James, Sherry - [Studs For Hire 02]

by Woman In Charge (lit)

  The room was painted a crisp white and accented with black and white checkered tile on the floor. A red bedspread with two white racing stripes down one side had been designed to match one of the jackets Elvis had worn in Speedway, and yellow and orange throw pillows had been added to complete the Sixties feel.

  Dozens of various sized photographs from each movie were clustered in separate galleries around their respective movie posters. And for the final touch to the room, Casey had commissioned a larger-than-life portrait of Elvis, portraying his character in Speedway, painted above the bed.

  "All right,” Heather said, turning away from a collection of movie photos. “I'll cut Alex a break."

  A weight lifted from Casey's shoulders. “Terrific! You won't—"

  "Under one condition.” Heather held up a finger.

  Damn. Now what? “And that is?"

  "He's back here and on the job within twenty-four hours, personally working on my bedroom. And because I'm impressed by what I see, if he makes it, you're no longer fired."

  Great. Casey didn't know whether to still feel relieved, or be in panic mode. What Heather was asking for was a mighty big if. Especially since Casey's stubborn pride hadn't let her speak to Alex since he'd left. Even if she did call him now and apologize, would it be enough?

  "And if he doesn't make it?” she asked, just in case.

  "Then I sue him for breach of contract."

  Casey's heart tripped in her chest.

  "And,” Heather continued, “you're still fired without pay."

  Now her heart lurched to a stop. That's what she got for asking.

  Heather threw her a smug grin and sauntered from the room like a cat who knew there was no way for the mouse to escape the trap that had been set.

  Casey had to face it. She was left with no other options now but to call Alex. All week long Syd and Terri had been telling her to do just that, but she'd balked, not yet ready to face her embarrassment, swallow her pride, and admit what a fool she'd been.

  But Heather had thrown down the challenge. And time was short.

  Casey reached for her cell phone.

  * * * *

  "As you can see, Hunter, I've chosen cedar trusses for the vaulted ceiling in the great room. They're rustic like you prefer, but are also classic, not to mention stout."

  "They look terrific,” the actor said as he studied the preliminary plans for his new home from the comforts of an overstuffed chair, his injured leg propped on an ottoman. “This is great, Alex. You've incorporated everything I've asked for. And you've done it fast. I appreciate this."

  "No problem. Happy to do it. I'm really excited about the project."

  "That makes two of us. I'd really like to take you out to my property tomorrow so you can have a closer look around, get a feel for the terrain."

  "Are you sure you're up to it with your leg in a cast?"

  "No problem. I'm an action star, remember? My fans think I'm invincible and can do anything, like survive a plane crash, a car wreck, and a pulverizing by the bad guy all in a two-hour period,” he said with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “Nothing like movie magic."

  Alex laughed at Hunter's wit and appreciated his humble, good ol’ boy attitude. No wonder he wanted away from the trumped up bullshit of the Hollywood scene when he wasn't working.

  "But seriously, I insist on taking you out there so I can get out and do something. Boredom is driving me nuts."

  "It might be tough for you to get around on those crutches. You mentioned it's rocky out there."

  "No problem.” Hunter waved off Alex's concern with the empty water bottle he'd been fiddling with. “I've already gotten pretty adept at using the damn things. I'll be fine."

  "Okay. If you're sure, tomorrow it is."

  The cell phone at Alex's hip buzzed. He checked the caller ID, hoping to let the call go through to his voice mail, but when he saw Casey's name, his breath hitched. He hadn't spoken with her in days. And at the moment he saw her name, he realized once again just how much he'd missed her sultry voice, her subtle spicy scent, and her secret vulnerabilities hidden beneath that smart-mouthed exterior. The phone buzzed again, pulling him from his mini fantasy.

  "Uh, can you excuse me a minute, Hunter? I need to take this call."

  "Sure. No problem."

  Alex left his office and headed for the empty one down the hall where Valerie had done a fair job of running his life and business into the ground.

  "Hey, Casey. What's up?” he asked, trying to sound blasé and not let on how he felt—excited, thrilled, and thankful to finally hear from her.

  "Alex. I have a ... problem here at Heather's. Do you have a second?"

  Hmm. No, how are you? No, I've missed you. All business right off the bat. Not a good sign. Apparently she hadn't been missing him as much as he had her.

  "Sure.” He wanted to say he had way more than a second for her, but refrained. He didn't want to be a dope and ruin his chances of working things out between them before the conversation even got started.

  "I'm sorry to bother you. I know you're busy, but we've got a little problem here."

  "So you've said. What's this little problem?” He laughed, hoping to keep the conversation light, casual.

  "Well, it's not really little. It's more like major.” Her voice wavered. She sighed as if she'd had enough and was on the verge of a breakdown.

  So much for keeping things light. “Let me take one guess. The problem is Heather."

  "BINGO. Alex you have to come back. Pronto.” It was obvious Casey was working hard to stay the professional and keep her emotions under control, but her voice didn't lie. She was struggling.

  Alex couldn't help hoping he was at least partly responsible for her distress. If so, that meant she'd been missing him. That single thought alone tortured his libido, and his common sense. What he wouldn't give to crawl through the phone right about now.

  "Alex?"

  "I wasn't planning on heading your way for a couple more days,” he said at last, getting his mind back on business.

  "But that's too long. You need to be here by tomorrow."

  "Tomorrow? I can't. I've got to finish some details with Hunter first."

  "Alex, do you remember signing a contract with Heather?"

  "Contract?” Alex felt his stomach pitch. “Hell. It was just a one page deal..."

  "Did you read it?"

  "Yeah, sure."

  "Do you remember it having an exclusivity clause?"

  His stomach did a nosedive. “Dammit,” he grumbled. He braced a hand on the window frame and stared out at the Rocky Mountain landscape shrouded in Denver's daily haze—suddenly feeling as engulfed as the mountain peaks. Now, too late, he remembered the clause. He'd thought nothing of it at the time of signing the contract, had no clue a major movie star would knock on his door and take him away from the Gridmore job. His business plate had been bare for so long that working for Heather exclusively hadn't even been a worry.

  "My thoughts exactly,” Casey said. “And you haven't heard the worst of it."

  "Do I really want to know?” he quipped, trying not to let Heather and her antics intimidate him.

  "Probably not, but it's one of those necessary evil things. Heather is threatening to sue you for breach of contract, and fire me without payment. That means neither you nor I get paid if you aren't back in Omaha in twenty-four hours."

  "Real generous of her to give us twenty-four hours to save our butts,” he said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

  "She's all heart."

  Alex grumbled and raked his fingers through his hair. Although the deal was working out with Hunter, he wouldn't see much in the way of money until the job got underway. And Alex still needed money now to keep him afloat, and make his first, sizeable payment to Western Bank within the week.

  "Alex, you have to get back here. I don't want to end up in court over this whole deal. Studs can't afford to take this kind of financial hit."

  Alex closed his ey
es and prayed for strength. He couldn't take the hit, either. But how could he be in two places at once? He had to be honest with Casey. She was depending on him as much as he was depending upon the deal with Dierks.

  "I can't make it back that soon. We're heading out to the job site tomorrow."

  "Alex. Heather is serious. She'll sue."

  He groaned under his breath. “Can you do something to stall her, bide some extra time?"

  "I've been doing that all week. I've run out of ideas."

  Alex winced at the hard tone of her voice. He couldn't argue with her there. “I don't—"

  "I need you, Alex,” Casey said.

  His breath caught. She needed him? Like he needed her—in his bed? In his life?

  "That is ... to save our butts and get this project done,” she continued in a rush, as if to clarify that the only need she had for him was work related and nothing more, nothing less.

  A wave of disappointment rushed over him. After being gone a week, Casey hadn't said what he'd hoped to hear. What he wanted to hear. Damn, even the impersonal tone of her voice wasn't giving him any hint or indication that she'd missed him.

  God, help him. He didn't want to believe they were just a one night stand. And he sure as hell didn't want to compare her to Valerie. But he'd been down this road before. His hand tightened into a fist. Making the same mistake twice wasn't an option in his book.

  Yet, his gut nagged at him, argued that Casey was different, that things would be different this time around if they'd both let it happen.

  "Look, I'll see what I can do,” he said, not sure what that would be.

  Deafening silence hung between them for agonizing seconds, then a faint sound of something, like a sigh, whispered through the line.

  "Okay,” she said at last. “I'll hold off applying for food stamps and unemployment for a few more hours,” she quipped. “But I'm not sure I can hold out much longer than that."

  Alex heard the forced smile in her voice and in that instant he knew what he had to do.

  * * * *

  Casey stood in the middle of Heather's stripped bare bedroom, a paint roller in one hand and gallons of Scarlet O'Hara red at her feet ready to be put to use. The white primer coated walls stared back at her, daring her to do something about their starkness.

  She stifled a yawn and glanced at her watch. It was nearly midnight on a Friday night and here she was working on someone else's bedroom when other women her age were either out on dates, or at home rocking babies back to sleep.

  Casey groaned. She'd been tempted to cozy up with a bowl of popcorn and a good movie, but by keeping her mind focused on work and not on Alex's final words—I'll see what I can do, she was at least able to function.

  With those six simple words he'd made no promises, no guarantees, but yet left her with enough hope to keep pushing forward. She had to. Besides, the only way sleep was going to come now was if she overdosed on sleeping pills. Everything was at stake—her and her friends’ futures, Alex's business, Casey's heart.

  Her heart? Yeah, dammit. Her heart. The rate she was going her heart was going to be beat to a pulp, and knowing her luck, charred to boot before this was all over.

  "What a fine mess you've gotten yourself into this time, Burrows.” She blew a lock of hair out of her eyes and glanced around the room she was responsible for turning into Heather's Burning Love suite.

  What an irony. Casey's love life teetered on the edge of nonexistence, and she was the one who was supposed to turn this room into a haven for lovers. Damn. Life sucked sometimes.

  "Well, this isn't getting it done,” she sighed. She bent over to grab the wire handle on a paint can.

  "Maybe I can help,” a deep voice said from behind her.

  Casey's hand froze around the cool metal. Her heart did a triple flip. Alex? Could he really be here? Or was she imagining things?

  "Nice view,” he said.

  Oh, shit. She wasn't imagining anything. And her butt was sticking up in the air in her baggy paint splattered jeans. She stood and spun around. Blood rushed to her head and she wasn't sure if it was from her quick movement, or the fact he hadn't let her down. “You're here? How—?"

  "What? No, hello? No, I missed you?” He pushed away from the door frame and shortened the distance between them. He wore his bomber jacket and his usual flannel shirt underneath. Several days’ growth of a beard shadowed his chin, making him look tough, sexy, and irresistible as hell.

  Casey swallowed hard.

  "I'm just ... surprised to see you,” she managed to say in spite of her racing heart. Beads of perspiration broke out beneath her T-shirt, and it wasn't because the room was hot.

  "You didn't think I'd come,” he stated, a hard edge to his tone. A muscle ticked at his jaw.

  She'd wanted so desperately to believe he would come, yet, admittedly, she'd had her doubts. “It's just so late. Midnight,” she said in lieu of telling the truth. She pointed to her watch, feeling like a silly school girl who didn't have a clue about boys.

  "So.” He grabbed the handle of the paint roller dangling from her fingers before it fell to the floor. “You said you needed me. I came to find out why."

  "I told you. Heather is threatening to sue if—"

  "Nah.” He shook his head. “I think you need me for more than my expert painting skills.” He held up the roller and twirled it between them.

  "I...” The word came out sounding like a squeak to her ears. Crap. She needed to get a grip, be the assertive woman she prided herself on being.

  "It's been a long week, Case."

  "Yes. It has,” she said defensively. “One of the longest weeks of my life.” She breathed a sigh of relief, glad to get something, no matter how small, off her chest. Every day they'd been apart had been longer than the one before.

  "I peeked in at some of the other rooms. Looks like you got a lot done in my absence. You've worked hard."

  Because work has been the only thing keeping me sane.

  "Just doing my job,” she said instead, wanting to remain in control and not let her emotions rule.

  "By the paint on your face, I can see that.” He lifted his hand and brushed the pad of his thumb over a smudge of primer on her cheek. Casey inhaled sharply, the simple touch as mind-altering as one-hundred proof alcohol.

  Her body took charge and leaned forward on its own accord. Alex answered by cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand. Casey's eyes fluttered closed. She could no longer deny the feelings she had for this man. She'd rather die than go through life knowing she'd blown this gift she'd been given.

  "Alex.” She opened her eyes. “I know I was a dolt the other day. That I overacted. The truth is—"

  "Case. It's in the past. Let it go.” He dropped his hand and Casey ached from the loss of his touch. No. Not this time. She wasn't going to back down this time and just let him become another hurtful memory.

  "No. I can't. The past is the problem.” She placed her fisted hands on her hips.

  "Okay. I'm listening."

  "I panicked, Alex. I'm sorry. I have this little problem with men when they realize I'm not perfect. They leave. Including my father. I've been dumped so many times that when you said you had to go to Denver, I thought it was because of me. That I'd failed again and you were leaving because you were disappo—"

  He dropped the paint roller and cupped her face in his hands. “Don't say it. Don't ever say it.” He captured her mouth with his and kissed her hard, deep, and with more passion than she imagined possible. He smelled of leather and the autumn night.

  "So tell me,” he said, resting his forehead against hers when the kiss ended. “Was that the kiss of a disappointed man?"

  "Hardly,” she said, feeling almost star-struck and blissfully happy. Alex had come back to her. He'd told her she wasn't the problem, and even sealed his argument with a searing kiss.

  Maybe life didn't suck after all.

  He let his hands fall from her shoulders and took a step back. Uh, o
h. Maybe she was jumping the gun. Casey held her breath.

  "You aren't the only one who's had relationship problems,” he said softly.

  "Care to share?"

  He quirked a brow. “I don't want to bore you."

  "I could never find you boring.” Casey winked, silently suggesting Alex had plenty of interesting qualities to keep her boredom at bay.

  His lips turned up in a smile as he placed a booted foot on the bottom rung of an aluminum ladder. He shook his head and a few strands of his hair brushed over his forehead, giving him that sexy, bad boy look she so desired.