just asking questions.”
Cam shoulder-cocked Keaton a couple of steps sideways, then put a hand in the middle of his back and shoved. “Let’s find a harness that will fit her.”
Keaton twisted to knock Cam’s hand away, and found his fellow Renegade grinning. “What are you smiling about?”
“Never seen you caught up in a chick. It’s fuckin’ funny, man.”
“Shut up. And don’t even think about starting that rumor.”
“Are you kidding?” Cam said, bending to pop the top on an equipment vault. “The way that cougar licks her chops when you’re around? She’d eat Brooke as an appetizer on her way to you. I may be young, but I’m not stupid. I saw that triangle when Brooke and Jillian stepped in the door and both of them looked at you.”
Cam pulled out a harness, tossed it aside, searched through, and grabbed another. Keaton knew this gear blindfolded. He pushed his hand into the dredges of the container, felt around, and pulled their smallest harness from the bottom.
Cam stood back, his face slack with awe. “How the fuck do you do that?”
“Practice. Years and years of practice.” He looked up at Cam. “Can other people see it?”
“What? That the cougar has a hard-on for you? Or that Brooke is head over heels?”
Head over heels? Keaton darted a look over his shoulder. Russ was talking a blue streak, but Brooke didn’t look like she was paying attention. She had a dreamy smile on her face, and her gaze was fixed on Keaton. The look ignited a burst of heat at the center of his body. One that filled his heart.
God, he hoped Cam was right. It would make getting Brooke to work with him on figuring out how to narrow their damn three-thousand-mile gap.
“Never mind,” Keaton told Cam. He stood and closed the gap between them. “Just make sure you keep your mouth shut. Jillian will fire Brooke if she thinks there’s something going on between us, and Brooke needs this job for reasons I can’t explain right now.”
“Sure, man. Okay. I get it.”
“Not a word.”
“Less than a word,” Cam said, serious. “I understand confidentiality.”
Keaton’s vision cleared, and he saw the steadfast, confident, former marine standing in front of him instead of his happy-go-lucky fellow Renegade.
“I’ve got your back, dude,” Cam said. “And I like Brooke.”
“I know you do.” Keaton exhaled. “I’m sorry. This situation sucks.”
Cam brought up his smile. “Brooke seems like the kind of chick who would dig this stunt.”
Keaton laughed. “She is.”
“Then let’s have some fun.”
When they returned with the harness, Russ was still explaining the stunt’s short clip, walking her through the steps. By the time they returned to center stage, Russ moved off to talk with the cameramen, Cam grabbed cables, and Keaton fitted Brooke’s harness.
“This is really a lot like zip-lining,” he told her, fastening the straps along her ribs, lowering his voice to murmur, “Damn you smell good.”
“I’ve never been zip-lining. And so do you.”
“I do not,” he laughed. “I’m sweaty and disgusting.”
“I like you sweaty.”
Her hungry whisper shivered down Keaton’s spine.
He met her eyes, their blue hue bright and sparkling with mischief and desire. “I like you making me sweaty.”
He finished with the last buckle and asked, “You’ve really never been zip-lining?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, well, I kind of under-exaggerated anyway. It’s really like zip-lining on drugs. If this feels overwhelming at any time, you just tell me and we’ll stop.”
He crouched to pull another strap between her legs and fasten it behind her. She turned her head and gave him that sexy smile. “I’m excited.”
Grinning, he checked the harness over and over. Every clip, every buckle, every tie.
Cam came up behind her and hooked cables to the D-rings on the back of the harness. “I think someone’s got that spark of adrenaline in her eyes.”
She laughed. “I don’t know about that.” She ran her hands over the harness. “It’s fun to watch, and I’m excited to try it, but…I’ll leave the everyday life-defying acts to you guys.”
“Have fun,” Cam said before he moved to Russ’s side off stage.
“Hey, where’s your phone?” Keaton asked her.
“Oh, right.” She pulled it from her back pocket. “Probably shouldn’t have this on me.”
“It would be cool to have one of the crew video it so you can show it to Justin.”
“Oh my God.” Her eyes lit up, followed by a gorgeous smile. “Great idea.”
“God I want to kiss you so bad right now,” he murmured.
Her gaze went soft, and her eyes lowered to his mouth. “I wish.”
“Where’s Jillian?” he asked, taking Brooke’s phone.
“Next door, filming.”
He nodded, then called to a stagehand. “Mack.” He offered Brooke’s phone. “Can you get a couple of good clips of this run-through for Brooke’s nephew?”
“Sure.”
Everyone moved back into position, and Keaton took Brooke’s hand as she climbed the stairs to the catwalk. Since they weren’t filming today, there was no director around to tell them what to do, so Keaton walked her to the end of the platform and up the steps at the end that led to nowhere and dropped off into nothing.
“Whoa,” she said with a tight laugh as she reached the end. “Why does this look so much higher from up here?”
“Always does.” He pointed at the blue mat covering the floor below. “If you fall, it’s like a pillow.”
“If you say so.”
“I’m going to race down this ramp, jump these stairs, grab you, and launch myself across the opening and to the other side.” He pointed to the other half of the ramp, which had been displaced six feet higher. The cables are going to help me make that leap. The finesse comes in on the landing. I need to land on the lip of that top step to start the next fight scene. Which is why practicing with the right weight is important for both the crew and me. Then we’ll all know exactly what we need to do to make the landing right with the fewest takes. When the stuntwoman gets here tomorrow, we can film and move on.”
“Okay, got it.”
“I’m going to be coming at you hard and fast. I might knock the wind out of you.”
She laughed softly, and her eyes heated. “I know the feeling, and I could never get enough of it.”
A buzz kicked up in his belly. “Man, I like the sound of that. So, are you okay? Are you ready?”
“I’m always ready for you.”
He laughed, joy sizzling through his veins. “Baby, you’ve got me juiced.”
“Then let’s do this.”
He positioned her looking out at the warehouse and curled her fingers around the thin railing. “Don’t hold tight, okay? You’ve got to let go when I grab you.”
She nodded.
Keaton jogged back to his starting point He would never have believed having Brooke on the other end of a stunt with him could have brought such a thrill. But he was seriously stoked.
“We’re ready,” Russ called.
“Ready here,” repeated the cameraman who’d be taking the test film.
“Here we go,” Cam called.
Keaton shifted on his feet, scraped his running shoes against the metal until they gripped, and dropped into a ready crouch with his gaze on Brooke. And he definitely had a little extra fire burning at the center of his chest.
“Ready…” Cam said. “And… Go.”
Keaton dug in and pushed into a sprint. He used his breath to take him the distance strong and fast. As he approached Brooke, he noticed everything in split seconds even though it was all happening at once—the whites of her eyes as they widened, the way her body tensed just before impact, the way her head ducked and her eyes scrunched closed as he grabbed her.
Her squeal vibrated in the air as he locked her body against his with one arm and launched from the top step with complete and utter faith in the men handling the ropes. And just as his foot left the rail, his harness pulled, his body lifted, and the cables carried him upward.
But Keaton immediately knew the guys handling the cables had used too much strength, and he and Brooke overshot the platform.
“Dammit,” he muttered as they swung back toward the main stage. But as they dangled like a pendulum on their way to the ground, he added, “Oh, well, that just means we get to do it again. And again, and again, and again until we get it right.” He tightened the arm at her waist, pulling her ass into his groin where heat and sensation tingled through his cock. “I’m all about getting it just right.”
She sighed a little moan and slid her hand over his arm. Turning her head a little, she asked, “Are you going to get a break? I really want a secret little rendezvous with you right now.”
Her eyes were wide and excited, her cheeks flushed, and her heartbeat pounded quick and hard against her ribs beneath his arm. The only thing that distinguished between fear and thrill was the sparkling smile cutting across her face.
“Uh-oh…” he teased, smiling at her. “Do I have a little adrenaline junkie on my hands?”
“I don’t know about an adrenaline junkie, but you might have a nympho. Because, wow, that is a serious turn-on.”
That struck a funny bone, and Keaton threw his head back and laughed. Which made Brooke laugh. They were just setting their feet on the ground and catching their breath when Keaton said, “Can you get away tonight? If we go out of town, we could find a place for dinner—”
“What in the hell is going on?”
Brooke’s whole body went rigid at the sound of Jillian’s harsh voice, and she whispered a tight, “Fuck.”
The sound of her voice saturated in dread lifted the hair on the back of Keaton’s neck. Cameron was already approaching Jillian with his all-American country-boy charm to explain the delay with the stuntwoman as Russ approached Keaton and Brooke.
“Let us take the heat,” Keaton told Brooke, his voice low. Russ unhooked the cable at his back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t act like you did.”
He started to step past her, but Brooke grabbed his arm. Tight. She didn’t look up. “Please don’t do anything to upset—”
“Nobody commandeers my assistant without asking.” Jillian was slamming Cameron with condescension and attitude. Keaton started toward her. “Brooke,” Jillian scolded, “what do you have to say—”
“Jillian.” Keaton’s tone cut her off and drew her gaze. Her anger turned sullen. “We didn’t exactly give her a choice. And we did it to keep this film on schedule for you. Having this stunt ready to go when the stuntwoman comes will help get the film back on track.”
Brooke came into his peripheral vision, and Keaton purposely kept his gaze riveted to Jillian.
“If you needed a stand-in, you should be using me. Brooke’s hardly a substitute.” Jillian rolled her shoulders back and added a little more attitude to her stance. Her gaze sent a clear you-stepped-out-of-bounds message to Brooke, and Keaton felt horrible for the stress he knew had to be boiling inside Brooke right now. “She can barely keep my schedule straight.”
“You’re not cleared for stunt work.” He said it with a bite to draw her focus off Brooke. “The insurance would never allow it. And you should be filming right now.”
“Hmph. At least the insurance company recognizes my value.” She crossed her arms. “And one of the cameras is down next door. They’re repairing it, so they gave us a break. I thought I’d come over and stay warm by watching you work. But you’ll have to find another substitute for my double.” She turned another one of those barely tolerable looks on Brooke that made Keaton fist his hands. “Brooke has more important things to do.”
“I confirmed all your appointments,” Brooke told her, voice level. “Answered all your mail, and completed the projects we talked about.”
A slow smile curved Jillian’s lips. A tight, you-little-bitch smile. “Great. Then why don’t you go clean my trailer?”
The order took Keaton aback. Apparently it did the same to Brooke.
“Excuse me?” she said.
“Clean. My. Trailer,” Jillian repeated, enunciating the words as if Brooke were an idiot. “Jeannette and Percy left it a mess. And since you dressed like trailer trash today”—Jillian’s icy gaze roamed Brooke’s outfit—“it fits.”
Sonofabitch. Keaton’s temper raged beneath his skin.
But Brooke just offered a subdued, “Yes ma’am,” and walked back to the corner of the warehouse to collect her things. With her head down, she hurried to exit through a side door.
“Who the fuck have you become?” Keaton crossed his arms, set his feet, and stared Jillian down. “Is this what divorce does to you? Or is it the fame? Maybe the money? It has to be something that happened in the last few years, because you weren’t like this when I met you.”
“Like what? Strong, confident, straightforward? Oh, yes, I was. And you liked it.”
“I also like common decency and compassion and kindness, which you don’t have a trace of now. Now you’re just mean. You’re straight-up cruel. I hate this word, and I rarely use it, but, baby, you are a royal bitch.”
She laughed, as if his slight meant nothing. “I’m a bitch because I discipline my staff for goofing off on my dime?”
“She wasn’t goofing off. Didn’t you hear me tell you why we put her in that harness? Didn’t you hear her tell you she’d completed all the work you’d asked her to do? Then to send her on such a menial job to satisfy your own frustration—that’s just sadistic, Jillian.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So this is about Brooke.”
“There’s that hearing problem again. No, this is not about Brooke. This is about everyone here.” He held his arms wide and realized everyone was listening and watching. Which was just fucking fine with him. “You talk down to every employee here. You complain about everything, no matter how well something is done or how hard anyone tries to please you. You ignore anyone and everyone else’s needs and feelings. The truth is you don’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself, and you do your damnedest to make everyone around you feel as small as possible. And I am fucking sick of it.”
Rob, the assistant director, came up to them, alarm clear on his face. “What’s going on?”
Jillian looked at Rob, then at Keaton. “Keaton was just telling me how thoughtless, rude, and bitchy I am.”
Rob’s gaze turned on Keaton with a please-tell-me-she’s-kidding look.
“You’ve worked with me,” he told Rob. He wasn’t pulling punches now. “And you know I won’t put up with this diva shit.”
“You don’t have to work with her,” Rob said, then turned to Jillian. “You should be in the other warehouse, filming.”
“They’re fixing a broken camera.” She turned her attitude on Rob. “As the director, you should know that.”
Keaton pointed at her but spoke to Rob. “Attitudes like that kill morale. And you know as well as anyone that bad morale translates into the film.” He held his hands up in surrender. “Not my problem. I’m out of here when Dupleaux recovers. Just keep her away from me.”
He turned and stalked back toward the metal jungle, passing Cam with a grouchy “Let’s get back to work.”