Читать книгу Wild For You - Debbi Rawlins, Debbi Rawlins - Страница 8

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ERIN MURPHY TURNED onto Main Street and nearly had heart failure. How could a small, isolated Montana town have changed so much in three months? Blackfoot Falls didn’t have a single traffic light, but the new steak house’s flashing pink neon sign could probably be seen from Mars. Early-bird specials written with black marker on colored paper covered half the window. But she could live with those, misspellings and all. They lent to the charm of the quirky town.

She drove past the newly opened motel that had been under construction when she’d first discovered Blackfoot Falls. Erin would’ve preferred the modern building wasn’t there, but she had taken it into consideration when she’d made a deal with the mayor, so no sweat on that front.

A small bakery now occupied a formerly empty storefront. Nothing flashy, so that wasn’t too bad. Next to it, the Full Moon Saloon was new, too, but it had a cool vibe to it that could probably work in her favor.

Maybe.

Whatever.

She’d make it work. She had to.

The whole reason Erin had returned was to fix something she’d failed to do the first time around. Now she had another problem to solve...before the director had a stroke.

The independent film for which she’d been scouting locations was on a tight budget. She’d counted on those buildings being empty. It was a lot cheaper to stage than change.

All she could do for the moment was breathe. And hope the mayor had made allowances for the deal she’d made with Erin before leasing out the buildings. Sadie Thompson was a reasonable woman who’d understood that the group’s pockets weren’t deep, and a modest fee was better than nothing. Quite a few scenes would be shot around the quaint little town, later, in December.

Luckily, Erin made it to the other end of Main Street without encountering any more surprises. She checked into The Boarding House Inn with its restored turn-of-the-century rooms and interesting woodwork. Thank God nothing had changed since her last visit.

She dumped her duffel bag in the narrow closet and sent off a few texts. Thirty minutes ago she’d been looking forward to a much-needed nap. Now she wondered if it would be better to go snap some pictures of the new storefronts and send them to the director right away. Jason would pitch a fit no matter what, but at least she’d be giving herself more time to smooth things over.

On the other hand, she wouldn’t be at her best, being this sleep deprived. She stared out the window and tried to relax. She smiled, though, seeing the cheesy Halloween decorations on some of the buildings.

Her cell rang, and it was Lila, of course. Even though Erin had just texted her friend that they’d talk later.

“So, you’re in Blackfoot Falls. That was fast,” Lila said. “When are you going to see him?”

Erin knew him meant Spencer Hunt, the reclusive, unreasonable, ill-tempered rancher who had thrown her off his property the last time she was here. He was also hot as hell. But Erin had never let a man’s looks excuse him for being a jerk.

“This afternoon.” Erin yawned. “After I take a nap.”

Lila snorted. “We’ve been best friends since third grade. You think I can’t tell when you’re faking a yawn? You just don’t want me coaching you on how to approach Mr. Tall, Dark and Mysterious.”

“For one thing, coaching and butting in are not synonymous, and second, you’re losing your touch because that yawn was real. I left Wyoming at 4:00 this morning.”

“I was up early myself. We were shooting by 5:15 and freezing our behinds.” Lila lowered her voice. “Jason’s on a tear, cussing out everyone within hearing distance. Nothing’s going right. The film is now officially over budget, and half the crew is ready to mutiny.”

“So everything’s normal.”

“Pretty much.”

Erin rubbed her tired eyes, glad she could still find some humor in the situation. “Well, I guess that settles it. I have another small snafu and was trying to decide when to tell Jason.”

“Oh, no.”

“It’s not that big a deal, but it could cost a few bucks.”

“Yeah, now isn’t the time to bring it up.”

Erin sighed. “I need to do more digging first.”

They both had a lot riding on the indie film. So did Jason Littleton and two other friends, who’d thrown in their savings and were working their asses off for practically no money, all in the hope their modern Western would get noticed and launch their careers.

Erin and Lila had met the gang in film school, all of them full of dreams and plans to conquer Hollywood. For six years, Erin had willingly tackled every industry-related job that came her way. Like playing location scout and convincing people to allow footage to be shot on their land, sometimes in their homes.

She negotiated the fees, drew up contracts and arranged for the permits and insurance. She’d even chauffeured big shots from major studios and picked up their laundry. Just waiting to get her foot in the door. Because what she wanted more than anything was to make her own movies.

“Have you been listening at all?” Lila asked.

“Nope. Is it important? Because I seriously have to grab some sleep.”

“Look, you need to listen to me. Jason really has his heart set on filming the final shoot-out on that mountain your guy owns. He’ll forgive just about anything else but that. So if I were—”

“Screw Jason. I gave him two alternate locations. Really good ones. If Hunt doesn’t want us on his property, there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

Lila waited a moment, then said, “You’re the most persistent, driven, goal-oriented person I know. You’ll convince him. But since you already know he’s not motivated by money—”

Erin groaned. “Don’t say it.”

“It won’t kill you to wear some makeup. Maybe do something with your hair.”

“I asked you nicely...”

“And for heaven’s sake, don’t wear that big, stupid Doctor Who T-shirt.”

Erin glanced down. “Which one?”

“Come on, Erin. Just treat it like a role you’re playing. Smile. Be charming.”

“You’re the one who wants to be an actress, not me.”

“I’m just saying...” Lila paused when someone called for her, but returned quickly. “We’ve both done some crappy jobs to get this far. Using a little sex appeal won’t kill you. As for Jason...he isn’t behaving any worse than most directors.”

“Yeah, and we’ve always said we wouldn’t be like those jerks.”

“I know.” Lila sighed. “It just feels like we’re really close this time.”

“We are,” Erin said. “I feel it, too.”

Lila chuckled. “You always do. The eternal optimist. I wish I could be more like you. I really do.”

“You, my friend, are perfect just as you are.”

“But not pretty enough to nab a decent role.”

“Come on, Lila. You just said we’re close.” Erin didn’t like her friend’s resigned tone. She was just tired. Everyone on location was living out of suitcases and in drafty trailers with lousy beds. “We’re going to kill it, and for the sequel, I’ll get the assistant director’s slot and you’ll get a supporting actress role.”

“Fingers and toes crossed,” she said. “They’re calling me. I have to go. You still have the list I gave you, right? And the makeup and heels?”

“Yep.” Erin shook her head. She was the wrong person to convince Spencer Hunt to change his mind. Lila should be here instead of doing hair and makeup for that prissy Penelope Lane, who was playing the lead role.

Natural blonde Lila was gorgeous. Anywhere outside of Hollywood, she was an easy ten. And with his dark hazel eyes and his perfectly chiseled jaw, so was Spencer Hunt. Still, Erin would’ve liked to see him try to say no to Lila.

Sighing, Erin found the checklist along with the bag of her friend’s good intentions, dumped the contents on the bathroom counter and shuddered. Lots of stuff she didn’t recognize. Good thing Lila had included what to wear and makeup instructions on the list. But adding a reminder for Erin to be charming... Really?

Oh, Jesus.

She thought again about Spencer and swallowed. He was going to laugh at her. Or worse, think she was pitiful. But if pity got him to sign on the dotted line, she could live with that.

* * *

DUSTY POKED HIS HEAD into the barn. “You expecting company?”

Spencer looked up from the vaccinations he’d laid out for the twin colts. He’d lived outside Blackfoot Falls for ten months now and barely knew a dozen people. His choice. Against his objections, Dusty had followed him from Boise, but the main reason Spencer had hired the kid was so he could avoid going into town. It hadn’t stopped the nosy questions on the few occasions Spencer had picked up supplies himself, but he’d learned to deal with those.

“Nah, I didn’t think so,” Dusty said without waiting for a response. “I’ll take care of whoever it is.”

He turned back toward the road, then stopped, squinting hard and scratching his blond head.

“Problem?” Spencer asked.

“That lady from Hollywood drove a weird turquoise-colored car, didn’t she?”

Erin Murphy was back? How long had it been? Two...three months? Spencer strolled over to have a look for himself.

“Folks in town have been buzzing about that movie they’re gonna start filming soon,” Dusty said. “But no one said anything about her coming back.”

“Her name’s Erin.”

At the sound of his voice Dusty jumped. “You might wanna step back some so she can’t see you.”

Spencer shook his head. “You finish pitching hay. I’ll talk to her.”

“You sure about that?” Dusty looked disappointed. “I don’t mind telling her you aren’t here,” he said, pushing a hand through his shaggy hair, trying to tidy it up.

He’d been taken with Erin on her first visit and assumed she was an actress. She’d laughed at the idea, implied she wasn’t pretty enough. When Dusty had asked what was wrong with those guys in California, Erin had blushed and changed the subject.

Spencer had thought about the spunky brunette a few times since that day. He couldn’t say why for sure. The simple and most logical explanation was the lack of sex in his new life. Even though his eleven-month dry spell was self-imposed, he missed the warm soft body of a woman beside him. Not enough to give up his privacy. But maybe it was time to take an overnight trip out of town. Not to Idaho. He had no plans to return home anytime soon. If ever.

If not for last night’s hard rain packing the dirt road, her tires would’ve been kicking up dust. But it was easy to see the odd-colored car. He knew for sure it was Erin before she turned onto the gravel driveway and veered left to avoid a mud puddle. He’d meant to fill in holes and grade the drive before the snow came.

“Do you think she’d go out with me?” Dusty asked. He hadn’t moved, and Spencer hadn’t noticed until now.

“You’re nineteen,” Spencer said, hiding his surprise. “She must have ten years on you.”

“Things like age don’t matter nowadays. And she doesn’t act like one of those stuck-up Hollywood types, or I wouldn’t even think about asking.” Dusty dragged his gaze away from the car and studied Spencer. “I didn’t think you were interested.”

“I’m not. Ask her if you want.” Spencer almost added that he shouldn’t get his hopes up, but, hell, the kid technically was an adult. He just seemed young.

Spencer had no room to judge. His own immature arrogance had torn him from everything he’d loved and put him right here in this isolated little corner of Montana. And he’d been thirty-two at the time. No, he wasn’t about to make the mistake of getting in Dusty’s way.

They watched her park closer to the house and the stone walkway that led to the front door. Spencer didn’t think she’d spotted them. She was too busy doing something in her car.

He grabbed his hat off the worktable. No sense waiting for her to come to him. He figured he knew what she wanted, and the answer was still no. She didn’t even have to get out of the car.

“Hey, wait,” Dusty said. “You’re not gonna chase her off again, are ya?”

“If I have to.” He heard the kid muttering something, but Spencer kept walking. Sure, he’d admit he wasn’t unhappy to see her. But he prized his privacy and solitude above everything else. That wouldn’t change.

She opened her door, swung two long bare legs out and planted a pair of red high heels on the ground.

Spencer’s heart lurched in his chest and somehow cut off his supply of oxygen. Anatomically that was impossible. He knew that better than most people. But that knowledge didn’t put his equilibrium back to rights.

Stopping a few yards away from the car, he folded his arms across his chest and watched her stand. Her short denim skirt hit her just about midthigh. What he wouldn’t give to take a nice, leisurely look, but as it was, he couldn’t even swear the woman was Erin. His gaze hadn’t made it up to her face yet.

After a brief glance at her close-fitting red sweater, his gaze lingered on her mouth, on the row of straight white teeth biting into the plump flesh of her bottom lip.

He seemed to recall that her eyes were brown. But he couldn’t see them with her lashes lowered, head bent, her long dark hair falling forward and hiding half her face. She seemed more interested in the soft ground than in him. Wise move. If she wasn’t careful, she’d get those skinny heels stuck in the mud.

“Erin?”

She glanced up. Smiled. “Mr. Hunt,” she said, hanging on to the car door when she wobbled. “Hello. Nice to see you again.”

“I can’t imagine why you drove all the way out here,” he said. “We have nothing to talk about.”

“Well, I must admit...” She tilted her head slightly to the side, her smile changing to something sultrier. “I was hoping you’d changed your mind.”

Tensing when she took another shaky step, he lowered his arms to his sides. “The only reason I came out here was to save you the trouble of getting out of your car.” He glanced pointedly at her feet.

“Yeah, I never should have worn these heels out here. But I have an appointment right after this, so...” She gave a slight shrug, the pull of the sweater drawing his attention to the swell of her breasts.

He couldn’t let that distract him. “Then you might as well be on your way,” he said and watched her smile slip. It came right back, though.

She didn’t just look different; she sounded different. Her sigh was soft, not filled with impatience and frustration like it had been when he’d first turned down her request to film on his land. And if she’d worn makeup before, she’d applied it with a much lighter touch. While she hadn’t gone overboard, her high cheekbones appeared more prominent, and there was a slight sheen to her lips.

Looking past him, her smile widened suddenly. “Hi, Dusty,” she called out with a wave, still clutching the car door.

When she took an unexpected step forward, Spencer automatically offered his hand.

She blinked at it and then was about to accept his help but said, “Wait.” She turned around and reached for something inside the car.

The way she bent across the seat made Spencer think she wasn’t used to wearing skirts. He told himself not to look, but he did. Only for a second before he turned his head. He hoped Dusty hadn’t seen his brief moment of indiscretion. Spencer didn’t care for the fact that the kid considered him a mentor, but how he felt about it didn’t change anything.

Erin backed up and stood with a folder in her hand.

Probably a contract. Wouldn’t happen.

He shook his head, tempted to let her fend for herself if she insisted on being stubborn. But good manners ingrained from the minute he learned to talk wouldn’t allow it.

Again, he offered his hand, and she didn’t hesitate to take it. Her palm was smooth and soft but not as silky as most of the women he knew back in Boise.

“You couldn’t have picked a worse place to park,” he said, trying to ignore the sweet scent of her skin.

“I see that.” She took another step, her fingers curling around his knuckles. Her hand was small, but she had a strong grip.

Spencer took a shallow breath. “Look, why don’t you get back in the car and—”

Erin gasped.

She pitched forward, digging her nails into his wrist.

He looked down and saw that her left heel had sunk deep into the rain-soaked dirt. She tried pulling it free but only managed to step out of the shoe.

“Oh, God.” Mud oozed from between her toes. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

Spencer could see she was beginning to lose her balance. “I’ve got you,” he said, keeping hold of her hand and putting an arm around her waist. “If you can just move a few inches to your right—”

The folder slipped out of her hand. She tried to make a grab for it, and he tightened his arm around her just in time to save her from a face-plant. But then she unexpectedly scrambled for the paperwork again, and all control was lost.

In the next second she was sitting in the mud and gravel, muttering curses under her breath and glaring at him as if everything was his fault.