Take Two (9 page)

Her insides twisted at his endearment. “I can’t believe I blue-balled you again,” she muttered, mostly to herself.

“Again? Oh, yeah. That night…” His brow rose. “Now if you’re interested in paying me back…” His eyes glimmered with his tease.

They stared at each other for several heated seconds. Then he let go of the end of the measure. It snapped back into the metal compact Maddie held in her hand, but her eyes never left his.

Softly, he said, “Talk to me?”

She clipped the measure on her belt and chewed on her chapped lip, dry from the Colorado environment and the intense assault it had undergone earlier. She did owe him for leaving him unfulfilled the night they met. Of course she wasn’t expected to pay him back, but that evening with him…she’d had a really good time. She’d let loose in a way she never did, and though she couldn’t get involved with Micah Preston, she did appreciate the bold, sexy girl he elicited from her back then.

Maybe she could relive it just once more and return the favor at the same time. It might prompt him to leave her alone. An idea formed.

“Okay.” She couldn’t believe she was doing this—should she actually be doing this? “A bunch of the crew is going to the bar next to our hotel after wrap tonight. You’re welcome to join. Maybe we can talk there?”

“I’d like that.” He moved his mouth near her ear, his breath on her skin raising all the hairs on her arms. “Don’t be jealous,” he whispered. “If it’s convincing, it’s because I’m thinking of you.”

Her pulse sped up.

“Places!” Joe called.

Maddie started toward the camera, surprised that his words had relaxed her. Not enough to make him and her a possibility, but enough to get through the workday. “Just remember, Micah,” she said over her shoulder. “Paybacks are a bitch.”

She ignored his puzzled look as she rubbed ChapStick over her lips, smacking them deliberately for his benefit. Tonight, he’d understand. Tonight, she was paying back what she owed.

Chapter Eight

Micah vacillated about what time he should arrive at the bar. He didn’t want to seem too eager, and he knew the crew had at another hour of clean up after he was dismissed from the set at nine.

He decided to shoot for eleven, filling his time with a light dinner in his room while he ran lines, followed by a shower to scrub his makeup and the lingering scent of Heather Wainwright from his body. Not that Heather was unappealing. They had good chemistry, having hooked up a few times over the years. Now Heather almost seemed repulsive after he’d had the sweet taste of Maddie in his mouth.

Ah, Maddie Bauers. Thoughts of her roused his cock. He mentally repeated her name over and over while he took care of his hard-on in the shower, recalling her fingers in his hair and her firm breasts pressed against his chest.

Jesus, this woman had a hold on him. And, if he played his cards right, he hoped to have a hold of her too, preferably naked. Perhaps even later that night.

After he’d finished cleaning up, Micah dressed in tight dark jeans, a white T-shirt and a thin gray mid-sleeved button-down shirt. He met Fudge in the lobby and they hailed a cab to the Golden Well, the bar next to the crew’s hotel.

The Golden Well was brightly lit and crowded. Micah stood with his bodyguard near the door while he scanned the room, hoping not to be spotted by any fans. He preferred dimly lit restaurants and exclusive night clubs, and he felt awkward and exposed, but his resolve to see Maddie was not diminished.

Fudge seemed to share his displaced feelings. “Why are we here again? You never hang with the crew.”

“I should try something different.” He hated the way Fudge’s words made him sound snobby. Really, it was the nature of the business—different call times and jobs on set—that created different social circles for production crew and actors.

Fudge shook his head. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

“No. Not at all. Who?”

“Fuck, Micah. Just bang her and get it over with.”

Micah frowned. “I’m not going to bang her. God, don’t be so crude.” Banging implied hard and fast, and though Micah imagined some of that with Maddie, he was also counting on long and slow.

“You’re pathetic.”

Micah turned his attention back to the crowd. “You don’t have to be here. I gave you the night off.”

“What else am I going to do?”

Micah spotted the back of a brunette head—hair pulled into a neat, high ponytail, and knew it was Maddie. His breath caught as she turned to—what? Look for him?—and their eyes met. She was so beautiful. He could stare at her face for hours.

“Isn’t that the A.D. over there?” Fudge didn’t realize Micah had already seen them .

There were a dozen or so people sitting with Maddie, but Micah didn’t register any of their faces. “Yeah, it’s her. Them.”

He moved toward where she sat in the back of the bar as if pulled by a string. He vaguely sensed the recognition of a couple of people as he passed their table, heard the hushed whispers that often accompanied his outings.
“Isn’t that the guy in that superhero movie?” “Isn’t that Micah Preston?”
But he ignored them, his full attention on the lovely woman in front of him.

As he got closer, she smiled, and Micah’s dick twitched. He couldn’t remember the last time a girl turned him on so easily.

“Well, look who’s here,” Joe said, not hiding his surprise.

Greetings passed through the group. Micah recognized a handful of them—a couple of P.A.s, the sound crew, Bruce from lighting. In all they occupied a circle booth and two tables.

The petite, punky sound technician—maybe her name was Claire?—was the only one to give him pause about the appropriateness of his presence. “Wow. Are we being graced with the company of ‘the talent’? What made you decide to join the lowly likes of the crew?”

“I hear you have the best parties,” Micah said smoothly.

“Right you are.” She lifted her beer. “Good to have you.”

“Good to be here.” Chloe. That was her name. And she preferred to be called the Sound Goddess, according to her introduction at the first cast and crew meeting. Fudge took the empty seat next to her.

“Hey, Fudge. Micah.” Sam raised a hand in greeting.

Micah glanced at the boyish P.A. sitting next to Maddie in the booth, much closer to her than he needed to be. “Hi…Shawn, is it?”

“Sam.”

“Aw, sorry. That’s right,” Micah said unapologetically. “Mind if I sit?” He gestured to the empty space at the end of the booth across from Sam.

“That’s where Leila was sitting, but I think she left already. Didn’t she?”

Micah didn’t know who Leila was, but several members of the group affirmed that she had indeed left. He nodded, stealing a glimpse of Maddie’s bosom as he sat. She had removed the button-down shirt she wore earlier over her tank top, giving a much improved view of her goods.

“How did you know we were out tonight?” Sam asked, after Micah had gotten the waitress’s attention and ordered a Guinness. “Not that you’re not welcome. Just the crew said the actors didn’t usually come out.”

“I don’t usually. But I was invited.” He wanted to brag that it was Maddie who had extended the invitation, scream it across the bar, but he didn’t need gossip to spread through the crew about he and the leggy brunette.

“I invited him,” Maddie said, not seeming to care about the rumor mill. “Beaumont had me running lines today, can you believe it? No offense, Micah—”

“None at all.”

“And it just sort of came up.” She stopped, blushing, and Micah wondered if she was recalling, as he was, what else had come up between them earlier that day.

“Beaumont’s got his head up his ass,” Joe said, possibly already drunk. “I’m sorry he did that shit to you. You’re too damn good at your job to be expected to waste your time on that fucking shit. No offense, Micah.”

Micah raised a hand to say it was okay and focused on Maddie’s response.

“It’s fine. Whatever.” Maddie blew it off, but he could clearly see it bothered her.

“I can’t believe Beaumont doesn’t respect you more,” Sam offered. “Doesn’t he realize you’re qualified to be running the camera? Why aren’t you a camera operator, anyway? You have the resume for it.”

Envy squeezed Micah’s chest. He wished he knew these things about Maddie. He wished he knew these sorts of things about anyone. He rarely got close enough to anyone to learn what they were good at, what their dreams were.

Maddie sighed. “Camera’s not my end goal.”

Micah stilled, remembering again the night they’d met. She’d wanted to direct and write, was it? Though he was curious whether or not she still had that dream, he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Those were the kind of jobs that a guy like him could arrange for a girl like her. And he didn’t want to put himself in the position to be taken advantage of. Again.

But Sam asked. “What do you want to do?”

Micah braced himself for her answer.

But she didn’t give one. She just shrugged and said, “Not camera.”

Micah forced himself to relax. Why did he always have to be so distrusting? Just because he’d had a past girlfriend—someone he thought he loved—use him for his connections didn’t mean that all women would. But how could he ever get close enough to a woman to test that theory out?

He couldn’t. That’s why he didn’t try.

And he wasn’t trying now. He was simply fooling around with a coworker, something he’d done many times before. He bided his time, drinking his beer and enjoying the crew banter and talk about their real lives. Particularly, he focused on the angel in front of him, realizing that this unique venture into her world provided more insight about who she was as a person than any encounter he’d had with her so far. Before long, he determined she was a workaholic, unappreciated by her boss and exceptionally passionate about her craft.

He also recognized that she wasn’t the type to hook up with men she barely knew. This awareness both delighted and saddened him. He wondered why she’d made an exception for him. And would she be willing to do it again?

Only one way to find out. At a lull in the conversation, he put on his best smile and said, “So, what are your plans for the day off tomorrow?”

“I’d love to find a way to Breckenridge.” Maddie leaned back, giving an even better view of her amazing tits. A bit on the small side, but definitely real—a nice change from what Micah was used to. “The Breckenridge Film Fest is going on this weekend. I’d like to catch it.”

“That’s not even a film festival,” Joe said, his words slurred. “It’s a festival of crap. It’s like a fake film festival of crap.”

Maddie laughed. Damn, it was the sweetest sound Micah had heard in a long time. “I know. But I like film. Period. You never know when you’re going to find a gem.”

Micah grinned. “Agreed.” Hitting California film festivals used to be a favorite pastime of his. Now he couldn’t remember the last time he went to anything indie. “I got my current agent from the Topanga Film Festival.”

“
The Mission’s Warrior.
Like I said, a gem.”

He was impressed and in awe. Not many people had ever heard of that early film of his, let alone seen it.

“It had its weaknesses,” she continued. “Mainly, the script. The directing was solid and the cast was really strong.” She blushed. “In my opinion, anyway.”

Her pink skin and sweet praise stirred his hardened cock. He wanted to take her, right then and there, no care for everyone around him. But he’d settle for a day at the film festival. He’d rent a car and it would be just the two of them, sharing their love of movies. He’d ask her as soon as they were alone.

“I’ll take you,” Sam said. Every muscle in Micah’s body tensed. “Breckenridge is beautiful and only a couple of hours from here. I’d love to show it to you.”

Micah resisted the urge to punch him.
Say no, Maddie,
he willed silently.
Say no.

But Maddie’s face broke into a grin. “Really? Thanks.”

“Awesome. We can work out the deets before we leave. Right now I want to get in a game of pool before Chloe heads out. She thinks she can beat me. But she totally can’t.” He slipped out of the booth and called to the next table. “Did you hear that, Chloe Barfoot? I’m gonna whoop your ass!”

Chloe stood and marched over to him, her small frame barely reaching Sam’s chest. “Like hell you are. It’s on.”

“This I gotta see,” Fudge said.

Micah frowned as Sam looked down and grabbed his beer. Micah couldn’t be certain but he was pretty sure that Sam was sneaking his own peek at Maddie’s bosom.

“Come cheer me on?” Sam asked, leaning on the table.

Now Micah was certain. Sam was totally looking. Who wouldn’t sneak a peek? Maddie’s breasts were excellent—firm, round, perky—and if Sam was sneaking peeks tonight, God knows what he’d try to do to them tomorrow. Micah couldn’t stand the thought. As soon as he could get a damn minute alone with her he’d tell her not to go. Though now she’d likely follow to the pool tables to be the douchebag’s personal cheerleader.

But she surprised him. “I’ll cheer you from here.”

Micah didn’t bother to hide his satisfaction.

After a moment of shuffling and gathering beer bottles, most of the table had dispersed to watch the game.