I stripped out of my clothes and stepped over the edge of the tub and under the hot spray of water from the shower head.
Ah yes. I nearly moaned.
There were two certainties in life: there was nothing better than a hot shower after working all day, and there were no certainties in this life.
There were possibilities. There were options. There were mistakes. There were a million “what-ifs?” But nothing was ever certain.
Over the past several weeks, I’d started to wrap my mind around Grace Murphy. I’d focused on understanding her, her motives, her personal convictions, her life, with the sole purpose of giving the most accurate portrayal of her that I could.
Now, with Hugo Roman, Cold’s director, officially in the trenches of our production and two days into actual filming, I was starting to understand the whole “there were no certainties in life” sentiment. Despite the last-minute script changes and the blowouts with Boyce Williams and the everyday chaos that sometimes came with filming a movie, that realization had nothing to do with filming.
It was all Grace Murphy-motivated.
I was fully invested in her. I was living and breathing her. And the fact that one day she’d been on this earth, and the next she’d been gone was becoming a complex thing for my brain to comprehend.
She’d been a beautiful, special, amazing human being who was surrounded by a town of people who’d loved her dearly. She’d had aspirations. She’d had dreams.
At twenty-six years young, she’d had her whole life ahead of her.
But, in an instant, all of those things had been snuffed right out.
There are no certainties.
It was these kinds of realizations that could keep us up at night. They could consume us until we felt suffocated and helpless. Hell, I was pretty sure I’d freaked my sister Camilla out last night when we’d talked on the phone about the philosophical, life-related thoughts I’d been having while filming Cold.
“You’re scaring me, Ivy,” she’d said. “Are you okay?”
“I swear I’m fine,” I’d responded. “And these aren’t bad realizations to have, Cami. They’re soul-searching kinds of questions, and they’re necessary to have from time to time. They make you realize that, although there are no certainties, we should savor every minute of this ride of life we’re on.”
“Well…they sure as fuck feel depressing to me.”
Her response had urged the corners of my lips to rise and a soft laugh from my throat. I’d quickly changed the subject after that, to my recent online Sephora splurge, as a matter-of-fact. Which, holy hell, it was a freaking mystery of the modern world how it was possible to spend so much on so little.
Makeup, man. That shit could make anyone go bankrupt.
By the way Camilla’s tone had eased and a smile had made a reappearance in her voice, I’d known she’d appreciated the much cheerier change in conversation.
To her core, my sister was a real softie. She often avoided watching or reading the news just because it would take her days to shake stories of violence or tragedy. Where I was sometimes a little rougher around the edges, she was sensitive. I had a quick temper, and she hardly ever raised her voice. She was quiet as a mouse, and I could easily slide into boisterous and outspoken without any effort.
We might have been identical twins, but we were very, very different.
Opposite, but right.
In my opinion, a perfect mix. We rarely fought, and we balanced each other out. She could calm my red-hot-tempered ass down, and I had no qualms about doing whatever I needed to protect her fragile heart.
She might have been my assistant, but she was also my sister. My world.
It’d only taken me a good twenty minutes of being lost in my own head before I decided to actually take a shower versus just stand under the water. Quickly, and with efficient movements, I washed my hair, my body, and turned off the faucet before I used up all of the hot water.
I’d learned pretty quickly that Grace’s house, while cozy and adorable, was old as fuck, and the water heater had probably seen better days.
Twenty plus minutes in the shower was pushing it.
Red splotches covered my freshly washed skin, and the delicious aroma of Herbal Essences shampoo permeated the bathroom. I’d been a fan of that product since I was a teenager and saw the commercials of the near-orgasmic women in the shower with their soapy hair piled high on their heads.
I guess I was a sucker for a good marketing campaign.
As I dried my body, slid off my towel, and slipped on my new favorite fleece robe I’d ordered off of Amazon, I realized there really was nothing better than a hot shower after working all day.
Twelve hours on set and even my bones ached with exhaustion.
Hugo Roman, Cold’s director, was a freaking workhorse.
I honestly had no idea when the man actually slept, and because of his workaholic tendencies, what should’ve been an eight-hour day had been extended an additional four hours.
We’d accomplished a lot, though. Despite the long hours, the day hadn’t dragged. And I’d found myself so invested in the scenes we’d filmed, the time had passed at a rapid-fire pace.
Fatigue hadn’t set in until I’d been in my rental and heading for home.
Prior to Hugo’s arrival, things had been shaky with Boyce running the ship. The days had crawled by, and I’d felt like his oftentimes sour mood led to more chaos and blowups than anything else. It was no surprise, though. Boyce Williams was a certified dick to his core.
I cringed when a memory of him berating me on set—in front of fucking everyone—flashed before my eyes.
That’d been horrible. And so goddamn uncalled-for.
I had merely stated my concerns regarding the first intimate scene between Grace and Levi. But, obviously, Boyce hadn’t taken the fact that I was voicing my opinion too well.
In fact, it had gone over as well as a fart in a beauty pageant.
With the heel of my foot resting on the edge of the tub, I squirted a healthy amount of my favorite lotion into my palms and rubbed it into my skin.
Thank God for Levi.
My eyes popped wide of their own accord, and I stopped my fingers mid-rub on the skin of my right thigh.
I honestly figured that was a first for me, giving thanks to Levi Fox for anything but being a pain in my ass. Or a hot as fuck kisser.
Good Lord. I shook my head at the ridiculousness of my mind’s thoughts this evening and finished up with my lotion.
As I brushed my hair and stared at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t deny that my annoyingly intuitive brain had a point. If it hadn’t been for Levi stepping in the other day while Boyce had been losing his shit in front of everyone, I might’ve broken down right there in front of most of the cast and crew.
It would have been embarrassing.
But to my utter surprise, Levi had prevented that. He’d stood up for me. He’d understood that I’d needed to leave the set for a little bit and get myself in order.
Thank God for Levi.
Once Hugo had arrived, and I’d expressed my concerns about the first bedroom scene to him in private, away from eavesdropping ears and egotistical producers, he’d listened.
The end result? Rewrites. The first “bedroom scene” had changed from full-out sex to a deep, heady kiss that left both characters wanting more.
Kind of like that real-life first kiss with Levi…
And the second…
And the third…
Jesus. I wished my brain would just chill out on the Levi Fox thoughts.
Without any effort, I could picture his midnight blue eyes. The light scruff covering his jaw. The way his brow furrowed when he was irritated or focused. And the way his shoulders held so much power and so much pain at the same time. Most days, he looked like he was carrying a thousand pounds of tragedy.
And, if I closed my eyes, I could even picture his smile.
It was oh so rare, but God, it was a sight to behold.
Yeah, I need to get off this train of thought ASAP.
Hair brushed but still damp, I headed into the kitchen to make a “before bed” cup of coffee. Yeah, I knew it was a bit odd, drinking caffeine so late in the evening, but I was a world-class coffee addict. No amount of caffeine could keep me up at night. I could practically drink an espresso and still sleep like a baby.
Before I reached the coffeepot, my phone started vibrating across the counter, and I snatched it up before it vibrated itself right onto the floor.
Incoming Call: Grandpa Sam.
I smiled at the name and didn’t think twice before hitting accept.
“Hi, Grandpa Sam,” I greeted, all ears and smiles for his call. Over the past few weeks, I’d grown to love this man as if he were my own flesh and blood.
His gruff chuckle filled my ears. “Hello, Ms. Ivy.”
“What are you doing up so late?” I asked, and he laughed softly again.
“Is this your way of calling me an old man?”
“Oh my God, no.” It was my turn to laugh, and my cheeks heated with embarrassment at the same time. “It’s just well after nine, and I thought…”
“And you thought an old man like me needs to be in bed before the ten o’clock news comes on?”
“You’re so damn ornery, I swear,” I retorted, and my cheeks puckered out from my tickled grin. “And that’s not at all what I think or what I was trying to say. Give me a break, Grandpa Sam. I’m a bit exhausted from working all day.”
“A-ha,” he responded. “So, it looks like you’re actually the old one in this scenario.”
I giggled. “Yeah, technically, tonight, I am the old lady out of the two of us.”
“First old, now a lady. What other things are you going to call me during this chat?”
“Oh my God,” I said on an amused groan. “What can I help you with this fine evening, young, handsome, extremely manly and exuberantly never tired, Mr. Sam Murphy?”
He chuckled heartily. “Now, that is much, much better.”
I swear to God, for an eighty-year-old man, he was a world-class flirt.
“I figured you’d enjoy that,” I said and pulled the coffeepot out of the machine. As he continued to talk, I turned on the tap water and retrieved enough water for two cups.
“I actually have a reason for calling,” he said, finally getting to the point. “I want to invite you somewhere tomorrow.”
“Oh, really?” I asked, holding my cell to my ear with my shoulder and popping open a half-empty can of Folgers.
“It’s somewhere special, and I would like for you to come,” he said. “It would mean a lot to me, in fact.”
How in the hell could I say no to that?
“Well,” I started as I added a scoop of ground coffee into the filter and clicked the coffee machine on. “If it’s important to you, then it is important to me.”
“So, you’ll go?” he asked, and I couldn’t miss the hope in his voice.
“Just tell me the details, and I’ll be there.”
“It’s tomorrow evening at Muldett’s,” he said.
“Muldett’s?”
“The main banquet hall in Cold. About a mile up the road from town hall.”
“Oh, okay.” I nodded in understanding. Cold, Montana was basically the size of my pinkie toe, and it hadn’t taken much for me to learn my way around town. “And what exactly is happening at this banquet hall?”
“It’s a party. For Grace.”
My brow lifted in surprise. A party for Grace?
“It’s just a little tradition we’ve been doing since she passed,” he added. “We have a party on her birthday to celebrate her life. It’s been a good way for her mother and those who were closest to her—me included—to gain some closure in losing her so damn young. And Grace loved birthdays.”
“Wow…” I paused and found myself at a loss for words.
It was overwhelming, honestly. I mean, for one, it was pretty amazing that Grace’s family and friends did something like this to keep her memories alive, to keep her close to their hearts.
But I was just a stand-in for a movie. I wasn’t sure how well I would fit into the equation that was her real-life family and friends.
“Don’t overthink it, Ms. Ivy,” he said softly into my ear. “I want you there. Grace’s mom wants you there. Everyone wants you there. And like I said before, it would mean a lot to me if you’d come.”
“Okay,” I responded, but uncertainty clenched at my stomach.
Before I could express my concerns to him, three loud knocks on the front door damn near made me piss my pants.
“You still there, sweetheart?” he asked, and I nodded as I stared at the door.
What the hell? Who would be showing up here at nearly ten o’clock at night?
“Ivy?” Sam asked again, and seeing as we were on the phone, I quickly realized my nod wasn’t a response he could hear.
“Shit,” I muttered. “Sorry. I’m still here.”
Three more knocks filled the otherwise quiet space of Grace’s house.
“Hold on, someone is knocking at my door.”
“Don’t they know you’re an old lady who goes to bed before ten?”
“Ha-ha, Sam. Funny,” I retorted as I walked to the door with the phone still pressed to my ear. I figured it was best to keep him on the line while I figured out who was making a late-night stop.
Maybe it’s Levi?
I ignored that thought and peeked out the window of the living room. It was pitch-black and I couldn’t see a goddamn thing, but thankfully, a few moments later, another few knocks were followed by a very familiar voice yelling my name.
As I swung open the door, for some odd reason, my heart clenched slightly in disappointment.
But that quickly dissipated, replaced by the comforting vision of one of my favorite people in the whole world.
Same red hair. Matching emerald eyes. And a brilliant smile.
Camilla.
My assistant. My sister. A damn near reflection of me. My twin.
“Holy shit!” I exclaimed as she stood on the front porch with her rolling suitcase sitting beside her feet. “I thought you weren’t coming for another few weeks?” My eyes narrowed. “What about all the shit you were doing for me in LA?”
She shrugged. “I figured you needed someone to keep you company out here in the middle of nowhere, and I forked most of it off on Mariah. I can’t properly assist you from afar, now can I?”
“Oh my gosh!” I smiled as wide as Texas. “This is the best surprise ever!”
“Hello?” Sam’s voice filled my ear, and I quickly remembered I was still holding my phone. “Everything okay, Ivy?”
“Oh, shit,” I muttered and grabbed the handle of Camilla’s suitcase and gestured for her to find solace from the frigid Montana weather inside the house. “Everything is fine,” I said into the receiver as I shut the door and clicked the lock into place.
“Who’s there?” he asked. “Sounds like you’ve got a special visitor.”
“It’s my sister, Camilla. She surprised me by coming into town a few weeks early.”
“Aw, that’s nice,” he said with a smile in his voice. “Well, I’ll let you go since you’ve got some catchin’ up to do.”
“Okay, Sam. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Oh, and bring that sister of yours along tomorrow night, okay?” he added, but it wasn’t really a question. He offered a quick goodnight, and then the line clicked dead.
I set my phone down on the coffee table and wrapped my arms tightly around my sister with a giggle leaving my lips. “God, I’m so glad you’re here. I missed you so much, Cami.”
“I missed you too,” she said and hugged me tighter. “I can’t wait to hear about everything that’s been going on the past several weeks. I feel so out of the loop!”
She released her hold and stepped back to look at me.
“Tell. Me. Everything. The people. The town. What in the hell you’ve been doing with your time? Every-thing,” she added with a wink. “But first, I need to pee and get out of these jeans. Denim is never a good idea for a long trip.”
I smiled knowingly and pointed toward the hall. “Bathroom is on the left. Your bedroom is at the end of the hall.”
“Perfect.”
“Oh!” she said as she took off her jacket and set it down on the edge of the couch. “Mom and Dad are a little pissed at you for only calling them once since you’ve been in Montana. You should probably give them a ring and let them know you’re still alive and kicking.”
“Whoops.” I grimaced. “I guess I’ve been a bit busy.”
Camilla just smirked. “Definitely call them tomorrow. I’m tired of hearing Mom bitch about it. Plus, they miss their second-favorite daughter.”
I laughed, but melancholy flittered at the edges of my heart. I missed them too.
I was generally really good about keeping my folks in the loop, and usually, when I was away on location, I wanted to keep them in the loop. Phone calls with Dave and Helen Stone always made me feel better when things were stressful. Our little family of four was a tight-knit bunch, and it was very unlike me not to talk to them on at least a weekly basis.
But ever since I’d arrived in Cold, my usual tendencies had been derailed. My focus fixated somewhere else.
A sexy, brooding man with alpha-like tendencies and a badge.
As I watched Camilla grab her suitcase and get settled in, I couldn’t ignore the pang inside my chest.
She wanted me to tell her everything, but ironically, the one thing I probably should’ve talked to her about, I didn’t want to talk to her about.
Levi.
I had no idea what was happening between us. The other day, he’d rescued me. He’d been the white knight I hadn’t even known I’d needed. And now, one thing was for certain—I couldn’t get him off my mind.
But for some reason, I just couldn’t talk to my sister about it yet.
I needed more time.
Time to understand it.
Time to figure it out.
Time to make sense of the strong feelings I’d so obviously developed for him, and time to see if he would turn on me again.