Chapter Two
Toni had been working with her cameraman Ned for three years. He was about a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet, wore hipster glasses and skinny jeans, and could move like lightning, even with the massive camera he wielded. Their working relationship was fantastic because Jake could instantly react to her often impulsive maneuvers, even if it involved scaling a wall or stealing a bike temporarily for a gag. So he didn’t even flinch now when she warned him she was going to go off script.
“Just cue me left or right at least,” he said as they stood on the studio lot where Jack was filming an action sequence.
It was a film that had been put to bed, for the most part, but needed a few scenes reshot, which meant they did not have full crew. It hadn’t been difficult to get approval for their little sketch from the studio and Jack’s PR team. Toni had the clout with millennials and teens and Hollywood was mystified by it, but was smart enough to know this was an easy way to take advantage. Free publicity. Always a good thing.
Jack was expecting her and she was supposed to be ambushed by him kissing her. What Jack did not know was that she was going rogue and instead of sticking to him kissing her, she was going to surprise him with a kiss first, and with one of her famous douchelord awards. The recurring gag had started out as a joke—no shocker there—after a particularly lousy first date where the guy had been thirty minutes late, then announced the reason why was because he had been having sex in his car with his ex. So after ranting about it on camera, she had created the award, a gilded dildo reserved only for the biggest dicks.
She knew she wasn’t precisely being fair to Jack, because he wasn’t a dick. But, he was famous. And it would be funny. Plus he would forgive her. So she was going for it. “Ned, I have a lot of bad ideas, don’t I?”
It was hotter than hell in Burbank and she was wearing a sundress with her Converse. It was the only way to beat the heat.
“Bad, as in, they don’t go according to plan, or bad as in stupid?” Ned wasn’t looking at her. He was fiddling with his camera, down in a squat.
“Stupid as in I both piss people off and create problems for myself. This might be one of those.” She bit her fingernail and wondered if a sex accouterment was a bit over the top for a SAG actor on a traditional studio set. Probably. She had it tucked into the belt of her sundress like the world’s most useless sword, ironically. “Maybe I should rein it in just slightly.”
Ned glanced up at her. “Are you going straight and narrow? Mainstream? That’s not your demographic.”
He was right. But talking to Jack, being reminded of the past, had contributed to the nagging feeling that it was difficult to mature and be taken serious when she was still doing pranks involving fake poo. It was a little juvenile, she had to admit.
Then she shook it off. If she grew up she would be out of a job and broke. Broke as a joke. How ironic was that?
“True that,” she told Ned. “Okay, Jack is expecting me in an hour. So let’s pop in now.”
“Got it.” Ned hoisted his camera up onto his shoulder and said, “Lead the way.”
After dodging a few golf carts and asking a woman with a clipboard where she had gotten her shoes, Toni came around the corner of the set and saw that fortunately they were not filming. There was a lot of standing around going on in front of a couple of vintage cars. Jack was dressed in a black suit, fitted, very James Bond. “Damn,” she murmured out loud. “Jack’s been hitting the gym.” As a leading man he had to keep up his physique but she hadn’t realized quite how buff he had gotten.
The key was to get out there before anyone drew attention to her. So gesturing for Ned to follow, she spoke to the camera. “Jack Cooper on set. He has no idea I’m here. I’m not exactly sure what I’m going to do, because you know, I change my mind every three seconds, but I’m just going to roll with it.”
That wasn’t true, obviously. Sometimes she felt guilty lying when her pranks were staged, but no one expected reality entertainment to actually be real anymore.
She fast-walked up behind him, tapped him on the shoulder, and went up on her toes, laying one on him like she had Dean Stoner.
Only it wasn’t Dean Stoner.
Hell, it wasn’t even Jack.
It was a man with darker eyes than Jack. A more chiseled face. A seriously intense expression that registered somewhere in the back of her brain one second before her mouth covered his. She expected him to jerk away. It was the usual reaction. Only two or three times had men just dropped right into the unexpected kiss and made love to her mouth like they’d known each other for years.
This was one of those.
Tall, Dark, and Sexy didn’t step back or set her away from him. He didn’t even miss a beat. He just kissed her back, their lips meeting in perfect harmony while she strained to stay up on her tiptoes. Her entire body was straining, straining to understand what was happening because this kiss, unlike every other ambush kiss before, was driving her crazy. It was sweet, arousing perfection.
Then it was over and she saw zero evidence of a man who had actually enjoyed that or had participated at all. She actually wondered if she had imagined his consent. Maybe he had been fending her off the whole time and she had fallen into a vortex of sexual desire.
He pulled back, his eyes narrowed, his jaw set. “Do I know you?” His hands gripped hers and he tried to force them down off of his shoulders.
Toni didn’t go down easily, despite the fact that she was mildly embarrassed by how perfect her lips had felt on his, or that she might have mind-fucked herself. Talk about an accomplishment. She clung to his shoulders so that they were in a battle of hands and arms.
“What?” she said, her comedic timing instantly kicking in despite the fact that he had rattled her girl parts. “How could you forget me after that night we spent together in Santa Barbara? You swore to love me as long as there are stars in the sky.”
His strength was far greater than hers and he got her hands down by her waist. He held them there with one hand, like he was afraid to let her loose. Which he should be. She’d climb right back on him if he released her.
The sexy stranger frowned, rubbing his lips like he wanted to expunge the feel of her mouth from his. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He glanced around, like he was looking for her handler. “Who are you?”
“I’m your everything, silly.” Toni pursed her lips and went for another kiss, despite not having actual use of her hands. But whatever had overtaken him the first time, if that had been real, he wasn’t about to repeat it.
“Stop doing that,” he said, sounding frustrated.
“No? You don’t love me anymore?” Then she dropped back down and pretended to assess him. “Wait a minute, you are not Jack Cooper.”
Now the man looked both annoyed and relieved. “No. Not at all.”
She waited for him to expound on that or ask her questions or tell her off but the silence drew out as he just frowned, deep furrows settling in between his eyes. The man was gorgeous, but very, very serious.
“Then who are you?” Toni asked.
Nothing. His nostrils just flared.
She pretended to tap a mic. “Hello, is this thing on?” She gave him a smile.
Chance Ashton stared down at the tiniest woman with the biggest head of hair he’d ever seen. She only came up to his armpit and had a halo of black riotous curls. This was not the woman who was supposed to be filming the scene with him. She was also confusing the hell out of him. He let go of her hands and took a step back from her.
“I’m Jack Cooper’s stunt double. My name is Chance Ashton. Who are you?” And why exactly had she kissed him? He didn’t buy that she was a stalker fan or an actual lover of Jack’s. Security was too tight on the studio lot for just a random nutbag to access the set.
“Sarah Silverman’s stunt double?” she suggested, her head tilted, a sassy smile on her face.
“I’m going to take a stab in the dark that you’re screwing with me because I do not think you’re a stunt woman.” Chance didn’t have jokes. Chance didn’t even get jokes. It wasn’t that he was gullible, it was that he couldn’t wrap his head around them. There were only two options here—this woman was certifiable or this was something intended to be funny. He thought it was the latter but he was more bewildered than bemused.
“How do you know? Are you stereotyping stunt women? If I wanted to, your nuts could be Nutella. I may not look tough, but I can pack a punch.”
That he seriously doubted. She looked like a toddler could take her.
Then without warning she punched him in the gut. Or tried to. His reflexes were precise. He’d been training since a teen and had done a stint as a pro fighter in mixed martial arts. Without thinking he had her wrist in his and stopped the blow.
He wasn’t gripping her hard but she seemed annoyed he had prevented her assault.
“Hey, now! No manhandling, mister.”
“You’re the one who kissed me.” Chance didn’t have time for this. He didn’t like people who wouldn’t give a straight answer. “Do I need to call security?”
“What? No, of course not! I’m legit.”
Legitimately pulling his leg. Chance was about to find the choreographer and ask him what the hell was going on when the brunette said, “Let’s try that again.”
He thought she was going to try to punch him again. But she did some weird karate chop to his leg. She came so perilously close to slamming the side of her hand into his dick that he reacted on pure instinct.
He had her on the ground in two seconds flat.
She squawked in surprise and possibly pain.
He paused, hovering over her. She looked a little scared. Yeah, this so wasn’t right. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’m fine.” Her voice was breathy and her wide eyes did strange things to his insides.
“Okay, for real, who are you? What is going on, because you are not a stuntwoman.”
“How do you know that?” she asked, though she didn’t look offended. She looked amused and very relaxed. She was in control of the situation despite the fact that he had taken her to the ground. “I could do stunts. But maybe not if you’re going to throw me around. I guess that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? Damn it. Though I have to say there is something to be said for a hot guy being on top of me.”
Right. He was on top of her. He scrambled back, caught off guard. It was then Chance realized there was a cameraman filming them. Not the studio crew, but just a kid with a camera. He also realized that her dress was shoved way up on her thighs. He saw a whole lot of smooth pale flesh and white lace panties. His mouth went dry. He pulled her skirt back down instinctively to assist her but she reacted the way any woman would when a strange man grapples with her clothing.
“Get off me! What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to cover you back up, sorry.” Now he was really confused. And pissed off. And embarrassed. He had just thrown a woman to the ground. Not exactly cool. “Let me help you up. What’s your name, by the way?” He held his hand out to her for assistance.
“Toni.” She accepted his hand, slipping her small one into his and letting him haul her to a sitting position. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chance. And I’m sorry, too, you’re right, I’m not a stuntwoman. I’m a comedienne and I actually thought you were Jack from behind. This was a bit of a fail.”
A comedienne, huh? Now that fit. “Do you want to explain to me what the hell is going on? Because attacking me is dangerous. You could have been seriously hurt.”
Now she laughed. She actually laughed at him. “Ooh. Okay. Duly noted. Taking Chance is dangerous.”
If she weren’t so damn cute he would be beyond irritated as hell. But she was. Cute. Like really cute. She had a button nose and sparkling green eyes and a long neck that made him want to bury his lips in that soft flesh and suck. Which was why, if he were honest with himself, he had kissed her back. Just for a second. He hadn’t been dating recently and he’d been cool with that. His last girlfriend had been more into posting pictures of him shirtless on her social media than actually spending time with him and he hadn’t been looking all that hard for a new relationship.
He wasn’t now either. This was precisely the type of woman who was not his type. He judged her to be in her late twenties despite her short stature, and he had to admit, her smile was adorable. She leaned back on the palms of her hands, and crossed her ankles, like she was perfectly comfortable sitting on the hot asphalt.
Yet he was at work and he didn’t have time to play whatever game she was playing. They were both sitting on their asses. He rose to his feet and gestured to the cameraman. “I don’t want you putting this on the Internet if that guy is filming.” He held his hand out to help her off the ground.
She waved her hand, dismissing both his assistance and his comment, and made no move to get off the ground. “We’re not live, no worries. My plan was to sneak up behind Jack and kiss him. I’m not supposed to be here for another hour.”
If there was one thing Chance was not, it was funny. He was well aware of that fact. He envied someone who was quick and witty and could make everyone laugh. Chance was intense, he always had been. It used to concern his mother, how disciplined he was even as a child, but his father had always approved, before he’d passed away when Chance was twelve. He’d been a great candidate for the military and had joined the marines right out of high school. But someone like Toni, and her ability to be so spontaneous, intrigued him.
“So you just go around randomly kissing people you know?” That seemed like an odd career, but then again, he got punched in the face for a living.
“Oh, sometimes it’s total strangers,” she said.
He eyed her, not sure what to think. “Then mission accomplished.”
Toni laughed. “But it was a good kiss.” She winked at him. “Nice bod, by the way. Jack is fit, but you are ridiculous.”
He wouldn’t be human if that didn’t stroke his ego more than a little. But he was a confident enough guy that he could see her tactic for what it was—a distraction technique. “Thank you. Now please let me help you up.”
His goal was to get away from her as quickly as possible. This was not the way a day at the office was supposed to go.
“Only if you agree to kiss me again.”
Chance stared down the brunette, hoping to intimidate her. She didn’t flinch or break his gaze. If anything, she looked even more amused. “Why?” he asked.
“It will be good for ratings and you did just knock me to the ground. I think you owe me.”
If she had left it at “ratings” he could have resisted. But his guilt and moral confusion left him no choice. “Fine. But one kiss, two minutes of my time, then my day returns to normal.”
“Now that’s a pick-up line every woman dreams of hearing.”
“I’m not—" He started to protest, but instantly realized she was just messing with him. “I’m not trying to be rude.” It was just he was at work and she wasn’t his type.
She wasn’t genuinely interested in him anyway.
She tossed her curls back. He hated that he was standing and she was still on the ground. He felt uptight and restless. She looked relaxed and in control.
“Well, Chance Ashton, maybe you should try a little harder.”
That irritated him. He was not being rude. He really wasn’t. He stood by that. He was about to protest when he realized that she had something hooked into the belt on her dress. “What is that?”
Because he could have sworn it was a gilded dildo.