At First Touch (18 page)

And in the thick of the whole thing stood Quinn. She stood on the porch under the lights, sparkling and glittering, looking like the Hollywood star that she was. She was in deep conversation with Helmut. She had never looked more out of reach than she did at that moment.

His mother's rants, and even Dorrie's rants, raced through his mind. Wyatt clenched his jaw and forced himself to get out of the truck. He loved Quinn, and she loved him. Well, she hadn't exactly said that, but he knew she did. It was in her touch last night. Her sighs. Not even an actress could have pretended that.

Wyatt slammed the door, causing several people to stare across the yard, irritated at the unwanted noise. Quinn looked up, too. For a moment, their gazes held, and Wyatt waited for that glimmer of recognition. That smile that she had given him last night.

Quinn waved to him and started toward him, but someone grabbed her arm, stopping her. A tall man all in black clothes that marked him as an
actor
stood next to her. Quinn's face lit up with a bright smile, and she threw herself into the man's arms. He grinned and picked her up, twirling her around the porch. The two laughed together and began to talk animatedly.

“They descended like a plague of locusts about an hour ago,” Kendra muttered from behind Wyatt.

He turned to her and Charlie. He darted another quick glance at Quinn and her new friend then turned to the sisters.

He forced a smile and said, “Hello, ladies. I see the word has gotten out.”

“I thought you would have held out a little longer,” Kendra said, with a disappointed sigh.

He fought back a laugh, then said, “Sorry to disappoint.”

Kendra rolled her eyes in response. Charlie smiled at Wyatt and squeezed his hand. “Quinn should be done in a few minutes. They just want to finish up an interview and get Quinn's reactions to filming in her hometown.”

“This is not her hometown.”

“Filming in her hometown has a much better ring than filming in a shithole that Quinn hates and rarely visits,” Kendra said with a shrug, then yawned. “This is even more boring than I thought it would be. When is it going to be over?”

Wyatt ignored Kendra and tried to sound casual as he asked Charlie, “Who is that man all over Quinn?”

Charlie's amused glance told him that he had not been quite as casual as he had intended.

“His name is Vaughn Cotton. He's an old friend,” Charlie assured him. “Quinn worked with him on
Diamond Valley—
”

“Lots of hot, steamy closed bedroom door scenes between them,” Kendra added.

Charlie shot an annoyed glance at her, then said to Wyatt, “They worked together, and they're old friends. You have nothing to worry about.”

Wyatt glanced at Quinn once more. Now Vaughn was moving strands of hair from Quinn's face while she laughed. Giggled, actually. She was giggling.

“Who says I'm worried?” he muttered, more to himself than to Charlie.

“I do, cowboy,” Kendra said flatly. He glared at her, but she was staring at Quinn and Vaughn. She murmured, “I never noticed how cute Vaughn is, or how good Quinn and Vaughn look together. Even their names sound good together.”

“Kendra,” Charlie snapped.

“Well, it's true. I mean, they were voted America's number one daytime couple and didn't one of those stupid fan sites vote them for one of the sexiest love scenes—”

“Thank you, Kendra,” Wyatt said through clenched teeth.

“You wanted to know,” she said defensively.

“Not all of that,” he muttered.

“You have nothing to be worried about, Wyatt,” Charlie reassured him, while not so discreetly jabbing Kendra in the arm.

“I'm not worried,” Wyatt said.

And because he was not worried, he walked through the thicket of people and lights and cameras toward Quinn.

Wyatt walked up the porch and a cameraman stopped him, placing a hand in the center of his chest. “This is a closed set,” the man said, sounding irritated.

Wyatt stared down at the hand, wondering if he should break the entire hand or just a few of the fingers. The cameraman instantly removed his hand and stepped back.

“Wyatt!” Quinn said excitedly.

Wyatt shot the cameraman another hard look, then walked up the porch toward Quinn and Vaughn. Wyatt hadn't noticed how tall Vaughn was from across the yard. Vaughn towered at least two inches above him, and Wyatt usually found himself staring down at most men. Then there were his shoulders. Shoulders like that only came from intense time in a gym with a trainer every day.

Breaking through his thoughts, Quinn threw her arms around him and, more importantly, pressed her body against his, much closer than she had to Vaughn. That easily, Wyatt didn't care about Vaughn's shoulders or the muscles underneath his expensive clothes, because he had Quinn in his arms. And she wanted to be there.

“I'm glad you're here,” she whispered only for him to hear. She pulled back from him, but held on to one of his hands as she turned to Vaughn. “I want to introduce you to an old friend. This is Vaughn Cotton. He and I worked together years ago on
Diamond Valley.
”

Vaughn sent Wyatt a smile, with teeth bright enough to guide home a ship at night. “Quinn was the best thing that ever happened to that show. It hasn't been the same since she left. And the fans have noticed.”

Quinn beamed and playfully pushed Vaughn in one of his broad shoulders. Wyatt gritted his teeth.

“I just found out that Vaughn is going to be in the movie,” Quinn said to Wyatt, with excitement glittering in her eyes. “I didn't know until just now.”

“I just got the call from Helmut yesterday about this movie. As soon as he told me that Quinn was in the movie, I didn't need to hear anything else. I would pay them to work with this beautiful woman.”

“Vaughn, you're so full of crap,” Quinn gushed, obviously enjoying the compliments.

“I'm telling the truth,” Vaughn said, the picture of wide-eyed innocence. “I still blame you for my dating dry spell in New York while I was filming
Diamond Valley
. Every woman I went out with, I compared to you and, of course, they fell miserably short.”

Quinn giggled again, turning into Wyatt's chest. Wyatt narrowed his eyes at Vaughn, who shrugged in response.

“You're so funny, Vaughn,” Quinn said while shaking her head.

“Yeah, funny,” Wyatt muttered, then said to Quinn, “Can you leave? Do you want to grab dinner?”

Quinn looked hesitant as she glanced at Vaughn, then at the cameras and lights. Helmut was in the yard, berating another man who was practically quivering in fear.

She turned back to Wyatt, and he knew what her answer was going to be before she opened her mouth.

“I can't,” she said softly.

He told himself to nod in understanding and be an adult. Of course, he whispered, “Thirty minutes, Quinn. I haven't seen you all day.”

She placed a hand on his face and said regretfully, “I can't leave. We still have to discuss the shooting schedule and the revised script and meet the rest of the cast. Helmut even mentioned something about doing a read-through tonight.”

Wyatt clenched his teeth in response. She smiled and pressed a kiss against his unyielding mouth. “Don't be angry, sweetie,” she cooed. “I'll come to your apartment as soon as we get done here.”

“I'll see you tonight, right,” he said, hating his need to be pacified.

“I'll see you tonight,” she promised then kissed him again. A little too short and a little too sweet to be satisfactory, like a kiss she would give a chump who had won a date with her in some stupid radio contest. Wyatt felt effectively managed as she released his hand and gently turned him toward the porch steps.

He turned back to her, but she was already deep in conversation with Vaughn and Helmut. Wyatt clenched his teeth again and stalked toward his truck. Kendra and Charlie both stood right where he had left them.

“Don't say anything, Kendra,” Wyatt warned through clenched teeth.

For once, Kendra kept her mouth shut.

“T
his isn't
Diamond Valley
, Quinn. I need real emotion, not crocodile tears before the next Tide commercial,” Helmut roared.

Quinn ducked in her seat as every eye in the barn stared at her. And there were a lot of eyes. The cast and crew had spent all night preparing to begin shooting. Quinn had gotten about three hours sleep, then had shown up at the barn at the Forbes property the first thing that morning to read through the script with the rest of the cast.

The barn, which was usually filled with animals, was now filled with high-tech equipment, sawdust, wood and computers. The barn still smelled like hay and animals, but now also had the scent of fresh paint and sweat. But even with all the activity in the barn, Helmut's loud voice had carried enough to freeze everyone in their places to look at her.

Vaughn cleared his throat in the deafening silence and said, “How about a half-hour break, Helmut? My allergies need a break from all the hay and dust.”

Helmut threw down his script and glared at the actors assembled around the table. Taking that as their cue, most people in the barn quickly dropped their tools and walked or ran out of the barn.

Quinn quickly walked of out the barn, ignoring the sympathetic and amused glances in her direction. She tried not to break into a flat run to escape the gazes and, instead, quickly walked into the Forbes' house and headed straight to the guest bathroom on the ground floor, slamming the door. She slammed the lid on the toilet and sat.

There was a soft knock on the door. Quinn wiped at her tears and shouted, “The house is closed to cast and crew! Go back outside!”

“It's Vaughn, Quinn. Let me in,” Vaughn's muffled voice came from the other side of the door.

Quinn sniffed and opened the door. Vaughn walked into the bathroom and closed the door. She returned to the closed toilet lid.

“Don't let Helmut get to you,” he said gently. “You know he's all bark, no bite.”

“He's scared of you. He doesn't talk to you the same way he talks to me. He doesn't talk to anyone the same way he talks to me.”

Vaughn dropped to his knees until she would look at him. He took her hands and said, “He's harder on you because you're gorgeous. You intimidate him.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed dryly. “Usually your insincere flattery makes me feel good, but can it for today, all right?” She sighed heavily and planted her chin in her hands. “I just didn't think it would be like this.”

“What?”

“Making a movie. I thought it'd be…better. Fun.”

Vaughn shook his head in confusion, then said, with his million-watt smile, “I'm not being insincere, Quinn. You are gorgeous, and seeing you after all this time only reminds me what an idiot I was to let you slip through my fingers.”

Quinn instantly became uncomfortable at the sudden intensity flashing in his eyes. “Vaughn—”

His voice was gentle as he said, “Quinn, you have to know how I feel about you. You never returned my calls—”

She stood, uncharacteristically awkward, as she crashed into the counter. “We should get back to the reading. Helmut is probably ready—”

“Quinn, stop,” Vaughn said gently, standing. She stopped moving and stared at him. “You and I were great together on screen, Quinn. You can't deny that. I think we'd be even better together off screen. What do you think?”

She cleared her throat and said, “I'm seeing someone else, Vaughn.”

“The cowboy who was at the house yesterday,” he said with a slight smile.

“He's not a cowboy. He's a mortician. Well, actually, he's a gardener or, maybe, a landscape architect…I'm not sure what he calls himself, but he's not a cowboy.”

Vaughn appeared on the verge of arguing with her then shook his head dismissively and said, “I don't care what he does, or who he is. Helmut told me everything. You gave the cowboy—excuse me, the mortician slash landscape architect—a little taste of Quinn magic just to get the location, and it worked. You don't need him anymore.”

“It's not like that with Wyatt,” she said, shaking her head.

Vaughn smiled again and fingered her hair. “Of course it is, Quinn. I know that, everyone out there knows that, and you're beginning to realize it, too. Weren't you supposed to meet him last night?”

Quinn crossed her arms over her chest. “We were busy all night on set. I didn't want to wake him—”

“My advice is to pull the Band-Aid off quick. Don't let it linger.”

“I care about Wyatt.” She took a deep breath, then said something that she had never said in her life. “I think I love him.”

“I'm sure you do,” Vaughn said, sounding amused. “He's different than what you're used to. He probably still throws his coat on the sidewalk so you can cross puddles without getting your feet wet. But you're going to get bored. You know it. I know it. And the cowboy probably knows it, too.

“He's a cowboy, or mortician, or whatever. And you're about to become America's best actress. How long is he going to survive in a world like that? He almost attacked the camera crew because they told him not to come on the porch. What is he going to do to a paparazzo that sticks a camera in his face? You may as well end it now.”

“Don't pretend to know about my relationship with Wyatt,” she snapped. “You don't know anything about him, and you don't know anything about me.”

“My God, Quinn, do you think he's ever seen—let alone dated—a woman like you before?” he asked in disbelief. “You're just a trophy to him.”

Quinn rolled her eyes, ignoring the stab of uncertainty. “You don't know him.”

“I don't need to know him to know that he's pinching himself every day wondering how in the world he has a woman like you giving him the time of day.”

Quinn studied Vaughn's expression, the passion burning in his eyes. She had seen that expression on his face many times. On
Diamond Valley
, when he had been trying to act in a particularly emotional scene.

She crossed her arms over her chest and asked suspiciously, “Why do you care about my relationship with Wyatt?”

“I told you why—”

“I don't believe you,” she said simply. “I'm not your type. I can read and buy alcohol without a fake ID. Tell me what's going on, Vaughn. Now.”

He took a deep breath then admitted, “The phone hasn't exactly been ringing off the hook since I left the show.”

“You've been in a couple of movies.”

“Two movies. The first movie, I died in the first twenty minutes, and the second movie I was the third gang member from the right. My career is dying here, Quinn,” he said desperately. “I lied about Helmut calling me. I called him. I begged, I pleaded, I…I blackmailed him.”

“Now that sounds like the Vaughn I know and love,” she muttered dryly, then demanded, “what does this have to do with me?”

“Helmut's movie could be a huge commercial success, Quinn, but he wants to revel in the indie scene. About five people in America watch indie films, and none of those five are in the position to offer us multimillion-dollar film deals. But if you and I start dating, think of the press coverage we'll both get. The tabloids will love it, not to mention our old fans from
Diamond Valley
. Once we explain that we met on the set of
On Livermore Road
—due in theatres this fall—it'll create automatic interest in the movie. Studios have been doing these publicity stunts for years. Why not us? It'll be good for the movie, good for our careers. I don't see a downside to my plan.”

“The downside is it will be a lie.”

“As if you've never lied to the press before,” he said, then pointedly stared at her breasts.

“And I'm in love with another man.”

“You won't even remember his name once award season starts.”

“Kiss my ass,” she retorted.

“We don't have to take it that far, unless you want to,” he said, with a flirtatious grin.

She shook her head in annoyance, then stalked out the bathroom because she was actually starting to contemplate his plan. Vaughn had a point. It was one small lie. It didn't mean that she couldn't still date Wyatt, who would be in Sibleyville anyway.

She ran into Graham, who smiled when he saw her. His smile faded when Vaughn walked out the same bathroom.

“Excuse me,” Vaughn said to Graham, then nodded at Quinn before he walked down the hallway and out the house.

Quinn looked at Graham and the disappointed expression on his face made her feel momentarily guilty, even though absolutely nothing had happened.

“Graham—”

“I just stopped by to make certain you guys had everything you need,” he said stiffly. “It seems like you do.”

Without another word, Graham walked toward the front door and left the house. Quinn muttered a curse and started to go after him.

“Quinn, we need you out here,” one of the production assistants said from the other side of the screen door.

Quinn groaned in frustration, then ran out the house toward the barn.

 

Wyatt inwardly groaned as Boyd Robbins walked into the greenhouse. Boyd didn't just walk into a room. He swept into a room like a hurricane and destroyed everything in its path. And this morning, he apparently had decided to pick on Wyatt.

Well, he could try, at least. Wyatt had been in a foul mood since he had gone to sleep alone last night and had woken up this morning even more alone. Quinn hadn't even called last night. In fact, he hadn't heard anything from her since he told her that she could use the house. He didn't even count his visit to her house last night since he hadn't been able to get her alone and she had essentially brushed him off.

Instead of doing some of the jobs around town that he had been scheduled to do that morning, Wyatt had gone straight to the greenhouse. He did not want to see the I-told-you-so looks.

“I came for my wife's roses,” Boyd bellowed.

Wyatt set down the spade and walked across the greenhouse to the box of potted red and yellow roses he had prepared for Alma Robbins. He set the box on the table near the door, ignoring Boyd the whole time, then went back to the potted hydrangeas.

Boyd didn't touch the flowers. Instead, he stared at Wyatt. “I heard that your girlfriend dropped you like a hot potato as soon as you gave her access to the house.”

Wyatt told himself not to react, but then again it had been a hell of a morning. He glared at Boyd. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Really?” Boyd said in disbelief. “I think it's pretty simple. Quinn Sibley wanted something from you, would do whatever she needed to in order to get it, she got it and now she's thrown you away like trash.”

“As enlightening as this conversation is, as usual you have no idea what the hell you're talking about and, even more important, it's none of your business,” Wyatt said calmly even as he clenched the spade handle in his hand.

Anger flashed in Boyd's blue eyes, and he took several steps closer to Wyatt. “That's where you're wrong, Wyatt,” Boyd snarled. “Because I gave you more credit than you're worth, I based my decision to allow those people to film in town on your decision to let them use the mortuary. I thought your relationship with your mother would be worth more to you than a pair of tits—”

Wyatt instantly went toe-to-toe with Boyd and said through clenched teeth, “Shut your mouth, Boyd, or I'll shut it for you.”

The two men stared at each other for a moment. Boyd looked away first and made a show of picking up the box of roses. It was the first time that Wyatt had ever seen Boyd back down from a confrontation, but Wyatt took no pleasure in the scene. In fact, he felt like a bigger ass.

He dragged a hand down his face tiredly. He had just threatened the mayor of the town. And not only that, but Wyatt had known Boyd most of his life. Boyd was an arrogant ass, but he was well-intentioned most times. Wyatt could just imagine what his mother would say when she found out—and Wyatt had no doubt that his mother would find out.

“Boyd—”

Boyd whirled around to face Wyatt, the anger flashing in his eyes. “It's clear what path you've chosen, Wyatt, and that's too bad. I always thought you were one of the good ones in town. I had always hoped that Graham Forbes hadn't rubbed off on you. But, it looks like I was wrong about you. I just hope the town doesn't suffer too much because of it.”

Boyd walked out the greenhouse, using his foot to kick the door closed. Wyatt had to give it to the old man. He knew how to make a more dramatic exit than Quinn.