Chemistry

by Tess Oliver

  I pulled my feet up and wrapped my arms tightly around my knees, trying hard to make myself small and inconsequential and harmless.

  "Keezy, what the hell? We've been looking all over for you." Jameson's tall figure appeared in the middle of the dry landscape like the proverbial mirage. And, man, was he a tall drink of water and one that I sorely needed right at that moment.

  I shook my head discretely. "Don't come closer," I said through gritted teeth, worried that even moving my chin might send the snake into action.

  Jameson thought I was joking around at first and started to laugh before he caught himself short and froze. "Fuck, that's a big one." His face blanched as he glanced around trying to figure out how to free me from my predicament.

  "Just stay still," he said.

  "Figured that out already," I gritted back.

  The snake finally noticed it had yet another visitor. It turned its vertically slit eyes toward Jameson. It remained coiled and ready for action. Jameson squinted toward the rock I was sitting on. "Looks like you're sitting over his house. I can see a big hole under the rock."

  "Jameson," I squeaked. "I'm starting to freak out," I said in the smallest voice possible.

  He held up his hands. "No, don't do that, Keezy. I'll get you out of this. I'm worried that if I throw something at it to scare it off, it'll lunge. And judging by the amount of coils, I think it could reach you."

  "Not helping." My squeak was followed by a soft sob that I quickly tried to mute by sealing my mouth shut.

  "All right, I've got it," Jameson said. "Since the snake is on the front side of that rock, I'm going to circle around to the back of that boulder and yank you off. We'll have to move fast. Are you ready?"

  I nodded slowly. "I'm scared."

  "It'll be fine. He's more afraid of us than we are of him. At least that's what they always teach you at summer camp. Although, looking at that guy, I'm thinking they've been feeding us a load of bullshit."

  His humor helped relax me enough to take a steady breath and lighten the death hold I had on my legs. My limbs were numb from sitting in the tightly bound position. I kept my face forward, but my eyes shifted to the side, staying fixed on the snake. Jameson made a wide berth around my granite perch. My heart sped up as his shadow fell over me. His hands circled my waist, and with one clean movement, he yanked me off the rock and swept me a safe distance away from the snake.

  I had just been through a harrowing experience and none of it was a fictitious scene on a movie set. I allowed myself to lean against Jameson's hard chest and got temporarily lost in the heady fragrance of his soap and natural scent as he circled his arms around me.

  "Told ya I got this," he said with a chuckle. It rumbled up through his chest as I pressed my face hard against him.

  I finally took a deep breath. "Is it still there?" I muttered into his shirt. "Is it still watching me?" A shivered bolted through me. I had no doubt that those snake eyes would haunt my nightmares for the next six months.

  "I think he slithered into his hole once the trembling woman was removed from his roof." His hand smoothed over my back to comfort me and drive away the trembling that started to overtake me as I finally released my muscles and all the stored up adrenaline. His touch was warm and comforting and all too familiar.

  Suddenly, everything that had been wiped away by the horrifying moments of being stared down by a rattler returned, the stressful movie set, the horrid teeny, tiny girlfriend, the fact that was I was in love with the man who was holding me.

  I stopped burrowing in his shirt and lovely scent and popped my face up to catch my breath. Instantly, I started feeling short of oxygen and my fingers tingled. I struggled to take deeper breaths.

  Jameson's dark brows knitted together. "Keezy? Are you having a panic attack?"

  I sucked in a breath. "No." I sucked in another breath and started to shake the tingling out of my hands. "Maybe." Another deep breath brought my shoulders up around my ears. "Yes."

  "Well, you're in luck because I just happen to be a Keezy panic expert. Now, let's see if I've still got this." He circled around behind me and slowly, gently kneaded my shoulders. He lowered his mouth to my ear and spoke in a deep, calming tone. "Breathe easy. The snake is long gone." As he spoke, his hands moved to my neck where his fingers moved lightly along my neck and collar bones. His fingertips were leaving hot trails on my skin, which was helping my panicked breathing. I was feeling tingly in places that shouldn't have been tingling, given the circumstances.

  "Feeling better?" he asked, his breath warm against my skin.

  I nodded and took a long, steadying breath, then pulled away from his hands. "Damn you, why do you have to be so—so damn you." I smacked his chest with my hands.

  "Ouch." He reached up and rubbed the spot I hit. "What do you mean? What did I do wrong?"

  "Nothing. That's just it. You don't do anything wrong." I swung my arms around and realized I was looking slightly nuts but that didn't stop me. "You grab unconscious people out of thin air, you snatch women away from snake fangs, you soothe the panic away with just your incredible touch and that sexy, deep voice. Fuck that sexy, deep voice and those great hands. Fuck all of it. Fuck this movie. Fuck my life." I broke off into a sob and spun around so he couldn't see me cry. Shelby had mentioned more than once that crying was not my best look.

  "What the hell, Keezy? Why are you so upset? Is that why you hiked way the hell out here by yourself?"

  I wiped gently at a tear. "Why am I always in theater makeup? Can't even have a good cry." I took another deep breath and turned back toward him. Could he have looked any more spectacular? The wardrobe girls sure knew the right color flannel to pair with his perpetually tanned skin and green eyes. "Is it true? Did you really just take this job because you felt sorry for me?"

  "What the hell are you talking about?" He looked genuinely stunned, which gave me some hope. Then I remembered he was, after all, an actor. "Who told you that?"

  "Just a teeny, tiny birdie." I shook my head. "It's not important. Is it true?"

  "No, that's stupid. I wanted to do this. Of course, you were a big part of my decision. But not in the way you think," he added quickly before I could say ah ha!

  "I couldn't handle that, Jameson. You know there's nothing I hate more than being pathetic and pitied. I like to feel sorry for myself occasionally, but only when I'm alone, or, well, with Shelby. Then she teases me about my ducky mouthed pout and I snap out of it."

  His half smile, the one that always led to the sexy crease on the side of his mouth, kicked up. "You do get kind of ducky mouthed when you're pouting. I've always loved it. No one pulls it off better than you, Keezy."

  I couldn't hold back my smile. He reached for my hand and I let him take it. I reveled in the feel of his strong fingers around mine for a second before reminding myself I had to save my heart. Having my heart broken by this man once was enough for a lifetime.

  I casually pulled my hand from his. "I'm sure Sawyer is ready to send me packing after this little adventure. I guess I better get back and face the music." I wasn't entirely sure whether to believe him about what Harlow said but then he was one of the most honest people I knew.

  He combed his long hair back with his fingers, and we hiked back toward the movie set, both of us taking extra precaution not to disturb any slithery critters.

  "Who told you I took this part because I felt sorry for you?" he asked.

  I shook my head and pretended to be more focused on reptile watch. "It's not important." I took two more steps, then noticed he was no longer at my side. He had thrown on the brakes.

  I turned back to him. His jaw was tight and his green eyes had darkened to go with his serious expression. "It was Harlow, wasn't it?"

  I shook my head. "Told you it wasn't important. As long as it's not true." I started walking again, hoping to spur him on and create a topic switch.

  "It's not true and it is important. And your evasive answer tells me I'm right." He sank into h
is own thoughts after that, and I sensed waves of tension rolling off of him. The last thing I wanted was to get into the middle of their relationship.

  "It's not a big deal, Jameson. I'm sure Harlow is just stressed about the two of us being on set together. She has always seemed to hold a grudge against me, even though we split up years ago."

  I wasn't getting any response from my tight lipped rescuer, which wasn't a good sign.

  This time, I stopped. "Look, promise me you won't say anything to her because I can't be a part of any kind of drama between you two. She'll just hate me more. This is already stressful enough. Please, Jameson."

  His dark brows were still low over his eyes. He hadn't released the tension in his jaw. But he nodded. "I won't say anything."

  As we drew closer to the encampment of trailers and well-crafted movies sets, we could hear one sound above everything else, the sound of Sawyer's voice as he yelled through his megaphone. "Has anybody fucking seen the lead actors because I'm about to lose my shit and it won't be pretty."

  Twenty-Nine

  Jameson

  I avoided heading back to my trailer. I knew Harlow had gone in to take a shower and make some phone calls. I also knew it would be better if I didn't see her for a few hours, at least not until filming was done for the morning. I wasn't exactly sure how I was feeling about her or our relationship or any of it at the moment, but it was the last thing I wanted to deal with before shooting the next scenes. Kinsey had split off from me before we'd even reached the trailer. It seemed she was trying to avoid us being seen together. Harlow had certainly stuck her nose into everything now.

  Sawyer was mad about us being late, but he forgave us quickly so we could get things rolling. The next scene was an interior shot of the farmhouse where the chickens were corralled for safety. Followed quickly by an exterior shot in the farmyard. Nate had stayed outside to finish securing shutters. He enters first. Then Tom.

  "Let's get this thing going again. Lock it up out there." Sawyer sounded extra grumpy.

  I waited outside the farmhouse set for my cue. Slate clapped.

  Interior shot of farmhouse. Cassie is tossing out feed for the frazzled chickens, talking to them sweetly as Nate comes inside. He's windswept and has to push the door shut against a strong wind.

  Cassie: Here you go, Henrietta, and, again, I'm so sorry for the inconvenience.

  Nate: Did I just hear you call a chicken Henrietta?

  Kinsey and I exchanged smiles. Everything about her seemed natural, familiar and I could totally see her naming a pet chicken.

  Cassie: Of course. What else should I call them? Chicken one? Chicken two? Names make it easier for me. Besides, I really only have formal names for the ones with personality. Like Henrietta. She is always so proud of her morning egg, she practically rolls it into my basket on her own.

  Cassie walks over to pat the back of a hen. Amused, Nate crosses his arms to listen.

  Cassie: And Beverly is very persnickety about which leftover greens she likes. If they're too wilted, she won't even touch them. I had a friend who was just as persnickety. She had to have her tea cooked to exactly the right temperature and with exactly three drops of lemon or she'd send it back.

  Nate: Let me guess. Her name was Beverly.

  Cassie: Actually, no it was Francine.

  Cassie touches her chin.

  Cassie: Now that you mention it, I suppose I should have named the chicken Francine.

  Nate laughs.

  I didn't have to work at it. I usually hated having to laugh spontaneously on camera, but Kinsey made it easy.

  Tom bursts in and struggles to shut the door. Chickens cluck and get frenzied with his angered entrance. He gets the door closed and looks around at the birds.

  Tom: What the hell are these chickens doing inside?

  Tom reaches for the door and kicks his foot around to shoo them out. Cassie swoops in to keep them from being harmed by his big boot.

  Cassie: They'll die out there in the sandstorm. They were too far from the barn.

  Tom lunges to grab one but misses.

  Tom: Chickens don't belong in the house. They'll make a mess.

  Cassie straightens and stands defiantly between Tom and the birds.

  Cassie: Since I am the one who scrubs this floor on my hands and knees, I think I should be the only one worried about the mess. And I'm not, so the chickens will stay.

  Tom's fists clench in anger. His voice lowers.

  Tom: This is my house and I say put the fucking chickens outside.

  Cassie's chin less defiant but she stands her ground.

  Cassie: The chickens stay.

  Nate: The whole farm is going to be smothered by dust and you're worried about fucking chickens in the house?

  Tom unfurls his fist long enough to point at Nate.

  Tom: You stay out of this. This is between me and my wife, and it's none of your damn business.

  Tom glares at Cassie, then lunges for a chicken. Cassie tries to stop him and a struggle ensues. Tom brings his hand back to slap Cassie. Nate grabs Tom's arm. They both glare harshly at each other. Cassie stands stunned and quiet, watching the exchange with a worried expression.

  Nate: If you ever lay one angry hand on her, I'll—

  Tom: You'll what?

  Roger and I were having no problem sneering and talking through gritted teeth to each other. It was another kind of on screen chemistry, just not the good kind.

  Nate leans in threateningly.

  Nate: I'll kill you.

  A tension filled few seconds pass, then Nate releases his hold on Tom. Tom scrubs his face and walks out of the room, off frame. Cassie and Nate exchange longing gazes.

  I turned to Kinsey. She had picked up a chicken and was staring down at it, stroking its back. Improvised but it worked. She lifted her long lashes, drawing the curtains away from her stunning blue eyes. We were rolling, the boom was looming over us like a giant, intruding tree limb and the set was surrounded with faces, watching. Our gazes crashed and stuck there. The cameras, faces and sound equipment fell away and I was exchanging glances with the girl who had always owned my heart. And with the way she looked back at me, I knew there wasn't just chemistry still bouncing between us. It was in every cell in our bodies. The connection was still there. It had never been broken, not by tabloids, or rumors, or broken hearts or years.

  Nate pulls his gaze away and turns to the door.

  Cassie: Where are you going? It's not safe out there.

  Nate: Going back to the barn. I'll be fine.

  Nate walks out the door. Cassie follows.

  I waited, my heart pounding, for Kinsey to take hold of my arm. The big moment had arrived. I wasn't entirely sure how it was going to play out, but I was plenty fucking nervous about it. Her fingers wrapped around my forearm.

  Cassie: Nate, please.

  I spun around and our gazes clashed again, not just Cassie and Nate's but Kinsey and Jameson's. I could no longer pretend this was all just for the cameras, that we were working up chemistry for the movie. I wanted this kiss as much as Nate had wanted it back when he and Cassie stood on his brother's porch in the middle of a dust storm.

  I pulled Kinsey into my arms, she fell against me, stiff at first before melting against me. The industrial fan blew against us, pelting us with tiny specks of dust. Some of it stuck to her lips as I pressed my mouth hard over hers. Sawyer wanted chemistry. He wanted real passion. He was sure as fuck going to get it. My tongue swept along Kinsey's lips and danced against her tongue as I clutched her tightly against me. I wanted all the cameras and people to disappear so I could just go on holding her body against mine, devouring her sweet lips, listening to the tiny mewling sound that came from her throat as my kiss went deeper.

  "Cut!"

  Sawyer's sharp voice cut through the air. The fan slowed but the people on set were still dead quiet as if the cameras were still rolling. Which they could have been because the two lead actors were still in action. It took all
my will and another shout of cut from Sawyer to pull my mouth from Kinsey's. She lifted her lashes and stared at me with glossy blue eyes.

  "That was fucking perfect." Sawyer snapped us out of our trance. He clapped me on the shoulder. "Fucking awesome. It seems I was right. Think I'll go reward myself with a big, fat, greasy heart wrecking hamburger. Lunch break. I'll send out a group text about this afternoon's scenes," he told the crew members standing around. "Just can't concentrate on it now because I'm on a fucking high, a fucking chemical high right now." He clapped my shoulder again and walked away.

  Kinsey smiled weakly, shrugged and then hurried off.

  Thirty

  Kinsey

  My feet moved quickly over the lumpy asphalt as I headed toward the trailer. I should have been flustered, nerve wracked, confused, but I was unusually calm and sane. The kiss, the part of the scene I'd been worked up about had gone smoothly. In fact, smoothly wasn't the right word. Smoking hot. Better phrase. That should have sent me into a tizzy because an amazing kiss right in the center of my internal battle about my feelings for Jameson should have pushed me over the edge. But instead, I felt pleasantly satisfied. (Not in the way I would have liked to have been satisfied, but mentally.) I knew now I could get through the movie scenes, including sexually tense scenes with Jameson and I would survive. On top of that, the movie might just be a repeat of Forever Kisses, a megahit with a lasting legacy. Then Jameson and I could go our separate ways. He would again be taking a piece of my heart with him but I'd survive. I'd done it before. I could weather it again. I had no choice really since he had the teeny, tiny woman in his life.