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Outside the Lines

Page 8

by Anna Zabo


  Before I could tell him he should probably get out of bed, he pulled me to him and kissed me. For a guy who was pretty submissive in bed, Simon could be awfully damn dominating. Though, eventually, I ended up on top of him, our cocks sliding together, like during the previous night, except this time Simon’s hands were free to wander and roam and clench my ass when he thrust up against me.

  “Don’t have much time.” I spoke between kisses and groans.

  “For this we do.” A sexy whisper in that morning voice of his.

  My bed, my rules—right out the window. I gave in and we tangled, thrust, and moaned into each other until we both came hard against each other. What a hell of a way to wake up.

  After a fast shower, we were back in my car and heading toward town. I’d drop Simon off at his place so he could grab a fresh set of clothes, then head to the shop. Except . . . Simon’s bike was at End o’ Earth. “Hey, how are you getting to work? Your bike’s at the shop.”

  “I’ll grab Lydia’s bike—we ride the same model. She’s got a bike rack on the SUV, so we can get both home.” His voice was lethargic, but so full of joy. “We need to do this again.”

  I focused on the road, because if I gazed at him, I’d run into a damn tree. “Yeah. We hardly ticked anything off my list.”

  His chuckle was soft. A moment later, he sat up. “You’ll want to take the next right.”

  Simon gave me directions that bypassed the main drag of Bluewater Bay and had us over where a bunch of craftsman-style two-stories had been built not too far out of town, probably from the heyday of the logging industry.

  “That one there, with the blue trim.”

  Bright blue, against a gray that reminded me of rain. It seemed like the kind of house a nice happy het couple would have, except Simon wasn’t het at all. While I didn’t know how I felt about being the third wheel to this not-het couple, after last night, I wanted to have as much fun with Simon as I could until I did know. “Nice house.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He leaned in, and I met him in a kiss that would probably raise the neighbors’ eyebrows. “See you in a few.” With that, he hopped out of the car and headed up the path to the front door, and I pulled away from the curb.

  Before I got to End o’ Earth, I stopped at Stomping Grounds, got myself a coffee, and picked up Lydia’s favorite drink again. It was the least I could do.

  The barista probably still thought I was buttering Lydia up. If she only knew. “Is that all?” Her hand was paused over the cash register.

  “Umm.” She’d been the one to tell me the other day that Simon liked his coffee super hot. “Do you have a travel mug or something that’ll keep a cup hot enough for Simon?”

  She lowered her hand and peered at the mugs. “You know, there’s this new one that’s supposed to keep drinks blazing hot for up to four hours.”

  “Let’s give it a try.”

  I left Stomping Grounds with a little paper carrier for mine and Lydia’s coffees, and a bright blue high-tech travel mug full of the hottest coffee they could legally sell me. Couple minutes later, I rang the doorbell at the back of End o’ Earth while standing where Simon had knelt and sucked me off last night.

  Weird. So weird. Stranger still when Lydia opened the door and beamed at me. “God, Ian, you don’t have to bring coffee every day!”

  “I really do.” We were both laughing as if everything were normal and wonderful . . . and maybe it was. She took the carrier and eyed the travel mug while we walked out to the front of the store. “It’s for Simon,” I said. “The barista said he likes it hot.”

  A sly smile. “Yeah, he certainly does.”

  I nearly tripped. “Uh— Well.” The heat in my face was intense. “Yeah.”

  Damned if Lydia’s smile wasn’t sunshine too. How the hell did they do that?

  “I asked Jesse to come in a little earlier if he was free, to give you and Simon additional time this afternoon. I know you need to get that finished.” She nodded over toward the set.

  That was nice of her. “I do. Thank you for that.”

  She took a sip of her coffee. “Dude, I understand deadlines. Probably more than Simon does.”

  I put Simon’s mug down and finally scored a pull of my own coffee. It was warm and earthy and wonderful. “How’s your work going, anyway?”

  “It’s good.” She fiddled with her cup. “I wish I could show you, but . . .”

  “Hey, I know all about intellectual property and non-disclosures. The only reason I can build the set here is that everyone’s seen the grove already. I do wish I could see some of your stuff, though.”

  She stood straighter. “Really? I could show you my comic. Or some fan art.”

  I perked up. “Sure!”

  A few minutes later, I was in her studio at the back of the shop and wow, Simon hadn’t been kidding about the comic. What I saw of it was awesome. Lydia had an incredible sense of story and layout, and the art was top-notch. “You need to get that out in the market.”

  She grinned up at me.

  Since I knew her not-so-secret passion, I smiled back. “Got any Wolf’s Landing stuff?”

  Blush to high heaven. Bingo. I knew she had to have some fan art of the show.

  She cleared her throat and spoke. “Yeah.” She was using one of those drawing tablets and the pen slid across the surface. “But don’t tell anyone.”

  “Eh, they’re okay with fan stuff, as long as no one sells it, you know?”

  She nodded, and a moment later I was looking at an image of the characters of Wolf’s Landing done up in the style of an ’80s movie poster. Yeah. Lydia could draw. She had the actors down pat. I saw those folks pretty often and what was before me was them. Then my eye honed in on something else and I croaked. “There’s a rune on the altar.”

  “Yup. It was added at the end of last season, during the mid-season finale.” She peered up at me.

  Oh shit. There wasn’t a rune on my altar. Or on the plans. Or the photos the production manager had given to me. “You . . . sure?” My voice sounded shaky. I took a sip of coffee and hoped she hadn’t noticed.

  Of course, she had, given the concern in her voice. “I can show you screen caps . . .”

  She navigated to Fandom Landing, the most popular of the Wolf’s Landing fan sites and logged in. In a forum dedicated to screen caps, she brought up a thread—and there it was. Proof my set’s altar was wrong. “Shit.”

  “I mean, if it’s not on yours, you can add it, right?”

  “Yeah.” I could. That was easy. But the fact that it wasn’t on the plans or the photos meant there’d been a larger fuckup along the line. “But if it’s not on mine, it’s not on the full-scale set they’ve been filming with.”

  “Oh.” Lydia stared at the screen. “Shit.”

  Exactly. “I need to make a phone call.” I wandered back out into the shop and over to the model to recheck the plans. They were the correct ones for the season and episode we were shooting. No rune. Both relief and horror ran through me. I knew I hadn’t fucked up, but I’d kinda hoped I had, because this was worse. Anna would not be happy. I knew some of the schedule, and I was pretty sure they’d been filming on the full-sized set for a while now. Someone would get chewed out. Badly.

  Fuck. I had no choice, though. A continuity error like that was super bad. Better to raise the flag now than let the mistake get all the way to post. How they fixed it wasn’t my job to figure out. But calling it in? That was. I scrolled through my contacts and found the number for the production manager.

  His gruff voice answered on the other end. “Yeah?”

  “Hey, it’s Ian Meyers. I’m working on the sacred grove miniature.”

  “Yeah. You nearly done?” Papers were shuffled in the background.

  “Getting there. But, um. I noticed something. And I think it might be a problem.”

  Silence. Probably because he knew if there was a problem with my set, I’d fix it and not bother calling. “What is it?”

 
; “There’s no rune on the altar.”

  More silence. I cleared my throat. “During the mid-season finale last season, there was.”

  The sound that came out of my phone was one long hiss of a word. “Shit!” That was followed by “Fuck.” Then he sighed. “Keep working on your set. I’ll check this out and get back to you.”

  The line went dead before I could say anything else. I didn’t take it personally. He was pretty damn busy and I’d dropped one hell of an issue into his lap. But it was done. I let out a breath before plunking myself down on my chair to drink the rest of my coffee. After all, I still had a set to complete, with or without a rune.

  Lydia Derry’s fan art may have saved Wolf’s Landing from a whole lot of egg on our faces.

  I was mounting a few of the smaller items to the set when I heard Simon’s unmistakable voice murmur through the store, then Lydia’s. Couldn’t make out the words, but I knew he was heading my direction from the thumps on the carpet before he appeared.

  “You bought me coffee? And a mug?” He held the bright blue travel mug up.

  “The barista told me you like your coffee hot, and well, those paper cups wouldn’t cut it.”

  “You didn’t have to.” He turned something on the top, took a sip, and it was almost as nice as watching him come under me. “Oh.” It came out as a delighted sigh. “That’s good.”

  “Worth every penny.”

  He chuckled. “I think I can make sure you get your money’s worth from me.”

  Bet he could. I still wanted to bend Simon over a piece of furniture and had no doubt he’d let me. It dawned on me that I could probably have him about anyway I wanted to. The expression on my face must have been something else, because Simon’s breath caught. He set down the mug on the table, took my face in his hands, and kissed me hard. I gripped his arms, mostly to keep from falling over. Simon was sex on ice when he kissed like there was nothing in the world but us.

  “Later.” He spoke against my lips. “I’ll pay later.”

  “Yeah, you will.” I stole a kiss back and bit his lip in the process.

  He groaned. “Gotta open the store.”

  And I had to get back to working on the set. We broke apart, both breathless. I wanted to say something else to keep him here for another moment, but my phone blared out the theme from The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, and I jumped. That was Anna’s ring. “Shit.” I grabbed the cell and answered. “This is Ian.”

  “I don’t know whether to thank you or kill you,” Anna said, “but the altar rune was a good catch.”

  Simon stood next to me, his curiosity making him damn sexy. Unfair. “Is it going to be much of an issue?” I asked.

  A sigh from the other end. I could almost see her brushing strands of her hair out of the way. “We’re reshooting a few scenes. For the others, we’ll do CGI in post. Going forward, the rune will be there, so make sure it’s on your set.”

  “Will do. But I’ll need to swing by to pick up some photos.”

  Simon fiddled with his coffee.

  “Already on their way to you,” Anna said. “Fresh ones. So if there’s anything else you spot . . .”

  I was starting to feel a little guilty, because the catch wasn’t mine. “Well, I only saw the rune because of one of the shop owners here. She knows the show.” I met Simon’s gaze. “Likely better than I do.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and I shrugged. It was true. I’d watched episodes and knew the storyline, but the continuity stuff was beyond me. There were producers and assistants and writers for that. I’d never have caught the error if Lydia hadn’t shown me her art.

  “Fans always do,” Anna said. “Which is why it’s good you pushed it up the chain, or we’d have been in a world of hurt in a few months. It was the right call, Ian, and I appreciate it, even if it fucks things up.”

  “Thanks. I think.”

  “Those photos should be there, soon.”

  I told Anna I’d watch for them, and we hung up.

  “Problem with the set?” I couldn’t nail down Simon’s expression. Worried. Giddy. Proud. Who knew?

  “There should be a rune on the altar.” I shook my head. “Everyone missed it. Probably pulled the older plans of the set when they were getting ready for the season. Lydia showed me some of her art and bam, there it was.”

  His eyes got wide. “Oh my God, I should have noticed, too.” A little crinkle formed on his forehead. “I mean I repaired the thing, and I didn’t notice.”

  I waved my hand. “No one did. It happens. Thanks to Lydia, we caught it.”

  He nodded slowly, his attention on the model. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

  “Finish the bits, then dig into the details.” This is where Simon would come in handy. “It’s a lot of paint work.”

  His smile said it all: He loved to paint. I did too. But he was vibrating with glee. Or maybe that was the coffee.

  Simon peered at his watch. “Nearly opening time. I’ll be over when I can.” He took another swig of his coffee. “This does keep it hot!”

  “You like it hot.” I tried not to grin, but I was lousy at it.

  That grin of Simon’s put all kinds of heat into my body. “So do you.” With that, he headed up to the front, enough spring in his step to bounce his ass oh-so-nicely. I chuckled and got back to work.

  The photos arrived about half an hour after the store opened, and were brought by Anderson. I set down the moss I’d been attaching to the grove and stepped in front of it. “They have you playing courier?”

  He made a sour face. “More like doing penance.” He peered around me. “Looks good!”

  “You touch it, I’ll mash your fingers.” I kept my tone light.

  He laughed. “Dude, I’m not gonna go any farther than this.” He handed over an envelope. “And Natalya already mashed every part of me during training.”

  Yeah, the best way not to piss off the director’s girlfriend was to not piss off the director. He’d failed at that. I pulled out the photos. “Thanks, Anderson.”

  He nodded and headed out while I studied the photos and my model. Not a bad replica. A few tree parts needed to be adjusted, but overall, my set was pretty much like the life-sized one. Tingles ran from my toes to my head, and I caught a breath. Sometimes this happened, those moments when I realized I worked on Wolf’s Landing, that I’d made it this far in my oddball career, and that I was damned good at my job.

  But not perfect. I studied the photos again, and picked up the moss. Still needed to glue on a few fiddly parts, then we could get down to painting.

  Around lunch, Simon reappeared with two sandwiches in his hands. “Beef or chicken?”

  My stomach growled, even though I desperately wanted to keep working. But if I waved him off, I’d only end up eating the sandwich after some lengthy argument that Simon would rightly win. “Chicken.”

  I took the time to wash my hands, though. Moss and glue and paint—not crap I wanted to ingest. By the time I got back, Simon had brought chips and two bottles of water. We chowed down, and I felt a lot better after putting food into me.

  When we finished, Simon leaned back in his chair. “You have me for the rest of the day.”

  So very tempting not to return to working, but set before sex. “Good. I’ll put those fingers to work.” My hands were now greasy from the sandwich. His too, so we headed to the employee area to fix that.

  I didn’t want to be away from the model too long, but the privacy gave me a chance to pull Simon close and sample his lips. He gave a huff of laughter as we kissed, slow and sweet. When we broke apart, he licked his bottom lip. “Here I was going to go in for that.”

  “Great minds.”

  When we returned to the grove, we found Jesse planted in front of it with his hands up. He was surprisingly intimidating in a purple and pink striped shirt and his skinny jeans. “I can’t let you any closer.”

  He was blocking a scowling woman in one of the newer Wolf’s Landing T-shirts and a pair
of jeans. She had a curl of distaste in her expression. “You shouldn’t have that. You’re not allowed to have Wolf’s Landing merchandise! I’ll be taking it.”

  Whoa. What? “Excuse me?” I put myself between the woman and my set. “You’re not taking shit.”

  “It’s not merchandise, Marlina.” Simon joined us. “It’s a miniature set.”

  Simon knew this woman?

  “Simon Derry, you know you’re not supposed to have any Wolf’s Landing-licensed items.” A little crowd was forming behind her, with people peeking over shoulders to get a better view. Great. Just what we needed, a spectacle. Who was this woman? A moment later, two and two mashed together in my brain. She must be from Howling Moon, the shop next door. “It’s not licensed. It’s official.”

  “Ian—”

  I ignored Simon. “It’s official Wolf’s Landing property.” I stepped forward. “And if you so much as touch it, I’ll call the police.”

  “Ian—”

  Marlina crossed her arms. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m Ian Meyers, and I’m the miniature set designer for Wolf’s Landing.”

  That stopped her in her tracks. She gaped at me for a moment. “You work for Wolf’s Landing?”

  I took another step forward, forcing her to retreat. “Yup.” I dug out the badge I used to get on the lot from my wallet.

  She retreated farther and flicked her eyes to the miniature set, then focused on me. “But—”

  Simon slid up next to me. “Look, I’m helping Ian out. Long story, but I’ve got the space and supplies he needs in a pinch—”

  “He does,” I said.

  “—And we need to get back to work.” He peered past her shoulder. “If you want your very own Sacred Grove figurine set, I’m sure Marlina will be happy to sell one to you”—he focused on her—“over at Howling Moon.” Simon spoke the last bit hard and clear, with anger underneath.

  Marlina turned and walked away. Some of the crowd dissipated. Others lingered—probably to catch a glimpse of us working. As long as they kept out of our hair, I didn’t care. I clapped Simon on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get back to it.”

 

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