Chemistry

by Tess Oliver

  Jameson released his strong, wonderful grip on me and reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Penny for your thoughts," he said. Warmth spread through me as his fingertip grazed my cheek.

  I smiled and shook my head. "They aren't even worth a penny. Just having fun and glad to be heading off to break, just like everyone else."

  The music slowed and our pace slowed too.

  "About damn time," Jameson said with a tilted smile. "In high school, every guy waited for the slow dance."

  I chuckled. "You think we girls didn't know that?"

  Jameson's arms curled around my back. Without hesitation, he pulled me closer. Our bodies pressed together. I could feel every muscle on his hard stomach as the miniscule space between us disappeared more. I rested my head against his shoulder, deciding to relish every second with him before he traipsed off to be with his girlfriend.

  "How are you feeling about this movie?" His deep voice cascaded over me as I kept my head on his shoulder.

  "Pretty darn good." I stared out at the rowdy, spontaneous party going on around us, but all I could think about were his hands touching me, his arms holding me against him. So this was what Cassie meant when she said the rest of the world peeled away and the only things left were the two of us. It was as if nothing else existed at that moment, just Jameson and me, moving slowly around the dance floor. We were no longer moving to the rhythm of the music. We were just moving in unison, pressed closely against each other, dangerously close. Every part of me reacted to his touch. The strength of his arms, the warmth of his body, the scent of his soap, it was all so damn intoxicating I couldn't help but fantasize about Jameson taking my hand, pulling me back to his trailer to rip off my clothes and restart where we'd left off nine years ago.

  "Hey, Keezy," he said quietly.

  "Yeah?" I asked without lifting my head. A head lift meant I'd have to stare right into his eyes, and I wasn't sure I could stop myself from kissing him.

  "I'm glad we decided to do this movie." He squeezed me tighter against him.

  "And you two doubted this whole thing." Sawyer's voice jarred us out of our moment.

  I lifted my head and pushed back to let Jameson know he should drop his arms. Even though I could have stayed in his embrace until the desert sun sank in the sky and the stars filled in the void with their twinkling lights.

  "Don't let me interrupt this sweet, little scene," Sawyer said.

  Jameson arched a brow at him. "Too late."

  "Oh, well, then, I'll just say what I needed to say, then let you two get back to whatever that was I just witnessed." Sawyer added an annoying wink to his insinuation.

  He placed a clumsy, heavy hand on each of our shoulders. Apparently, he'd already been celebrating the successful dance scene with his drink of choice, vodka on ice. "Let me just say that you two rock. You are the best damn leads I've ever worked with. Since the wife and I are done having babies, I can't promise that we'll name a kid after you, but you two can name your first kid after me." He smiled broadly. "Now get back to the cute little off camera romance thing. It'll help get you in the mood for the rain scene." He winked again, but this one took more effort and was sort of slow motion.

  Jameson chuckled. "Guess those vodkas work fast."

  "Yep, because I'm a total lightweight. Now, as you were." Sawyer took my hand and tried to put it on Jameson's shoulder.

  I stopped him. "Actually, I've got lines to learn and I'm feeling a little tired."

  Jameson looked genuinely disappointed.

  Sawyer walked away on heavy feet.

  "You sure, Keezy? Thought we could do a few more twirls around the dance floor."

  "I'm sure you can find a new dance partner."

  Then, I did something that should have been as natural as me pulling on a pair of socks. I placed my hand on his face, hopped up on toes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. It was something I'd done a million times with a dozen different friends, only Jameson wasn't in the friend category. I had to create an entire category just for him. But his reaction was what threw me off balance. As I rocked back onto my heels, Jameson took hold of my hand to keep me from turning away. He stared at me with a look that sent heat swirling through my entire body. My frazzled state might have led me to misinterpret the look, but it sure as heck seemed that he was thinking about the same erotic scenario as me, one that started with clothes being hastily ripped from our bodies and ended with both of us exhausted, covered in perspiration and smiling with satisfaction.

  I tugged my hand lightly away. "Thank you for the dance," I said politely, then turned and walked off. I threw in an extra sway of my hips just in case he was watching. And with the way he had looked at me just seconds before, I was fairly certain of it.

  Thirty-Five

  Jameson

  The special effects crew was preparing for the rain scene. In reality, only Kinsey and I would be getting soaking wet, but on film, it would look as if a deluge of rain was soaking the entire landscape. Roger and I had finished filming our big scene in the morning. The tension between the brothers, Nate and Tom, grew more heated as Nate realized he was madly in love with Cassie. The failing farm, continuous drought and every other problem that would normally come between two brothers trying to run a family farm together caused so much friction that they barely spoke civil words to each other. It was hard to tell for certain from the diary entries if Tom suspected Nate's feelings for Cassie or vice versa. It seemed he was a sort of distant guy, who didn't care much for friends or human interaction in general. Cassie made one thing clear in her diary, Tom grew more and more dependent on moonshine whiskey as he saw his farm, his future and even his family falling apart. He also blamed her for them not having a baby.

  The scene between Tom and Nate was an argument about how the land was being farmed. It was also the first time Nate mentions the notion of abandoning the farm and moving west to California, an idea Tom waves off as stupid. The fight leaves Tom angry and despondent, and he drinks himself into a stupor. He is out cold when an unexpected rainstorm hits the dry, dusty farm. That was when their lives changed dramatically.

  Sawyer texted as I headed out of wardrobe. "Quick meeting before we start filming. Stop by my chair." He had sent the same message to Kinsey.

  Kinsey was coming from the opposite direction. I was growing pretty damn fond of the vintage calico dresses the costumers had sewn for her. The thin fabric always had a way of clinging to her long legs just enough to suck me right in. After holding her in my arms, while we danced the night before, I spent a good hour just staring up at the trailer ceiling thinking about holding her naked in my arms. It had been nearly ten years, way too fucking long. But I was in the same damn predicament as Nate, lusting and obsessing over a woman I would never be able to have.

  Kinsey smiled shyly at me and fidgeted with her hair as we both neared Sawyer, who was just finishing with instructions for the camera crew. He spotted us and sent the others off.

  Sawyer didn't stand from his chair as he looked at each of us, first Kinsey, then me, then back at Kinsey. "Everything good?" It was a general question, but we knew exactly what he meant.

  "Yep," I said, and looked at Kinsey.

  She bit her lip, something she did when she was tense, before nodding. At least she wasn't pacing and shaking her hands to thwart a panic attack. "Yes, all good."

  "All right then. We're going to start in the farmyard, in the rain, where Cassie is trying to corral the chickens into the coop. Then, as I'm sure you already know"—he smiled teasingly—"the scene continues inside the barn. I've instructed the lighting crew to make it look like the glow of a lantern. There won't be any extra crew members on deck to keep it as intimate as possible. Also, I'm sure you noticed that there are no action cues for that scene. I decided to let you two take the lead on that. That way it'll seem more natural." Sawyer focused on Kinsey. "I know on Forever Kisses the sex scenes occasionally started a panic attack but—"

  "I've grown up a bit sinc
e then. And I've filmed more than one sex scene since that movie. I'm fine," she said curtly, then walked away shaking her hands discretely at her sides.

  Sawyer caught it too. "Uh oh, she's shaking her hands." He looked at me. "That's her signal that she's close to a panic attack," he told me, unnecessarily.

  "I'll catch up to her and make sure she's all right," I said.

  "Good idea. I don't need to tell you how important it is to get this scene right," Sawyer said, again unnecessarily.

  "Not sure how you telling me that is going to help. Just handle the crew and I'll handle the leading lady."

  I caught up to Kinsey. "Everything all right?"

  "Argh, why does everyone keep asking me that?" She turned to me. There was an edge of something I'd seen too often in her pretty face, hurt. She was upset about something. But I also knew her well enough not to ask what was bothering her.

  "As you know too well"—she looked pointedly at me—"I lost my virginity at nineteen to a boy that I was crushing on so hard I nearly lost my mind with delirium every time he kissed me. I think I can handle one short, dimly lit sex scene with that same boy, who is now a man. I've grown up a lot since then. We both have. I think I can handle this scene without losing my head." She was staring at me with those big blue eyes as she spoke, but it seemed as if she was talking to herself, trying to convince herself everything was going to be a snap.

  "Keezy." I tried to take her hand.

  She pulled it away. "No, please, no touching. Don't stand there with—" She waved her arm in a circle in front of me. "You know—with all that Jameson Slate glory, with those fucking green eyes and that jawline—I mean, when the hell did that jaw become so fucking manly? And those shoulders—" She shook her head. "I'll be right back. I need a little time alone." She spun away and hurried toward her trailer.

  I stood and watched her disappear inside, flicking her hands to shake off nerves. Sometimes, Kinsey was a hard person to unwrap. She was as complicated as she was easy to read. This time it was the latter. It seemed I wasn't the only one still aching from our breakup.

  Thirty-Six

  Kinsey

  A five minute meditation after my small meltdown in front of Jameson had helped calm my nerves. He was the last person I would have chosen for that particular rant, but Shelby was not around. Boy, did I miss that girl. I was keenly feeling how hard it must have been for Cassie to be in her situation and all alone, with no one to confide in but her diary. It must have been so frustrating for her.

  Everything was set for the rain and the follow-up scene in the barn. I'd kept it titled as the follow-up scene in my brain because then it felt less notable, as if it was just going to be a little chat with my costar. The animal trainer had brought out a few chickens again just for the scene, birds that he claimed didn't mind a little rain. Apparently, chickens were not big fans of getting wet.

  Jameson was standing off to the side, talking to a few of the crew members. I knew he was there, but I made a point of not looking his direction. I was feeling more than a little silly about my rambling speech. It also helped keep my nerves calm not to make eye contact.

  It had taken the team all morning to set up for the scene. The late afternoon air was surprisingly chilly. After living out in the desert for a few months, I realized just what a wild and unique place it was, filled with critters who somehow managed to find food, water and shelter in a sea of dry sand and temperatures that fluctuated at least fifty degrees from morning until nightfall. Sawyer had been right to settle on the location. The endless dust storms and bone dry air made it easier to feel the despair and discomfort Cassie, Tom and Nate felt during the terrible drought.

  But today, there would be rain. It was a turning point in Cassie's life and somehow it felt like a turning point in my own life. I was going to have to move right on after this movie, keeping myself busy so I could once again work through the anguish of erasing Jameson from my life. I'd considered briefly trying to at least remain friends, but I was sure Harlow wouldn't be too pleased about the idea, and it would only make things harder for me. Nope, a clean bandage rip off was in order so that I could get back to my life.

  "Let's get this going. The temperature is dropping fast," Sawyer called through his megaphone. "Cassie and Nate," he continued, "I don't need to remind you, but, what the fuck, I will anyhow, if we don't get this take right, the two of you have to start over in wardrobe, hair and makeup. So, let's get it right the first time. Find your marks."

  My mark was just off scene. Jameson was starting off from the barn. The prop crew had done an admirable job building a very rustic barn, complete with silvery worn planks of wood. The inside was mostly empty set, but the area where most of the scene would be filmed looked like the true interior of a barn with racks for rakes and hoes.

  I was almost thankful for the distraction of the rain and the flurrying chickens. They were a good way to start the scene, giving me a chance to get into character. I was Cassie and the man who would come out of the barn to help me corral chickens was Nate. Thunder and lightning would be added in later, but the rain would fall once the scene started.

  Jameson had disappeared inside the barn, which helped me settle my heartbeat a bit. I paced in a small circle around my mark while Sawyer dealt with some technical problems. I startled when Sawyer said, "Lock it up".

  I placed my comfortable flat shoes on my mark and closed my eyes to wait for the action cue. The slate snapped and I took a deep breath.

  "Action."

  Exterior shot: Cassie steps into the frame and rain starts, slow at first. She is trying to get the last of her chickens into the coop. Deluge starts soon after.

  Cassie: Come on, girls, let's move those tail feathers. You don't want those pretty plumes to get wet.

  I scooted around after the chickens as light raindrops fell on my head and the birds. They started to squawk and run in circles to avoid the water. They were not happy birds.

  Cassie: Wrong way, Brown Betty. Let's get you into the nice dry coop.

  Cassie squints up to the sky and closes her eyes to enjoy the water. Nate steps into view in the doorway of the barn. He watches as she chases the chickens.

  Two of the birds, tired of the raindrops, dashed out of frame. They'd be edited out eventually. I circled around to keep the other birds in front of the camera.

  Cassie catches a glimpse of Nate watching her.

  Cassie: A gentleman would help the wet maiden gather up her chickens rather than stand in the dry doorway with a wry smile.

  Nate: Nope, this is way more fun.

  The rain gets heavier.

  I'd mentally prepared for the sudden downpour, but the water was far colder than expected. I gasped but Sawyer kept the cameras rolling. The chickens were getting panicked and ran in every direction. I chased after two and discovered that the thin desert sand turned quickly to mud under buckets of water. I slipped and fell to my knees. Not part of the script but Sawyer kept rolling.

  A large hand was in front of my face. Jameson, who had always managed to look extra stunning when soaking wet, stared down at me with a twinkle in his eyes. We were totally adlibbing, but Sawyer kept going. I placed my hand in his and he lifted me to my feet. The heavy rain washed the grit from my dress. We were both wet through and through.

  Back to the script.

  Nate starts to round up the chickens with Cassie.

  Nate: Guess I have more gentleman in me than I figured.

  A few minutes of chicken chasing had us laughing wildly. Not technically part of the script but, somehow, I was certain that Nate and Cassie had laughed just like us when they herded chickens in a downpour.

  The trainer gets all the birds off screen into the pretend coop. The rain grows heavier. Nate grabs Cassie's hand and leads her to the shelter of the barn.

  Jameson and I were still laughing as the rain machine followed us, pounding us with heavy, cold drops until we reached the interior shot in the barn. I was half trembling from the cold and from
what was about to happen. All of it real. I have no doubt Cassie was shivering and laughing just as wildly as me when her true love, Nate, pulled her out of the cold rain.

  Sawyer had decided to let this perceived magic he'd always seen between us happen without script or action cues. From that point on, the script fell away, and it was Jameson and Kinsey standing in a barn. Cameras were rolling but I pushed them easily out of my mind as I got lost in Jameson's heated gaze. He was Nate but there was far more Jameson standing in front of me, his dark, long hair dripping, his long lashes clumped in black spikes, beads of water on his skin.

  Jameson took my hand. "You're trembling, Cass. You're cold."

  I stared back at him, letting him know that it wasn't Cassie staring back at him but Keezy, the girl whose heart he stole ten years earlier. Holy shit, did he still own it, every damn bit of it.

  I shook my head. "It's not from the cold," I said so quietly I wondered if the mic picked it up.

  "Cassie," he said in a harsh whisper just before slamming his mouth hard over mine.

  My knees filled with jelly and every part of me, trembling and wet, reacted to his kiss, his tongue as it brushed over my lips. The kiss deepened as his fingers found the buttons on the dress. I felt each one slide open as his tongue drove deeper into my mouth.

  I reached for the hem of his shirt. Our mouths parted long enough to send puffs of white breath into the cold damp atmosphere of the barn and to peel his wet shirt up and off his body. My hands smoothed over his chest, all of it feeling heartbreakingly familiar. He was bigger, more filled out and more well muscled than the nineteen-year-old Jameson I remembered.