He’s so close that his body heat warms me. I glance up at him and then I put my hands on either side of his face.
“All I’ve ever wanted from you, Wyatt, is the truth. The ugly or the beautiful.” Rising onto my toes, I hug him tight. “Tell me the truth, please. I want to trust you. I need to trust you.”
He tugs me flush against him but doesn’t say anything, just breathes me in, his lips pressed in my hair.
Haven bursts in the door and stops short when she sees us. “Mom, Dad’s trailer is about five times nicer than ours.”
He draws away, but his hand seeks mine and squeezes.
“He always has better riders than me.” My senses are still tuned to Wyatt, to his smell, to his body heat, to the sensation of being pressed against him.
“That trailer is nothing,” he says. “Sometimes I get a three-story one.”
“Like a house?” Haven gapes.
“How is Stacy?” I interrupt. Haven doesn’t need the details on Wyatt’s sixty-five-page riders. When he and Isaac used to make them up, they sometimes got ridiculous. The person tasked with making sure he had only blue M&M’s, perfectly round, earned their money. He and Isaac held them up to the lights in the trailer, laughing at their roundness, their blueness.
“Nice, I guess,” Haven says. “Do I have to do my schoolwork? Can’t this trip be a vacation?”
“No.” Wyatt and I answer at the same time. I glance at him and smile a little. At least we’re in agreement on the importance of school.
“Is my real school going to care?” Haven puts her hands on her hips. Her bulky jacket is almost comical on her small frame.
“Your mom agreed to let you come if you could stay on track. It’s not negotiable, Short Stuff.”
“What were you guys doing in here?” Haven huffs and flops onto the closest couch.
“Talking.” Wyatt drops my hand and shoves his into the pocket of his jeans.
“Sounds boring.” Haven picks up the TV remote.
“I’m going back to my trailer.” Wyatt ruffles her hair on the way past. “You want to come play some games? I asked for gaming consoles, an iPad, a few other things I thought you might like.”
Her face lights up. “Yes!” She turns to me. “I mean, can I?”
“He’s your dad. You don’t have to ask my permission unless it goes against something I’ve already said no to.” I try to catch Wyatt’s attention, hoping he heard that too. She’ll play us off each other if she can. In the past, she’s tried her luck with me and Nikki.
Haven disappears out the door ahead of him.
“Wyatt.” His name is a last plea before he closes the trailer door. Be honest.
He stills and then turns. “I’m not giving you a reason to limit my time with her.”
“That’s not why I’m asking.”
“I’m sober. I’m not drinking. That’s the truth. Anything else doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me,” I say. “We can’t build anything on lies.”
“We’re not building something while you’re tossing other people between us like they matter. They don’t. You need to be honest with yourself. What we’ve got, you’re not finding that with someone else. Neither am I.” Wyatt’s posture is strung tight.
In ten years, neither of us has really moved on. Being dragged back into anything remotely close to the chaotic lifestyle we lived or balancing on the knife’s edge of tipping back into it won’t work for me. Every time I look at him, twenty minibar bottles lined up on a counter flash across my vision. If that’s controlled, I don’t want to see out of control. Until he tells me the truth about his drinking, until he can acknowledge there’s an issue there, we’re stuck as we are.
“I would never stop you from seeing her.”
“You already did, Ellie. For nine years. I’m not giving you a reason to do it again.” With that, he shuts the trailer door behind him.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Wyatt
Present Day
We’re halfway through filming and the frost between us hasn’t thawed. Haven’s amazing, but parenting is fucking hard. The first time she threw a temper tantrum, I was sure aliens had invaded her body. Her attitude changed on a dime. All these years, Ellie has dealt with her mood swings by herself. Well, she had her family but still, it’s incredible. Alone.
Hair and makeup are retouching us before we do another take. The movie scenes are shot out of order, which is normal. This is the first take on one of two endings for the film. In this one, Ellie’s supposed to run toward me, and I sweep her up into my arms and kiss her. I offered to rehearse this moment several times, but she turned me down.
The three of us have spent a lot of time together over the last six weeks. Anytime I try to see Ellie without Haven, she finds a reason to evade me. Phone calls, meetings, people visiting, conveniently timed. Her crafty scheduling would be unbelievable if she hadn’t spent ten years avoiding me with expert precision. In another life, Ellie commanded an army.
James, the director, is grumbling orders, and the crew duck away, out of the shot. Ellie is framed in the natural sunlight, and she’s surrounded by an ethereal glow. Takes me back ten years. Life should be that easy—get the right lighting, everything else falls into place. James calls out a few minor adjustments to the person in wardrobe who is fixing Ellie’s coat. Winter scenes aren’t as much fun as I remember. It’s absolutely freezing.
A frown creases James’s face, and with difficulty, he gets off his chair and ambles to Ellie. They engage in a back-and-forth discussion that has Ellie shooting me a worried look over his shoulder. I’m tempted to leave my mark to see what’s being debated. Just as I’m about to go, she gives James a pained expression and nods.
When James walks away from her, she calls out, “Can you tell Wyatt, please?”
He turns on his heel and strides to her faster than I expected. His wide, thick back is to me. What he’s saying isn’t audible, but his stiff posture sets me off. Ellie and I might not be getting along, but there’s no way I’m letting him treat her with any sort of disrespect.
I leave my mark and approach them. “What’s going on?”
“Minor change.” James half turns to me.
“If Ellie doesn’t like it, it’s not minor.” I’m taller than him, and I have no problem using my size for intimidation if he’s harassing Ellie.
“Sell it, Ellie.” James gives her a warning glance before turning around. “You’re being paid to make me believe.”
“Are you okay?” What the hell is he getting her to do?
“It’s fine.” Glancing up at me, she says, “And I’m sorry for what’s coming next. I—I tried to talk him out of it.”
“Come on, Wyatt,” James calls, back at his seat now. “I don’t want to lose the light.”
The light is excellent, so I’m going to let whatever he said to Ellie drop for now. I give him the finger, and I stalk back to my mark. With a roll of my shoulders, I try to relax and remember the point of the scene. Easy. I’m in love with Ellie’s character. She runs up to me, one line, one kiss, done. I can do this. Whatever note he gave her, I can improv. Wouldn’t be the first time a director tried to get an authentic reaction by doing something underhanded.
As soon as James calls action, a light flips on in Ellie. Her expression becomes one I used to see when she looked at me. She sprints to me and I catch her, swinging her around, and her legs circle my waist. We laugh, and I drink her in. I want to live in this moment, this false happiness. Doesn’t matter if she’s pretending. I’m not, and I smooth back her hair. “You came. Wasn’t sure you’d come.”
For a beat, she stares at me. Deep in her dark depths, the light dims a fraction. Her features soften before she says, “I love you. There’s nowhere else I’d want to be.”
My sharp intake of breath stills everyone on set. Three extra words seize my heart. The quiet is eerie. Fuck it. They don’t get this moment. It’s mi
ne. Blocking everyone out, I secure Ellie tighter, and our lips collide without hesitation. She kisses me like a woman in love—slowly, deeply, a kiss full of promise, a kiss that doesn’t end when a director calls cut. My heart beats a staccato, afraid to believe, wanting so badly to believe. I don’t want this moment to be fake.
“Cut,” James calls, laughing. “Yes!”
Ellie draws away, and we make eye contact before her focus slides over my shoulder. Bulky winter clothes or not, she must realize the effect our kiss has had. She slides along my body, and I keep her pressed tight. I want her to notice, to peer up at me again.
James claps us both on the back and whistles. “I knew you two had chemistry, but that’s the first time I’ve seen it combust on the screen. Whatever happened there needs to happen more.” Turning, he laughs and then shouts, “Fire. They were on fire!”
Ellie glances at me, a small smirk on her face. “Not the only thing on fire.”
“What can I say?” I grin and when she shifts back, I adjust my pants. “You have a way with words.”
“James said . . . I don’t want to mislead—” Her eyes are filled with uncertainty.
“I get it.” Grabbing her hand, I link our fingers. “But if that take ends up on the cutting room floor, I’m stealing it.”
“All right, let’s go again,” James calls out. “Everyone reset.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Ellie tells me she loves me over and over. There may be a special place in hell for James, our director. Listening to her say the words and knowing she doesn’t want to mean them is torturous. But kissing her over and over is worth the agony. By the time we break for dinner, my engine has been revving on high. I need an ice bath. And a stiff drink. One of those I can do, the other I cannot.
When I get to my trailer, Haven and Stacy are bundling themselves up in winter clothes. “What are you two up to?” I take off my coat. We have two hours before the lighting is right for the next shot.
“One of the crew mentioned there was a dogsled demonstration at the park entrance tonight. I was hoping to take Haven. Ellie said it was okay . . .” Stacy bites her lip.
She’s fallen into a habit of checking with both of us before committing to anything. Ellie and I were in a giant pissing contest when the shoot first started. We’re mostly beyond that now. “If Ellie said it was fine, then I guess it is,” I say. “Haven, you want to go?”
“I like dogs. Mom says she travels too much for us to get one. Aunt Nikki doesn’t want to take care of it.”
“Jamal loves dogs too. Maybe I’ll get one for my place.” Slowing my schedule has been on my mind. I could spend time getting to know my daughter, and I could help Anna stay on the right track.
“Really?” Haven squeals.
“Yeah, we can talk about it. I’m not saying right away, but I can make a dog work.”
A knock sounds on my trailer door, and I call for them to come in. Ellie enters and focuses on Haven. “I was hoping to catch you before you left.” She envelops Haven in a hug. Her lips press to the top of Haven’s head, and she closes her eyes. Calshae was right. Ellie’s a good mother. Responsive and caring. Everything Anna and I never had as kids. And what Anna still can’t give her son.
“Dad said we could get a dog.” Haven’s voice is an octave higher than normal.
“Did he?” Ellie’s expression is unreadable. She unzips her heavy winter coat but keeps it on. She must plan on avoiding me some more once Haven leaves.
“I said we could talk about getting a dog.” I wish Ellie would acknowledge me. After the day we’ve had, I want us to be closer, even if that closeness is artificial.
“We need to get going.” Stacy checks the clock on the wall. “One of the crew said the start of the show was the best.”
“Okay.” Ellie steps back, giving Haven space.
Haven grabs me into a hug before embracing her mom one last time on the way out the door. Ellie watches them go, ignoring me. Once they’re gone, I expect her to leave, but she doesn’t.
Slowly, the trailer grows thick with a tension I recognize too well. Today was a challenge for her too. The realization gives me a jolt of confidence.
“You okay?” I set my phone on the kitchenette table.
Ellie glances at me over her shoulder. “I should go.” But she doesn’t move.
The slant of her shoulders, the way she looks back tells me she doesn’t want to leave. I close the distance between us, and I run a hand along her side, letting it linger on her hip. “Something you need, Ellie?” I murmur into her ear.
Her breathing is ragged. She turns into my arms without saying anything, and my lips meet hers, hot and hungry. I lift her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist. With my hands cupping her ass, I press her against the wall of the trailer. She sheds her jacket with a few quick movements, tossing it to the side.
I’d resigned myself to blue balls after eight hours of foreplay. If she’ll let this happen, I’m going for it, even if we have unresolved issues. My dick is so hard it’s aching.
On the kitchen table, my phone rings, shrill and insistent. Ellie’s fingers grip the hem of my shirt, and she tugs it over my head. Her soft hands glide along my chest, and the noises she’s making are going to undo me.
Her shirt is gone, and I’m unsnapping her bra when my phone starts again.
The only time it rings back-to-back is when there’s bad news. I draw Ellie closer, deepening the kiss. Maybe if I pretend my phone won’t ring a third time, it won’t. Ellie snaps the button on my jeans, and my phone bursts to life.
“Important?” Ellie murmurs against my lips.
“Not as important as you.” My hand massages her inner thigh. She still has her jeans on, but her bra hangs off her, ready to fall to the floor.
When my phone kicks off for the fourth time, I sigh, easing Ellie’s legs to the floor. I snatch it off the table. “What?” Irritation and frustration make the word more of a growl than anything coherent.
“Sorry, sir. Anna’s taken off again. I’ve got Jamal here. He was asking for you. I’ve called Tanvi, but you like to be in the loop.” Kyle fires the information off in a rat-a-tat-tat.
Even from this far away, he reads my mood. I run a hand down my face. A burst of swear words almost escapes. Trust Anna to run out on her son while I’m in another country. When I’m there and able to talk her out of leaving, she’s somewhat stable. Once I’m on a shoot or a promotional tour, the question of Anna leaving is never if but when, and then the next uncertainty is how long it’ll take her to return.
“Uncle Wyatt?” Jamal’s voice is small across the phone line.
“Yeah, buddy. I’m gonna come get you. I’ll be there tomorrow.” My anger circles and drains. None of this is his fault. “You go to Grandma Tanvi’s till I get there, okay?”
“Okay.” Jamal’s high-pitched voice causes an ache in my chest.
How does Anna leave him? Then I remember I wanted a drink today, and there have been a lot of days in the last few months when taking a Perc or oxy or mixing a glass of lean have crossed my mind. I relapsed so many times before I got it right. Kicking drugs is not easy. When I hang up, Ellie’s dressed.
“Anna, again?” She grimaces.
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to my trailer. You probably need to talk to James.” She zips her coat.
“Ellie.”
“It’s probably for the best. Sleeping together wouldn’t have meant anything. We’d still be in the same place we are right now.”
“We don’t have to be.” I tuck my phone into my pocket.
“No? You’re going to be honest about your drinking?”
“I am being honest.” Since I left the island, I haven’t touched a drop. I might have had a drink today, though, if she wasn’t here; I’m not sure. I grab my shirt off the floor and slip it over my head. She’s still creating too many artificial roadblocks for us. Maybe she doesn’t trust me, but I don’t
trust her either. “I wasn’t drinking. How many times do I need to say those words before you believe me?”
She sighs. “Good luck getting Jamal. I guess my tutor-nanny will be working overtime?”
“Our tutor-nanny,” I say, an edge to my voice. Even now, she’s cutting me out as though I’m not part of these decisions.
She slams the trailer door behind her.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ellie
Present Day
Haven chases after a giggling Jamal, their feet slapping the tiled floor of Wyatt’s kitchenette as they race through. Jamal’s high-pitched, delighted laughter makes me smile. Having a playmate has been good for Haven, and having another buffer between me and Wyatt is a bonus. According to Wyatt, Anna will show up. In the last two weeks, there’s been no sign of her.
“Are you okay to watch them?” I ask Stacy, who is prepping some crafts for them in the next room. “I need to pop over to my trailer for a few minutes.”
“Sure,” Stacy says. “When is Wyatt done?”
“Not sure.” I throw on my coat, hat, and mitts. The walk is short, but the cold is bitter and the frigid wind biting. “They’re running behind.” I check my watch. My hair and makeup slot is coming up soon. “It’s going to be a late night.”
“Your sister arrives today?” Stacy lays out some more pom-poms, Popsicle sticks, and other crafty things.
“Tonight, yeah.” I swing open the door. “I’ll be back.”
Once I’m in my trailer, I shed my layers as fast as I can. My place is warmer than Wyatt’s. He must find mine tiny and stifling compared to his. Must be why we’re at his more often than here. A thin sheen of sweat breaks out on my forehead. Stress is taking its toll on my body. No temperature regulation, and I’m queasy.
On cue, my stomach rolls at the thought of making out with Wyatt again in front of a gaggle of crew members. A perfectly terrible night. Nikki will be here, so there’s zero chance of a repeat performance up against the wall of a trailer when shooting is done.
The kettle is boiling for tea when there’s a knock on the trailer door. Wyatt pokes his head in. “The kids here?” Without waiting for a reply, he steps in.
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