Marry Me at Christmas (Fool's Gold) (13 page)

She laughed. “Does the dark side have a cape? Because that would be really cool.”

* * *

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. Madeline checked in with Isabel, who teased her about being snowed in and promised to lock up Paper Moon. Madeline heated the lasagna for dinner and was pleased that her rolls turned out. Jonny opened a bottle of wine for them from his cellar. At about seven-thirty the power went out. They sat in the dark for twenty seconds, then the generator kicked in and the lights were restored.

After cleaning the kitchen, they took a plate of her cookies and headed for the media room.

“I’m very excited,” she admitted as they walked down the hallway. “Do you have your awards on display?”

“No awards,” he told her, leading the way through a double door and flipping on lights.

“I know you’ve won something,” she insisted. “I read about it somewhere.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever awards there are I keep in my manager’s office. Annelise is a much better steward of those kinds of things.”

She took in the large room. There was a big black leather sectional facing a huge television. While she couldn’t see any speakers, she had a feeling Jonny owned a sound system that could make the house shake. Oddly enough, he also had a record player and a stack of old vinyl records on a small table in the corner.

Instead of artwork, he had framed movie posters on the wall. Not his, but posters from old movies from the thirties and forties. On the back wall were built-in shelves filled with hundreds of DVDs.

“Nice,” she said as she set down the cookies and crossed to the collection. “What don’t you have?”

“Nothing I was in.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “I don’t need to see what I did. I’m not egotistical enough to have to watch myself. Besides, my movies are like cotton candy. They dissolve in water.”

“You’re not giving yourself enough credit. Your movies are a great escape for people. They have fun. They remember them and quote the lines.”

“It’s not Shakespeare.”

“You do know that his work was considered trashy back in the day?”

Jonny raised an eyebrow. “Look at you, all sassy with the literary references.”

“I know things.”

“Yes, you do.” He stepped closer. “It’s interesting how we both make memories with what we do. Mine are fleeting, but what you do lasts a lifetime. Every bride remembers her wedding gown.”

Madeline thought about how Ted had always tried to make her feel bad for changing jobs so many times. How she’d always felt embarrassed for not being sure about what she wanted to do with her life. Even now she sometimes wondered if she’d been wrong not to finish her degree.

Only she loved her job, loved being a part of Paper Moon. She loved that she was buying her way into the business. Although she didn’t need Jonny’s praise, it was kind of sweet to hear.

“You’re really nice,” she said impulsively. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

He laughed. “People describe me in a lot of ways, but nice isn’t one of them.”

“Ginger thinks you’re nice.”

“She’s my sister. She has to.”

“She doesn’t and maybe it’s because she knows you best.”

He started toward her, then stopped a foot away. For several heartbeats his dark green eyes gazed at her, then he turned and pointed at the shelves.

“You get to pick tonight. Anything you want.”

A movie they would be watching together? In the snowy quiet? She hoped for the six-hour A&E version of
Pride and Prejudice
, but settled on a movie from the 1950s called
Summertime
.

“Excellent choice,” Jonny said, taking the DVD case from her. “Smart and sexy, with a strong female lead. Considering the time it was made, a single woman alone in Italy who goes on to have an affair with a married man was considered pretty dangerous stuff.”

“How can you know the plot?”

“I’ve seen it. I’ve seen every movie here.” He motioned to the hundreds of DVDs. “For me, it’s research. Why did one story line work and not another? What technique are the actors using? What can I learn from them?”

“Do you ever just relax and watch the show?”

“Tonight I will.”

She sat down while he loaded the DVD. When he joined her, she hoped he would settle close, but he kept a respectable distance between them. Darn and double darn.

Soon she was caught up in the beauty of Venice and the growing flirtation between Jane and Renato, and although she really enjoyed the movie, she couldn’t seem to forget about the man sitting on the same couch. She was aware of his presence in the dim light, of how he sat so quietly. When they both laughed when Jane fell in the canal, she found herself wanting to shift a little closer. Just to be near him.

“Jane should have stayed,” she said when the movie was finished. “They could have worked it out.”

“He wasn’t going to leave his wife, and she had a life back in Ohio.”

“A sad, lonely life.” They walked down the hall toward the kitchen. “You’re right, though. I would never tell a friend to give up everything for a guy. Certainly not one who was married. But they were so good together. Maybe he’ll go to Ohio and they’ll live happily ever after.”

He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “It’s no surprise that you’re a romantic.”

Was he dismissing her? Was that a dismissive comment? The kiss was sadly fraternal, she thought. Here she was, snowed in with a sexy guy she had a mad crush on, and he thought of her as his baby sister. Or worse. He should have been swept away, yet there he stood. Completely unswept. Life wasn’t the least bit fair.

“Thanks for the movie,” she said as she put the leftover cookies into the elephant cookie jar. “Good night.”

“Night.”

She told herself not to hesitate. That if Jonny wanted to make his move, he was fit and agile and could certainly chase after her down the hall. Even though she walked as slowly as she could, nearly lingering at every step, he stayed in the kitchen. There was no plea for her to rip off her clothes, or let him rip off her clothes. In fact, there wasn’t any conversation at all. Just the quiet of her footsteps on the carpet and the sad, lonely beating of her silly, girlish heart.

Madeline closed the guest room door behind her and crossed to the bed. She sat there for a second before drawing in a breath and vowing that when the wedding was over, she was going to have a long look at her romantic life—or lack thereof. She was going to figure out why she fell for guys who weren’t available and what she could do to change. Because she didn’t want to end up like Katherine Hepburn in
Summertime
—a middle-age spinster with no one to care about. She wanted what her parents had, what Robbie had had. She wanted love and marriage and kids. She wanted it all.

But until Ginger’s wedding, she was going to have to deal with her crush and the knowledge that wanting wasn’t the same as having. And wishing didn’t make a man see you as the girl of his dreams.

* * *

Madeline stared at the bound pages in front of her. She hadn’t known what to expect when Jonny had asked her to look over a script. She’d never seen one before.

“I thought it would be digital,” she admitted, fingering the paper.

“I’m old school. I read books made of paper and I want my scripts the same way. I can make notes in the margin.”

They were in the family room of his house, still snowed in. Although the storm had passed, the roads weren’t close to cleared. Rosalind had texted earlier that morning to say most of downtown was closed. Madeline had agreed on keeping the store shut. They didn’t have any appointments and it was close enough to Christmas that everyone would be focused on their holiday plans. Isabel was staying home, as well. No doubt kept there by her loving and concerned husband.

Which left Madeline staying with Jonny for yet another night. So far they’d had breakfast, then he’d gone to work out in his superfancy gym. While he’d offered to let her come along, she’d refused. She would have loved to watch him sweat, but didn’t know how to say that without sounding like a ridiculous groupie. And having him watch her pant her way through a very beginner walking program on the treadmill was not her idea of a good time.

They’d had lunch and he’d asked if she wanted to look at a script he was considering.

“What’s it about?” she asked.

“Read it and find out.” He glanced away from her, then back. “I’d like to know what you think.”

There was something in his tone. She couldn’t define it exactly, but if she had to guess, she would say he was unsure. About the project?

“Okay, sure. I’ve never read a screenplay before.”

“The formatting takes some getting used to. You can ignore the stage directions. Just read the dialogue. Pretend it’s an audio book.”

She nodded and settled on the sofa. Within a couple of pages, she was caught up in the story of Dean Woodley, a guy from the wrong side of town who was determined to make it to the top. Through a series of unexpected events, Dean found himself fostering three street kids who were desperate for connection and guidance, even as they stole from him and nearly got him arrested for drug dealing.

The story was gritty and funny and, when one of the boys was killed in a drive-by shooting, devastating. Madeline read until the end, when the two remaining boys graduated from high school and Dean won the girl. Then she went back to the beginning and read it all again. When she’d finished for the second time, she looked up to find several lamps on and Jonny watching her from the other end of the sofa.

“You’re crying,” he said as he handed her a tissue.

“Am I?” She wiped away her tears. “What time is it?”

“Nearly six.”

“I read all afternoon? I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I asked you to read it. What did you think?”

She hugged the script close. “I loved it. I’m usually a fast reader, but it took me a while to get over all the stage directions, or whatever they’re called. This is such a great story.”

She thought about
Amish Revenge
and all the other movies he’d starred in. Each of those characters had been a variation on a theme. Dean Woodley was completely different. “Are you thinking of doing this?”

“I don’t know. I want to. Annelise thinks it’s a good idea but then she’s always seen more in me than I do. It’s not what my fans expect of me.”

“That’s not a bad thing.” She put the screenplay on the coffee table. “I don’t know how the business works and I don’t think I could tell a good screenplay from a bad one. What I can say is this was compelling and interesting.” She smiled. “I like that he gets the girl at the end.”

“Of course you do. You sell wedding gowns. Happy endings matter to you.”

“To you, too. Are you worried that it’s not a Jonny Blaze movie if you don’t kick some bad-guy butt?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t in this one.”

“I think people would be okay with that.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate your opinion.”

“Why?” she asked, before she could stop herself.

“You have good taste. You’re honest.”

Couldn’t she be sexy instead? She held in a sigh. She would accept that she was the golden retriever of women in his life and try to be happy with that.

“We need to think about dinner,” she said. “Do you remember which casserole I took out this morning? I think it was tamale pie. That’s going to be great. There’s enough salad left from last night, and cookies. Because it wouldn’t be a good dinner without cookies.”

She paused, waiting for Jonny to say something. Instead, he stared at her. She had no idea what he was thinking. It could have been anything from him silently counting the minutes until he could finally take her back to town to a deep desire for peanut butter cookies. What she didn’t expect was for him to slide the few feet separating them, gather her in his arms and kiss her.

His mouth was warm and gentle, with the most delicious hint of wanting. At least, that was what it felt like from her end. Of course, she was so incredibly shocked that she could have been wrong about all of it.

Still, his lips on hers felt nice. Right. And his hands moving up and down her back were great, too. Madeline had no idea what was happening, but somehow that was okay. Because if a girl had to be confused, then having that happen in Jonny’s arms was the best place for it to be.

She let her eyes sink closed and her body relax. She gave herself over to the feel of his mouth teasing hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned forward and surrendered to the heat building up inside of her.

When he brushed his tongue against her bottom lip, she parted right away. He eased inside. At the first stroke of his tongue against hers, flames ignited all over her body. Even though she was sitting, her thighs began to tremble. Wanting grew. She thought about how alone they were and how incredibly comfortable the sofa was. She thought about the fact that it was practically Christmas and she hadn’t bought herself a single thing. Could one magical night with this man be her gift from her to her?

He deepened the kiss. She tangled with him, liking the way they found a rhythm that set her blood to bubbling. He slipped one hand from her back to her side. From there it went up and up and—

He drew back. “I’m sorry.”

She managed to blink.

He stood up and walked to the other side of the room. “Madeline, I’m sorry. I gave you my word. I promised nothing would happen. That you were safe here. It’s just...” He swore under his breath.

She didn’t catch the exact words, but she got the general idea. Far more interesting was the, um,
proof
that she hadn’t been the only one affected by what they’d been doing.

She told herself to look away, that it was rude to stare at a man’s erection. But she couldn’t help herself. Because she liked him and knowing he liked her back was really cool. Plus, the bulge was impressive.

“You’re not listening,” he said.

She returned her attention to his face. And while it was a very nice face, the hard-on was far more intriguing right now.

“Madeline, this is serious. I said nothing would happen.”

“Last night,” she blurted. “You said nothing would happen last night. And it didn’t.” She had the chagrined heart to prove it.