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Authors: Christina Brunkhorst

Torn (12 page)

BOOK: Torn
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Chelsea’s face was a riot of color, her conflicting emotions dancing across her face, shame and horror making her brown eyes nearly black. “What have I done?” she whispered, staring with wide eyes at Tyler. “What did we
do
?”

Tyler opened his mouth, but for once, he couldn’t find the words to describe what he was feeling. On the one hand, he was astounded at what had just happened… He’d just made love to a woman
literally
while a film crew recorded the event for time immortal. It was a first for him. He had never ––
ever
–– done that before… Not even for private home movies with his wife.

On the other, he was dismayed with what had happened… not because it did, but because of
how
it did. And then there was guilt. He’d just betrayed his wife –– or more to the point, Chelsea’s husband –– and damned if he didn’t feel better than he ever had in his life. Every muscle in his body felt relaxed, fulfilled. He felt as though he could lie, boneless, in that bed forever.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Julie approach, positively beaming. “Julie’s coming this way,” he said softly, and panic entered Chelsea’s eyes, adding to the already present confusion, guilt, and borderline hysteria.

“Go,” he whispered, giving her hand a secret squeeze. He leaned over and picked Tina’s robe up from the floor.

Chelsea took it from him and slipped into it, even as she rose from the bed and
ran
–– there was no mistaking that fact –– from the set.

Julie’s brows rose as she plunked herself down on the edge of the mattress. She looked at her friend and employee, the look in her leonine eyes turning from joyous to suspicious. “I was going to congratulate all of us and offer a celebratory drink at the bar down the road, but now, I’m wondering just what the fuck is going on here?”

Tyler closed his eyes, rolling over and sitting up. Still eyeing him askance, Julie handed him the thick, terrycloth, cranberry robe that one of the costume staff had brought over once the scene was over. He shrugged into it, avoiding his friend’s sharp gaze.

“Come on, Ty. I’m not stupid. What the fuck is going on? Why don’t you make it easier on yourself and just spill.”
Tyler closed his eyes at his friend’s choice of words, and bit the inside of his cheek.
“Why is Chelsea so freaked? She did great.”
“I think she’s embarrassed,” he mumbled, still not looking at his best friend.
“Why?”

“Come on, Jules. She’s never done a love scene before. Why do you think?” He cocked his head, his blue eyes troubled as he took in the now empty set. It was just the two of them.

“Oh, no… You
rose
to the occasion, didn’t you.” Julie started to smile, amused, but at the look in her buddy’s eyes, shrugged instead. “It happens. In fact…” a brow rose, and her lips twitched. “Chelsea played it off quite well. Nothing to be ashamed about. I thought you two discussed this possibility already.”

“We did. It’s still overwhelming… Even for me.”

“I’ll bet.” Julie's eyes narrowed, and her eagle stare swept over him, noting how he was fidgeting with the sheets, not quite meeting her gaze. She held the “see-all, know-all” posture for a minute, then shrugged again.

“Whatever. The scene is done. Thank God. Now I’m charging you with finding her and bringing her out to join us for a much deserved drink.” The director stood up and stretched, then grinned as she faced her friend once more. “You might want to take a shower though –– you reek of sex. What’d you do, shoot a load?”

Laughing, Julie started to walk away, completely missing Tyler’s stricken expression, when she stopped, and faced him again. “And see that she wears those shorts! I’ve got to see those with my own eyes!”

 

~ *~

 

She was gone. Tyler found that out from the very same guy who started the rumor that she’d made a pass at him. Tyler quelled the urge to smash his fist into the jerk’s face and instead made a point of telling him that it wasn’t true. Chelsea did
not
make a pass at him.
“Sure, Ty. Whatever you say.”
And with that, Tyler knew the man had already spoken to the tabloids regardless of the strict confidentiality clause in each employee’s contract.

Groaning aloud with frustration, he ran a hand through his still-damp hair. Taking that shower had been a mistake. He should have waited until after he’d talked with her. Calling himself every kind of low-down-dirty dog, Tyler climbed into his pickup. There was no way he was letting this day end without talking to her.

 

~ *~

 

Chelsea’s hands shook as she read the directions on the box for the second time. Here she was, thirty years old, and she’d never used a douche before. Having stopped using the Pill after Grace was born, she and Jake relied solely on timing for their family planning. Not having a more reliable birth control hadn’t bothered her; she would welcome another baby… a brother or sister for Faye and Grace… But she hadn’t figured on
this
happening.

While it was doubtful that she was ovulating, it was still possible. Her cycle had been oddly off the last month, probably due to the new stress of ducking tabloid reporters and paparazzi. They’d become a recent
annoying
fixture in her life since she took on the role of Ty Benson’s wife, and one she could certainly do without. Whatever the case, her menstruation cycle was not being cooperative. Pregnancy could be possible. Especially with God’s sense of humor. She hoped that douching would shrink the odds of conception even tighter.

For a brief, panicked moment, she contemplated emergency contraception before rejecting the idea. She knew she could buy some at the local family planning clinic. Ethically, and by law, the place was required to abide by a patient’s right to confidentiality. Even so, she lived in SmallTown, USA, in which everyone knew she was married to Jake Morgan, and most likely knew she’d never set foot in the family planning clinic before.

With her newfound fame as Ty Benson’s movie wife, people who knew her would wonder why, since everyone knew Jake’s job afforded them exceptional healthcare. There were volunteers at that clinic who could certainly use the money offered to them by the tabloid reporters that now hung out in town, especially with jobs being so difficult to come by. Temptation to conveniently forget their confidentiality agreements would be heavy.

Or maybe
, chirped the perky seventeen-year-old version of herself that sat on her right shoulder, smoothing one tiny hand over Ty Benson’s autograph scrawled across her denim clad backside,
you
want
to have Ty Benson’s baby. Just
imagine
what that would be like
.

With a growl and her middle finger, Chelsea flicked the little imp off her shoulder, but even the dogs’ barking couldn’t mute the teensy bitch’s feral laughter.

Dogs barking? What
now?

Irritated to the point of anger, Chelsea set the package down next to the sink and walked out of the bathroom. She glanced out the window and momentarily froze. Oh, lord. Why was he here? She felt guilty enough for making love to a man not her husband… but on
camera?
Inwardly, she cringed. It took a
special
kind of hooker to do that… And apparently she’d discovered a new calling. A “career” in Hollywood indeed.

 

~ * ~

 

“Chelsea?”

Tyler jumped down from the rig, petted the dogs absently as they came running from the dog door to greet him. “Chels?”

She was avoiding him. There was no way she could have missed the racket the dogs put up at his arrival… Unless… She was in the shower… Or… His breath caught at the mental visual of Chelsea’s body wet and steamy under running water, and he tripped over one of the dogs. He caught himself before he fell and cursed as the door opened.

“Chels?” His voice was almost a whisper, and his heart broke at seeing her standing so dejected in the doorway.

She sighed, walking back into the house, and Tyler followed, inadvertently closing the door in Kemah’s inquisitive dog face.

“I feel sick, Tyler,” she said so quietly that he had to strain to hear her. She turned around to face him, and his heart sank. “It’s one thing to be seventeen and to fantasize about it… But I’m not seventeen anymore. That I could do such a thing… Jake…”

The mention of her husband’s name made Tyler wince as though she had struck him. Chelsea’s lips tightened; she’d seen the action. “If it makes you flinch when I say his name, how do you think
I
feel? What kind of
wife
am I? Making love to another man while cameras roll for a film that’s going to be shown
internationally
? What the fuck was I
thinking
? I am some
spectacular
kind of whore!”

In a blink, Tyler was across the room, taking her by the shoulders before she could turn away. Self-loathing and self-disgust rolled off of her in waves. It was clear by her state of undress and the faint sound of running water that she’d about to get in the bath; he could make out the faint scent of their shared passion… Triggering memories that aroused him all over again, in spite of their current situation.

“Chels––“

“I’ve got to destroy that film, Tyler.” Chelsea looked up at him with earnest brown eyes. “No harm, no foul, right?” She grimaced. “Well, at least no witness––“ She tore her hands from his grasp and rubbed her temples. “What am I saying? I’m out of my goddamn
mind
… Jake is gonna be so pissed––“

“Chels, listen to me.” He reached for her hands, but she kept them stubbornly crossed under her breasts, so he grabbed her shoulders again instead. “Jake doesn’t have to know.”

Her frown was instant and deep. “What do you mean, ‘Jake doesn’t have to know’? I
have
to tell him. He has a
right
to know… He didn’t… He didn’t sign on for
this
.”

Now it was Tyler’s turn to frown. What was she talking about? A pre-nup? “You don’t have to tell him, Chelsea. What happened between us…” He paused, searching for the words. Should he turn it into ‘no big deal’? Even though claiming so would be a bald-faced lie on his part? Should he be honest with her? Tell her that he’d never done such a thing before, and that he was in love with her? What would be the right thing to say? To do?

“–– Jennifer would do.”
“What?” Tyler’s frown deepened.
“I asked you what you think Jennifer would do,” she repeated.

Oh, Christ. Jennifer. Tyler’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. Jennifer suffered through those months of marriage counseling in order to “keep up appearances”. His lack of discretion –– to say the least –– would prick her pride. If nothing else, she’d want
him
to suffer because of the blow to her ego.

“Truth, Chels? Jen probably wouldn’t even care. Besides, Jake and Jennifer don’t have to know. It was a… We were swept away in the moment. It was
acting
. Acting taken too far. Nothing more.” The look on her suddenly ashen face made Tyler want to kick himself. But at the same time, his heart rejoiced: She
cared
!

“Chels, sweetheart…” The endearment slipped out quite naturally and he froze, waited to see if she noticed. When she said nothing, he rushed to continue, “I didn’t mean that. How it came out…”

She shook her head quickly. “It doesn’t matter.” The pinched look around her mouth said otherwise, but he didn’t push it.

“Look. You ask Julie for that film, she’s gonna want to know why. Technically, it isn’t even her film, but the studio’s. Do you want to tell her why? Because she won’t just hand it over for no reason. Then of course, she’ll have to re-shoot the love scene––“

Chelsea’s sigh sounded like a woman damned to the furthest corner of hell. “You’re right. I don’t want to tell her why… And I
don’t
want to shoot that scene again.”

“I’m clean,” he burst out. Serious lack of finesse, Tyler. “You?”
Serious
breach of finesseness. How in the
hell
did you get the rep of a ladies’ man?

She glared at him, knowing exactly what he meant. “Yes!”

“And you’re on birth control?” As if realizing how that sounded, he rushed to explain. “It’s just that I noticed Faye and Grace are three years apart, and with Grace now three and you
not
being pregnant… I mean, you haven’t said anything about
trying
to get pregnant, just that you’d love more kids… Were you?”

In a state of disbelief, cheeks stained crimson, Chelsea shook her head. For
that
to happen, she and Jake would have had to make love in the
traditional
sense. She was
not
about to share with Tyler the fact that while she and Jake had made love, lately it’d been more of a
parallel
love-making as opposed to a
together
love-making. It was as though Jake was deliberately avoiding entering her, almost ensuring for himself that she
wouldn’t
get pregnant. Whatever. There was no reason to involve Tyler in her family’s drama. It was her betrayal, her consequences… if there would be consequences.

Tyler gave her a smile that, to her, seemed almost disappointed. But that didn’t come as a surprise –– she knew by now how much he wanted to have children. “Then no harm done… But are you and I okay?”

They still had a few more scenes to shoot together, she reminded herself. That’s why he was concerned.
I just dove in over my head… As usual
. Not his fault that she had a knack for jumping into empty swimming pools. Her answering smile trembled, but it was genuine, even as she fiddled nervously with the belt of her dark green bathrobe. “Of course, Tyler.”

“So… Are you up to going out tonight? Julie wants to buy us some drinks at The Jailhouse. To… um… celebrate…”

Chelsea arched a brow. The Jailhouse was a redneck biker bar on the… less
pristine
part of town. A part of town that had it been in New York City, would have been known as the Lower East Side, or better yet, Alphabet City. Leave it to Julie, a black lesbian, to want to party there. Without warning, she laughed, then looked surprised at herself for laughing, and laughed again, harder. What the hell. In for a penny and all that. She nodded.

BOOK: Torn
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ads

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