Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I swung my legs out of the bed and stood. There was no point dwelling. The past was in the past, and that was where it would remain. There was no going back.
I pushed down the swell of sadness that made me feel as I headed to the shower to get ready for the day.
I didn’t see Oliver for the next few days. He was gone when I woke up, and he headed upstairs when he returned late in the day. I heard him above me, moving around. Caught the timbre of his voice as he spoke with someone on the phone. I knew his ringtone now. The first time I heard it, the memory it jarred from me was almost painful. It had been one of our favorite songs growing up. We’d sing it loudly every time it came on the radio. Oliver used to dance to the catchy tune. Our moms would laugh and dance with him. I always watched him, fascinated, first as a kid with how funny he was, then later as a teenager, awestruck by how lithe and graceful he was when he moved, thrilled that he was mine.
I found a bag tied to my door handle that morning, the empty pie plates inside and a small note.
Delicious pie.
Almost as delicious as your mouth.
I want more of both.
Oliver
I stared at it as I drank my coffee, confused and anxious. I had thought endlessly about that kiss. How right it felt to be in his arms again.
How dangerous.
I sighed as I looked over the backyard, my thoughts rampant.
Getting involved with Oliver Hart again would be a colossal mistake. He was only here for a short time. Then he would head back to his life in Hollywood and, once again, I would be without him.
The practical, perhaps hornier side of me told myself I was an adult now. I could separate physical want from emotional love. Maybe a wild fling with Oliver was what I needed to get him out of my system once and for all. Replace the fantasies of our young love with reality. Take him off the pedestal I used to have him on and see him as simply a man. One who would annoy me. Who probably picked his teeth and emitted noises that would frighten animals. Maybe he snored now. Or dropped his clothing everywhere and left dirty socks and underwear on the floor.
Maybe sex with Oliver was what I needed to humanize him.
I laughed at the craziness of my thoughts. Apparently, the horny side of me was willing to go to great lengths to convince myself to hop into bed with him.
The grown-up, realistic side knew it was a bad idea.
One I had to forget—no matter how tempting it was.
Oliver
Pushing my hat off my forehead, I wiped the sweat from my brow. I jumped off Rusty, the horse I was riding, and headed over to Davis.
He looked pleased, staring at the monitor. “You’re a natural. These shots are perfect for what I wanted.”
“Great.”
“The cast arrives on set tomorrow. Read-through is scheduled the next morning. We’ll start filming right away.”
“Awesome. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too. This is a great place to film. No gawkers or paps.”
I nodded. “I have to admit, the freedom is incredible. I work out every morning at the gym, and nobody stares at me or tries to take a sneaky picture. I get coffee, grab a bite to eat, and no one blinks twice. I’ve only been asked for my autograph once, and it was by Sadie,” I said with a laugh. “Her sister is a fan.”
Davis crossed his arms, looking around. “Good folks around here. The people we called up for extras are excited. Well, all but one.”
“Oh?”
He nudged his baseball hat out of the way of his eyes, meeting mine. “Your Kassie turned me down when I called. Said she wasn’t comfortable.” He studied me. “I wondered if it were you asking if the response would be the same.”
“How did you get her number?” I demanded.
He laughed. “She asked me the same damn question. She’s on the supplier list. I thought if I extended a personal invitation to appear on camera, she’d say yes. She’d be incredible on film, I think. She has no idea how pretty she is, does she?”
“No,” I replied shortly. “Ego is not a thing for her. Never has been.”
“There’s history between you.”
“Ancient. One she wants to remain in the past. As deeply as it will go.” I took a drink of water. “Even if I don’t want the same thing.”
I thought of her almost-panicked reaction to our kiss the other night. How she turned and ran as if I would chase after her. Part of me wanted to, but I stayed in place, letting her go. She was skittish, like a spooked horse. She needed gentle handling, not brute force. But I had a feeling she wanted neither from me.