Chapter Thirteen
Jude should have known from that smile that he was in trouble.
He stood on the roof, trying not to squirm as the harness beneath his clothes chafed in unmentionable places. “Are you sure you aren’t trying to kill me off?” he called to Ginny, who stood on the platform below where he would be landing, blocked from the cameras’ view by the bulk of the house.
She grinned up at him, her expression lighter than he’d seen it since she discovered who he was. “You’ll never know until you jump. Do you trust me?”
“I thought we were supposed to be establishing that you can trust me.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Trust goes both ways, buddy.”
He eyed the edge of the roof—he was technically “falling” from the highest eave to the inflated stunt mat on the second story deck below him, but the camera angle would make it look like he’d plummeted much farther.
“Relax,” Ginny called to him as the stunt coordinator adjusted the mat. “The worst that will happen is you land wrong and pull something. I’ll be right here to make sure you don’t go rolling off if you have too much momentum.”
He grimaced. He’d known this was a low budget film, but that didn’t seem like a job for a leading lady. “Isn’t that someone else’s job?”
She grinned evilly. “I volunteered.”
He groaned. She would be within her rights to let him fall. Payback was a bitch and he certainly deserved it. He studied her face—the sparkling eyes, the wicked grin. “Would it help if I told you I think I’m falling in love with you?”
She laughed, the sound bright and half-startled. “You think that’s going to save you?”
“Love conquers all?” he asked hopefully.
She laughed again, the sound reaching inside him and making him want to smile—if he wasn’t standing two stories up and trying not to panic. “Go jump off a roof, Jude Law,” Ginny called.
He glanced at the stunt coordinator as his stomach plummeted. “Now?”
The petite woman gave the safety rig one last tug. “Klein will cue you, but yeah, we’re all set here.” She moved to gracefully drop over the edge of the roof to the deck below, out of the shot.
Alone on the roof as a stiff breeze kicked up and made him sway, Jude swallowed down a sudden surge of nausea and returned his gaze to his grinning spotter. “Have I mentioned I hate heights?”
She laughed—that bright, delicious sound—right as Klein called out, “Action!” through his loud speaker.
Jude froze, every muscle locking into place as his instincts screamed at him that jumping off a roof—even a short jump to a mat below with a harness beneath his clothes to keep him from plummeting to his death—was a very bad idea.
He wasn’t a stunt man or an action hero. He liked to stay fit, but he was a nerd, thank you very much, and nerds did not jump off roofs. At least he didn’t.
But then he looked down into Ginny’s upturned face, her eyes glowing, her smile challenging, everything about her inviting him to jump, and he muttered, “Aw, shit,” under his breath.
And jumped.
He’d been coached on how to fall when they were on the ground—it had to look like the roof was collapsing out from under him, not like he was leaping to his death. He’d practiced until the director was satisfied that he could sell it—but selling it on the ground was different than selling it from three stories up. He didn’t have to fake the very unmanly yelp as the mat seemed to rush up at him—
Then the squishy softness of the mat enveloped him and he grunted. Alive. That was a good start.
He rolled over—and there was Ginny, standing over him. “Please tell me they got that,” he groaned, hoping she couldn’t see how fast his heart was racing.
“We got it. Way to go, champ. You saved the movie.” She reached a hand down to help him up. “You sure you don’t want to do that three or four more times? Make sure we got it just right?”
He gripped her hand, but instead of using it to pull himself out of the squishy mass of the mat, he yanked, tumbling her down on top of him. “No, thanks,” he growled as she fell against him.
She twisted against him until she could see his face. “You make a pretty good stuntman, you know. In case you were considering a career change.”
“I was thinking more screenwriter. Leave the stunts to the professionals.”
Her brow flew up. The left one she always arched at him.
The way she challenged him, the way she fit him, hit him harder than the fall to the mat and his heart pounded again for a different reason.
“You’re really quitting the tabloid biz?” she asked.
He knew he should answer. Knew it was important. But he couldn’t wait any longer.
He reached into her hair, cupped her nape and pulled her down for a kiss.
And—thank God—she let him.
Her lips were soft and sweet against his as she melted into his arms and the missing pieces of his life slipped into place. Nothing had ever felt as right as Ginny Jones in his arms.
Several minutes later, the hoots and cheers from below reminded them that they were still in the middle of a film set. Ginny sat up from the depths of the mat, waving to their audience with cheeky flair.
“I am, you know,” he said to her back as she waved. “Falling in love with you.”
She gave him a look over her shoulder, skeptical and arch and so damn sexy he wanted to kiss her all over again. “You’ve known me for two seconds.”
“You think I don’t know you enough to love you? I know you, Genevieve Jones.”
Her grin tilted sideways. “Oh yeah?”
“You’re strong and compassionate—”
She snorted. “That’s what all the tabloids say about me.”
He cringed. “I’m sorry about that.”
Her expression softened. “I know you are.”
“See? That right there. You’re amazing. Do you know how hard it is for mere mortals to let things go and move on? But you’ve done that. You didn’t let anything stop you. You didn’t wallow in the unfairness of what happened to you or feel sorry for yourself—”
“Oh, I did plenty of that.”
“But then you moved on. You see the beauty in things—even in the worst situations—and you never, ever give up. I am in awe of you, Ginny Jones.” He reached for her. “And I’m crazy about you.”
Her wry gaze had softened during his speech. She bit her lower lip before admitting, “I’m pretty crazy about you too.” Then that wryness was back. “Against my better judgement.”
“I’ll take you any way I can get you.”
And then he did reel her in for another kiss.
When she pulled away, she cocked her head, as if something had just occurred to her. “You know, we might be terrible in bed together.”
He gasped in mock horror. “Bite your tongue.”
She laughed—bright, delighted and free. So incredibly Ginny. No longer holding back. “We’ll just have to practice until we get it right.”
He grinned. “I can support that plan. We may need lots and lots of practice.”
“Oh, lots. We’re both over-achievers.”
He just grinned wider.
He’d never thought of his life as particularly fun, but with Ginny… oh yeah. This was going to be fun.