Close Enough to Touch

by Victoria Dahl

  “Sure. Yes.” They both stood there for a moment. Eve had to be wishing she hadn’t volunteered her car, and Grace wished she could think of a way to let her off the hook. But she needed to get to town, and Eve couldn’t lose two or three hours of her day driving her. “Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll be back as quickly as possible. Without speeding, I mean.”

  “No problem.”

  Newfound maturity or not, Grace hoped she ran into Willa alone sometime soon. She wanted to slap that bitch across the face. She wanted to hurt her. Because the feeling was returning to Grace’s body and she felt like she might throw up. That’d be a nice, funny way to reinforce the rumors that she was some sort of addict. Thank God she hadn’t eaten since eight that morning.

  Face burning, she got into Eve’s car and pulled carefully away, determined not to even stir up one piece of gravel. She just disappeared as quietly as she could and tried to decide if she should keep on driving. Because the worst part about the lies Willa had told was they were so close to the awful truth.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “I’VE GOTTA GET THIS,” Cole ground out to the production assistant who was trying to get him to agree that the barn corral could indeed be easily moved to a place that got better natural light. “Excuse me.”

  Cole glanced at the screen of his cell phone, didn’t recognize the number, and still breathed a sigh of relief. Whoever it was had to be better than this boy who looked eighteen years old and didn’t have a lick of common sense.

  “Hello?” He headed straight down the trail that led from the barn to the meadow corral. The background noise of two dozen people began to fade behind him. But there was no answer on the phone. “Hello?” he repeated.

  “I didn’t know who else to call,” a rushed female voice said.

  “Okay. Who is this?”

  “There’s no spare tire in her car.”

  “Grace?” he asked, feeling stupid even as he said it. Of course it wasn’t Grace. She was… He glanced around, realizing he hadn’t seen her since—

  “I’m sorry to spring this on you, Cole, but I don’t have a credit card to pay for a tow and the spare tire isn’t in the trunk and I can’t be late or they’ll think…”

  “Where are you?”

  “I don’t know. About halfway toward the ranch after I turn off the highway?”

  “Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “Really? You’ll come?”

  Cole looked at the people milling about. The crowd had thinned out, at least. But Madeline was still here, ruling over them all from the front porch of the big house. “Yeah. See you in a few.”

  Just like that, he escaped, the way he’d been wanting to all day. But the escape was bittersweet, because he knew he’d be returning in half an hour. But he had work to do. Real work. The horses were stressed from the ruckus and traffic, and Cole had decided they’d be better off at the meadow corral than in the barn. These were ranch horses. They could handle sleeping in the lean-to for a few nights during the summer. They didn’t need blankets or even a roof over their heads, and they could take on coyotes with a well-placed kick.

  But like Cole, they couldn’t take these people with their earpieces and notepads and sunglasses and hard laughter.

  As soon as he was out of the yard, Cole rolled down the windows of his truck and turned off the radio. He wanted some peace and quiet, and if rescuing Grace got him thirty minutes of peace, maybe she wasn’t so bad.

  Ridiculous, though. Apparently she was way worse than he’d imagined. A thief, huh? He wouldn’t have guessed that. Though he hadn’t liked seeing her tortured earlier. Humiliated. Ironic that she’d been slapped in the face by the people she’d brought here.

  After all her tough talk, he wouldn’t have expected her to put up with that kind of shit. But it seemed she was just like everyone else in Hollywood—willing to give up every bit of herself to get near the dream. Kissing ass. Apologizing for someone else treating her like shit.

  When he saw her ten minutes later, she looked too small. She stood at the side of the road, arms crossed and jaw set, and glared at his truck as if Cole was to blame for whatever had happened. He pulled over and stared at her for a moment, so small against the wide landscape.

  Grace glared and motioned for him to hurry up. He wondered if she’d bother with a thank-you.

  “Hurry!” she said. When he opened the door, she rushed to speak. “I have to get back as soon as possible!”

  Nope. No polite thank-you. Not even an impolite one. But then her face softened. Just for a split second before she got control. “I’m sorry. Thank you for coming. I just…”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know if it was a nail or a leak or… The tire’s flat and there’s no spare.”

  “No spare?” He walked toward the car. “Pop the trunk.”

  She rolled her eyes but opened the driver’s door and popped the trunk. The well that should’ve held the spare was, indeed, empty.

  “Oh, look!” Grace exclaimed in a saccharin-sweet voice. “I’m not an idiot woman! It’s a miracle.”

  “I’m here to help, you know.”

  “Then help!”

  He was surprised to find himself biting back a smile. “Fine. We’ll need to get the tire off and take it into town for a repair.”

  “No! I can’t be late, Cole. Please. Not after that. Eve’s car… She’ll think… I just can’t be late.”

  She wasn’t angry, he saw now. Not at all. She was scared. Anxious. And a little panicked, too. Her dark eyes darted from the car to him to his truck. “All right,” he said. “Get in. I’ll drive you and then come back for the tire.”

  “Wait!” she yelled and jumped to open the back door. She pulled out what looked like a very fancy toolbox. “Okay. Let’s go!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered. Christ, she was bossy. He should be happy to see her like this. Caught by the trouble she’d brought on them both. Nearly as tortured by these people as he was. She’d brought them here. She’d done this.

  He opened the truck door for her before walking around to get in the driver’s seat.

  “I thought a herd of those antelope were going to swarm me at any time,” she muttered.

  “The pronghorn? You probably could’ve fought them off.”

  “Oh, one, sure. But a whole herd? And this is right where we saw them.”

  “Well, you made it.”

  “Yes. And, Cole—thanks for saving me. Really.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and the movement made Cole think of her breasts. Naked. Small and tight and hot under his mouth.

  He shifted. He didn’t want to see her like this. Vulnerable and worried. He wanted her to be a bitch again. The woman who’d completely screwed up his life.

  “You know Madeline Beckingham,” she said out of the blue.

  That worked just fine to get him pissed again. “Yeah? How would I know Madeline Beckingham?”

  “You tell me, but it’s as obvious as the fact that there was no spare in that car.”

  Fine. Now he knew what to feel. Anger. And discomfort. “She filmed a movie here a long time ago. I was an extra and I helped train some of the others in Western riding.”

  “Is that when you started hating girls like me?”

  He shot a look at her and her eyes were back to normal now. Dark and mocking him. Yet something was different. She’d changed her makeup at some point. Instead of pure black, her makeup was smokier. Gray with a hint of violet at the corners. She looked softer. Maybe that was what was throwing him off. That, and the memory of her gasping into his ear as he got her off.

  Jesus.

  “Look, Grace. I’m sorry about last night. I was in a bad place when I went to the bar. This movie shoot, it’s… Then I saw you, and…”

  “And? What? You don’t like girls like me. You’ve made that clear. So you saw me and, what?”

  He shrugged. “I forgot about being pissed off. Forgot about the movie shoot. About my l
eg. My future.”

  “Your future?”

  He waved off the question. “All the bullshit. And I didn’t expect that the person helping me forget was the one who’d screwed me over.”

  “Is that what I was doing? Helping you forget?”

  He took his eyes off the road long enough to meet her gaze. Not that it did any good. She showed him nothing. It drove him crazy, that she could make herself so blank. “Isn’t that what I was doing for you? Helping you forget?”

  She stared at him until he had to look back to the road. When he broke the gaze, she laughed that jaded laugh again. “It was sex, Cole. What you were doing for me was the same thing I was doing for you. Getting off.”

  “I can get myself off,” he said. “I’d bet a hell of a lot of money that you’re perfectly capable of jacking off, too. So whatever it is for you, it isn’t just coming.”

  “You’re wrong,” she whispered.

  “No, I’m not. And I got really pissed because I thought you were one thing to me, and you turned out to be something else.”

  “Well, I’m so sorry, Cole!” she snapped. “I guess I wasn’t the right tool for the job.”

  He clenched his teeth together, but she was making him see that maybe things weren’t as black-and-white as he’d wanted them to be. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Not from her perspective. She couldn’t have known that what she’d done would stomp all over the most fragile parts of his life. The wounds that had healed all wrong. And if she couldn’t have known that, if it hadn’t been malicious, then Cole was being an asshole.

  She’d slept with him. She’d been happy. And celebrating. She’d slept with him as part of that. And he’d thanked her for it by treating her like shit.

  If she wasn’t the woman he wanted her to be, that wasn’t her problem.

  Cole swallowed a curse and rubbed a hand against his thigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Shouldn’t have done what?” she challenged. “Fuck me?”

  “No. I mean, that might be your take on it at this point.”

  “No. I got off, right? The rest of it hardly matters.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Don’t I?” she asked. She offered a tight smile when he looked at her. “You’ve been honest, at least. You want my feelings to be hurt? You want me to feel like shit because you didn’t walk me to my door and tell me I was special afterward? Well, sorry. I don’t. It takes more than that, cowboy.”

  “Grace. I’m sorry. Even if your feelings weren’t hurt. Even if you don’t give a shit and I was nothing more than a fun ride for you. I’m sorry. I like you, and I shouldn’t have—”

  “You don’t know anything about me,” she said, her voice soft and yet somehow cutting through his words like a machete.

  “I know a little. I wish I knew more.”

  “Ha. You’ve made pretty sure you’re never going to know anything more. Girls like me? We don’t give that kind of knowledge up easily. And if you know anything about me, anything at all, then that was accidental. That wasn’t anything I meant to give you.”

  “Yeah. I get that.” He knew she was trying to be tough, but she was breaking his heart. She didn’t want to show him anything, which just made him want to see it all.

  “But,” she said carefully, “we can have sex again, if you want.”

  “What?” He exhaled the word on a shocked sigh.

  “It was good. It’d be even better if you kept your mouth shut afterward.”

  They were almost to the ranch. The truck passed under the sign. Shadows flashed over his face and then disappeared. Cole had no idea what to say. He was half horrified and half aroused. The obvious answer was, “Yes. Let’s do that.” But instead, he heard his mouth say, “Why?”

  Why? What the hell? He was losing his mind.

  “Why not?” she answered.

  He didn’t realize he’d stopped, but Grace was opening the door. She hopped out, transferred her box to one hand and closed the truck door without another word.

  If you want.

  If he wanted? Jesus. He couldn’t even get out of the truck now, not without embarrassing himself. And once again, Grace Barrett had managed to banish every one of his worries. Even the one that was watching from right across the yard.

  * * *

  FOR A MOMENT, Eve looked genuinely worried. Grace saw it clearly on the woman’s face as she hurried down the steps of the porch and rushed over. “Where’s my car?”

  “A tire went flat and there was no spare.”

  “Oh,” she said, then the worry was chased away by a grimace. “Oh, my God, I keep forgetting to replace it. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  “Yes, Cole gave me a ride and he’s going back to grab the tire and get it patched.”

  “He doesn’t have to do that. I’ll call a tow truck.”

  Grace gestured toward the truck that was already pulling away. “Too late.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about the car.”

  “It’s no big deal.” No big deal, and yet they both lapsed into silence and stood in an awkward limbo for too many seconds. “It’s not true,” Grace finally said. “What Willa said about me. I know you don’t have any reason to believe me, Eve. But I don’t have a drinking problem. I don’t do drugs. And I’m not a…a thief.” The last word was hard to get out. It felt shameful just to have to say it.

  She’d made herself back into that teenage girl who’d run from everyone, including the police.

  And these days, she might set herself apart from other people in terms of appearance, but she did it on purpose. She tried very hard to walk a fine line between respectability and edginess.

  As a kid, she hadn’t had that choice. She’d lived on the streets. If her hair had looked wild then, it was because it had needed a good wash and a cut. And if her eyes had looked dark and angry, they had been. And those tattered clothes? They really had been dug out of a box outside the door of a soup kitchen. She’d lived like that for two years after she’d run away. She’d stolen things. She’d lied and schemed and done what she’d needed to for food. She’d never actually sold her body, but there’d been a constant, unacknowledged negotiation between her heart and her mind, hadn’t there? Men whose interest had been more interesting because they had a place. Or a car. Or enough money to pay for dinner without even thinking about it. She’d rarely slept with a boy who’d been like her. A hustler. A street kid.

  So she could say she’d never been a whore. She could tell herself that, but she couldn’t say she’d never been a thief. Maybe that was why it stung so badly now. Because she really was one.

  She swallowed hard as the silence pressed harder against her skin. “I’m sorry about that, Eve. And I understand if you think it’s best if we…if I…don’t…”

  “Grace, I’ve lived alone since I was twenty-two. I’ve owned my own business for years. I’ve never had a business partner. Never been married. Every decision is my own, and I have to trust my gut. And my gut says I like you. It also tells me that Willa chick is a superficial bitch. So, let’s leave it at that, all right?”

  “But you must wonder—”

  “Okay, I’ll admit that I had a fleeting moment of thinking I was an idiot to hand a near stranger my car keys and wish her the best. But here you are. And my car is allegedly still intact.” She smiled, and not for the first time, Grace noticed that sadness in her eyes. Maybe it was always there. Maybe it was only obvious when she smiled.

  But whatever it was, she was choosing to give Grace a chance.

  “I have a reputation in L.A.,” Grace admitted. “It might be my fault. I can have an attitude. I don’t like to kiss anyone’s ass, even if they’re my boss. But I’m good at what I do, and I try to keep my head down. Still, there’s always that one situation, you know? Where you have to say that something isn’t right, even if speaking up will get you into trouble. I’ve made mistakes, but most of them I wouldn’t take back.”

  “Good. I’ve wor
ked at the edges of this industry for a while now. I see the bull that goes on. And, um, let’s just say I see hints of inflexibility in your personality.”

  “Ha. That’s a nice way to say it.”

  “Whatever it is, I can see how you might be like oil in their water sometimes. But let’s see if you and I can manage to make it work. Just please remember that you’re representing me right now. So if you get into one of those situations again? Maybe run it by me first?”

  Grace felt a surprising rush of emotion. There was no reason for Eve to give her a chance. There was every reason for her to cut her losses and let Grace go. Grace felt grateful and touched, and that made her feel uncomfortable. Strangely, she would almost rather Eve had fired her. Then Grace could be mad. She could walk away and not look back and tell herself it hadn’t been the right job for her anyway.

  She knew how to handle people being mean to her, but kindness? That felt like a burden.

  “Thank you,” she said, hoping that would be enough.

  “You’d better take care of Madeline. The film crew will be here anytime.”

  “Sure. Of course.”

  “And I’m still setting up the shots and camera angles for production. By the time we’re done with that, it should be time to go. Oh, and your makeup looks nice, by the way. Good idea.”

  “Thanks.”

  Grace had redone her makeup when she’d stopped for her kit. She’d changed it subtly, softening it up to offer visual reassurance to the client. She could use her skills to put people at ease, just as carefully as she normally used them to keep people at bay. She was growing up. She could do this.

  Still, she approached Madeline warily, half-sure that Willa would’ve been working her magic in the past two hours, feeding lies bit by bit into the ear of the director.

  But Willa was sitting a dozen feet away, pouting and scrolling through something on her phone. She glanced up as Grace walked past and muttered, “Bitch.”

  Grace rolled her eyes.

  “You made me look like a fool.”

  Grace didn’t know what to say to a girl who’d throw someone under the bus and then accuse them of making her look bad. Under normal circumstances, Grace would probably walk over and call her every foul name in the book. But not today. Not here. She kept walking and swallowed back her anger.