She gave a little squeal and took off running as Matt gave chase. They ran in circles, stooping to grab leaves to throw at each other, laughing breathlessly.
“Truce!” Erin finally squealed. She was bent over, still clutching a handful of leaves as she rested her fists on her thighs, panting to catch her breath.
“Truce,” Matt agreed. He came closer and she straightened as he reached to pull bits of gold and red leaves from her hair. The fog from their breath mingled in the chilly air.
Erin’s eyes were sparkling and her cheeks glowed pink. His hand stilled in her hair as their eyes met, her rose-gold strands twined in his fingers.
She met his eyes and gave him a shy smile as he took a careful, steadying breath and leaned forward, eyes already sliding shut.
She met him halfway, her arms slipping around his waist as their lips met. She tasted like cinnamon and apples and smelled like the faintly dusty smell of dead leaves.
Something deep inside of Matt broke free and ... breathed. A sense of calm washed over him even as his lips pressed harder on Erin’s, wanting more, seeking more.
She responded and let him pull her closer until her body was pressed against his. Her hands moved up his back and tangled in his hair as her lips parted under his to allow him to get even closer.
For one second, everything was perfect. Then ...
“Gotcha!” Erin pulled the collar of his shirt open and dumped her handful of leaves down his back. “Better hope there aren’t spiders!” she sang as she backed away, giggling.
Matt’s stomach turned to lead. He spun quickly so she couldn’t see his face as he untucked the hem of his shirt and shook the leaves out.
“I’m sorry,” she said, laughing. “Let me help.”
She came toward him, but he moved off, forcing a laugh. “It’s okay; I got it.” Disappointment boiled in his gut. “You ready to go home?”
They walked back to their building in silence and when they reached Erin’s door she gave him a big smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thanks, I had a great time,” she said with forced casualness.
“Me too.”
“I am sorry about the leaves,” she said. “I couldn’t resist.”
“I figured.” He gave her a half smile and turned to go.
“Matt?”
He turned back, hoping desperately to hear something more, something meaningful.
They looked at each other for a long moment, and finally Erin bit her lip. “Let me know if you want help with the dog?”
He nodded and loosened his grip on the leash so Roswell could pull him down the hall.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why had he kissed her? He’d thought she wanted it. Had he totally misread her? He didn’t think so. He knew her too well, knew her body language and the emotions that flashed across her face. She’d wanted him to kiss her. At least she’d wanted it right up until she’d suddenly changed her mind and hadn’t wanted it.
He slammed his way into his apartment with a growl of frustration. What was she so afraid of?
**
Chapter 17
Erin had an early rehearsal call the next morning. It was their first day on the stage and the beginning of tech week—an endless cycle of day turning to night while the cast and crew worked out kinks in sets, lighting, sound, costumes, entrances, exits, pacing, and anything else that could and did go wrong.
At least she had something to take her mind off Matt. Their kiss had been on a constant loop in her head, forcing her to re-live the softness of his lips contrasting with the roughness of his jaw, the way his breath was hot on her mouth, and the shiver that had run all the way to her toes when he’d pulled her closer. Had he always had such strong arms and she’d never noticed? Thinking the kiss now sent a yearning pounding through her.
But this was Matt. He wasn’t what she wanted. Once the novelty wore off, there could only be heartbreak.
Scratch that—there was probably heartbreak now. She knew she’d hurt him. Shoving the leaves down his shirt was childish and mean, but it had been the first thing she’d thought of to break up the mood and put some distance between them.
Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe he’d been as caught up in the moment as she was and now after he’d had a night to think it over, maybe he felt as unsure as she did.
But even as the thought entered her mind, she knew it wasn’t true. If Matt was unsure about anything, it wasn’t about kissing her. He’d known exactly what he was doing. His doubts would be coming from her reaction.
She’d tried to text him a dozen times but each time, she’s just stared at the screen, her mind unable to form the right words. What could she say to him? Were they still friends? Or had they crossed the bridge and now it was too late?
She sighed and entered the auditorium, taking a seat in the front row. The stage was painted all black and set with a Victorian living room including a round wood table, a brick fireplace, and a fussy settee of plum upholstery and overly carved wood. Several pieces were still missing, such as artwork for the fireplace mantel, books for the bookshelves, and the rugs for the floors.
Mona, Jerome Kirby, and Sean were standing clustered near the fireplace. Their body language radiated tension.
“Whoa, what’s going on there?” Jocelyn sat down next to Erin and tilted her head toward the group on the stage.
“I don’t know. No one’s saying a word.”
More members of the cast filtered in and, noting the subdued atmosphere, took seats near Erin and Jocelyn. After about ten minutes, Mona stepped to the front of the stage and cleared her throat. “We need to have a brief meeting before we begin today.” She shaded her eyes against the stage lights and peered toward the sound booth at the back of the theater. “The crew as well, please?”
The first rows of seats filled quickly with actors, stage crew, costumers, lighting and sound technicians, and the rest of the small army it took to produce a successful show.
Mona waited until everyone was seated and quiet. “Welcome to tech week,” she announced brightly, waving her arm at the stage. “As you can see, our set is coming along. I know today is supposed to be a tech rehearsal, but I’m hoping to spend the morning on lighting cues and have a full run-through after lunch.”
Erin raised an eyebrow at Jocelyn.
Mona took a deep breath before continuing. “As I’m sure some of you are already aware, Jacob decided to leave us.”
A ripple of shock spread through the cast and crew and Erin’s heart sank. Turnover among a cast was common, but not this close to opening night. Not when the cast had been working together for months and had, hopefully, gelled into a cohesive group bound by common purpose and experience.
Everyone turned to look at Mitchell, Jacob’s understudy. He sat a little apart from the others and kept his head down, evidentially finding his phone much more engrossing.
“So Mitchell is taking over?” Jocelyn finally asked Mona.
Mona shook her head. “We’ve decided to go in another direction. I’ve hired a new actor who will be arriving this afternoon, which is why we’ll be doing a run-through instead of tech. We’ll work this morning on scenes that don’t include his character.”
Erin found her voice. “But it’s seven days. How can we possibly—”
“Jacob’s replacement is a dedicated professional,” Mona interrupted. “I have every confidence he will be ready for opening night.” She pinched her lips together in a very Mona-esque indication that the subject was closed. “We have a few more details to work out with regards to lighting, so let’s be ready for scene one in fifteen minutes.” She turned her back on the auditorium to resume her conversation with Jerome and Sean.
There was a moment of stunned silence. Then people gradually dispersed.
“I totally called it.” Shasha moved seats to plop down beside Erin. “I wish he’d had the guts to quit before now, the moron.”
“Do you think he’s trying to sabotage the show?” Jocelyn had a worried frown be
tween her eyebrows.
“I think he’s just a jerk,” Erin grumbled.
“Okay, but what’s Mitchell’s story?” Sasha shot a glance at Mitchell. He hadn’t moved and they could hear the music blaring through his headphones. “Why isn’t he taking over?”
“Please,” Jocelyn scoffed. “Mitchell can’t handle that part and everyone knows it.”
After another twenty minutes, Mona announced they were ready to begin and the actors took their places on stage. Erin tried to play it cool as she walked through act one, pausing at each mark so the lighting technicians could aim and program the lights, but she was rattled. So much depended on the success of this play. Her dad had made it clear if it didn’t work out, this could be the end of her acting career.
They were almost to the end of act two when a door at the back of the auditorium burst open and in strode ... Erin did a double take.
“That’s Brennan Avery!” Jocelyn gasped.
Brennan Avery. As in—handsome, rich, Tony award-winning, face on the cover of every magazine, bona fide Broadway star—Brennan freaking Avery. He had dark shoulder-length hair, dark eyes that glittered under heavy eyebrows, and a firm jawline sporting a day’s worth of stubble. He strode gracefully down the aisle, exuding an air of confidence and pure sex appeal.
Erin glanced down at her black yoga pants and blue, bleach-stained sweatshirt with a sinking feeling. Everyone was grungy during tech week. Well, except for Brennan Avery, apparently. He wore designer jeans, a plaid flannel shirt, and tan hiking boots that probably cost more than her monthly rent. Was it too late to run home and change? Or run to the mall and buy and entire new outfit? And get a makeover while she was at it?
A new thought hit her with a jolt. She locked eyes with Jocelyn and knew they were thinking the same thing. “I get to kiss him!” Erin whispered in equal part excitement and terror.
“I hate you,” Jocelyn whispered back. “You totally have to take a night off during the run so I can understudy.”
“Brennan!” Mona hurried forward for a hug. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.”
“My pleasure.” Brennan’s voice resonated around the theater. He was already taking command of the stage and he wasn’t even on it yet.
As Mona led them through the introductions, Brennan gave everyone the same measured look, polite but non-committal. When he got to Erin, she was surprised to see a tiny spark of interest flare in his eyes—probably because she played the lead. Maybe he was thinking about kissing her, too.
Don’t be stupid, she told herself firmly.
“Brennan is already familiar with the script,” Mona announced, “so how about we dive right in? Brennan, can you note the blocking while we rehearse?”
Brennan nodded, ever gorgeous.
“Ohhhh, I want to run my fingers through his hair,” Jocelyn sing-songed to Erin as they made their way backstage.
Okay, if Erin couldn’t have a full makeover in the next thirty seconds, could she at least ditch the practice hoop? Was that too much to ask for? The white slip was lined with rigid hoops in ever-increasing sizes and made her look like a gigantic bell. Not the most attractive look, especially paired with a dingy sweatshirt.
But leaving off the hoop wasn’t an option. Not only would it be completely unprofessional, Mona would call her out for forgetting her costume and that would be more embarrassing than just wearing the stupid thing.
With a sigh, Erin pulled the skirt on and tied the ribbon at her waist.
Ring-a-ding-ding.
“So ... you’re Charlotte?” a deep voice asked.
She turned quickly, sending the hoop swirling around her hips. Brennan was at her side, looking even dreamier, and even taller, than he had from a distance.
She clapped her hands to her sides to stop the swirling hoops. “Erin,” she corrected automatically. Then she realized he meant her character. “I mean, yes, I am. I’m Charlotte ... I mean, I’m playing Charlotte,” she stammered. Heat rushed to her face and she had never been so grateful for the dim backstage lighting to hide her blush.
Brennan gave her a lopsided grin. “Nice to meet you. I guess we’ll be working together pretty closely for the next few weeks.”
Something about the way he said “closely” made her heart race.
“Uh ... yeah,” she managed.
“Let’s get started,” Mona called from the audience.
Brennan was not only familiar with the script, he had most of his lines memorized, further confirming Erin’s suspicion that this was not a last minute replacement. Mona had clearly been one step ahead of Jacob. They worked their way through the show at a slower than usual pace, pausing frequently so Brennan could scribble notes on his script.
Finally they reached the first kiss between Charlotte and Heger.
Erin’s heart was in her throat and she couldn’t get her pulse under control.
She made it through her lines without incident, but when Brennan/Heger grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him, her tension was real.
Jacob’s eyes were gray and had always been rather cold, but Brennan’s were a deep, warm hazel, flecked with brown. He stared at her, sending goosebumps shivering down her arms.
“Charlotte, you must not say these things anymore. A man in my position ... do you understand?”
“I cannot help myself,” Erin/Charlotte cried, breaking free from his grasp. “The poor do not need much to live on, only crumbs from the rich man’s table. I do not ask for much affection from those I love, but I do need a little. I cling to the preservation of this little I have been given.”
Brennan/Heger whirled away, leaving Erin/Charlotte standing there, bereft. She stared at Brennan’s broad back, the black hair curling over the collar of his shirt. As she remembered the intensity of his eyes, she was overwhelmed by a deep, resonating grief, more potent than anything she’d been able to reach with Jacob.
The script called for her to whisper a single word: “Please?” But her throat closed, and in that moment, all she could do was clap her hand to her mouth and give voice to a deep cry of anguish that seemed to come from her toes.
Brennan didn’t hesitate. He turned and crossed to her in two long strides. His hands grabbed her shoulders again, but instead of pushing her away, this time he yanked her closer, almost violently. His mouth descended and what had been a very chaste kiss with Jacob, became something else entirely. A wild roaring filled Erin’s ears as she clung to him desperately.
“Cut!” Mona hollered from the audience.
The spell was broken. Brennan stepped back and let go of Erin’s shoulders, while Erin struggled to remember where she was, or even who she was.
Mona got up and came to the edge of the stage, beckoning them to come closer.
Erin winced. She’d blown it.
For a moment, Mona stared at them. Then, finally she let out a gigantic breath. “I’m almost speechless,” she said. “That was ... I can’t ...” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “Yes. Just ... yes,” she whispered, placing one hand on her chest almost reverently. “Erin, I really connected with Charlotte’s vulnerability in a way I hadn’t before. You’re going to have to bring that same level to all of your scenes.”
Erin nodded, relieved she’d pulled it off.
“Looks like we should practice that some more,” Brennan threw her a grin.
Her lips were still warm from his. Yes, they definitely should practice some more ... lots more.
**
Chapter 18
Matt sighed and scraped the last of his brownie from the mug. “She’s not usually this late,” he said to Sarah, who was curled up at the opposite end of the couch. They’d been watching TV, but Matt was getting impatient. He and Erin didn’t have any plans tonight, but he’d been burning with an urgency to see her all day. After their kiss yesterday, they needed to talk.
Sarah scrolled through the Netflix menu. “She treats you like dirt, you know,” she said out of the blue.
“That’s n
ot true. She’s just ... impulsive and kind of irrational at times.”
“Yeah, not really what most people want in a girlfriend.”
“But there are good parts too,” he said loyally. “Her impulsiveness is usually because she’s trying to help. Like this dog-sitting thing, Erin doesn’t even know Mrs. Brinkerhoff very well, but she needed help and Erin didn’t hesitate, she jumped in with both feet, ready to do whatever she could.”
“But look who got stuck with the dog.”
“That isn’t her fault.”
“It’s certainly not mine!” Sarah bristled.
“It’s no one’s fault,” Matt backpedaled quickly. “A miscommunication, that’s all.”
“Look, I live with her,” Sarah countered, “and she can be great, I know. But I think she takes advantage of you. And if it hasn’t happened by now ...” she trailed off, leaving him to finish the sentence.
Matt sighed. “Believe me, I’ve tried to tell myself that many times.”
Sarah’s attention wandered back to the TV, but Matt’s mind was on Erin. He’d thought long and hard about how things were between them. It had been two years and any logical person would have given up by now. But he couldn’t. He’d tried—he’d even dated other women, but nothing clicked. Maybe because all the other girls he dated all shared one key quality: the quality of not being Erin.
Besides, she’d let him kiss her. No matter what she’d tried to pull with the leaves afterward, he knew she’d wanted him to kiss her. He wasn’t about to give up yet.
They both turned at the sound of a key in the lock. Erin rushed in looking flushed and breathless. Her eyes were sparkling.
“How did it go? he asked, even though it was obvious she’d had a great rehearsal.
Erin let out a dreamy sigh and flopped down on the couch. “Unbelievable,” she squealed. “You’ll never guess who joined the cast!” Hurriedly, she told them about Brennan. “And oh my gosh, he’s incredible!” she finished. “The chemistry between our characters clicked like that.” She snapped her fingers. “Mona says it adds a new layer to the play.”
Matt felt like he’d swallowed an icicle; a cold dread swept through him. He hadn’t expected her to come home and run straight to his arms. But he really hadn’t expected this excitement, this dreamy look in her eyes, a look he knew wasn’t for him.
The Passionate One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance Page 8
