by Shayla Black
Instead, she offered a dutiful “Of course,” exited the trailer, and headed straight toward the person who always made her feel better. About everything.
* * * *
Keaton wiped his hands on a towel and slipped his gloves back on. He glanced up and found Brooke still sitting off in a corner, talking on the phone, her face illuminated by the screen of her iPad.
He wished he had his phone so he could text her right now. Ask her to go out to dinner with him tonight. He wanted to take her somewhere nice. Somewhere she could wear a pretty dress and heels. Where they could get a bottle of wine and appetizers and sit for hours. Talk and eat and laugh and hold hands and kiss.
But it was just as well that he didn’t have his phone. Because he couldn’t ask her to do that. There were too many members of various film crews swarming this town to risk someone seeing them alone together. They couldn’t chance starting a rumor. Their rendezvous would have to be private for the time being, which was fine with Keaton. There was nothing he wanted more. But he also wanted Brooke to know that this was about more than just sex for him. That he’d meant what he’d said last night.
Cameron came up to Keaton and offered him a bottle of water. Keaton took it and tipped it to his mouth, drinking deep.
The stagehand belaying the ropes for Keaton’s fight sequence, Russ, approached to get Cam’s news.
“Our stunt double’s currently stuck in the Calgary airport,” Cam said, taking a swig from his own water. “Her plane needs a part for the tail. And since it’s a Swedish airline, and it seems there is only one of these parts currently in existence, take one guess where that part has to come from.”
“You’re fuckin’ kidding me,” Keaton said.
“Nope. And that one thing is backing up all the flights, so she can’t get even get a decent standby spot until tomorrow.”
“Where’s FedEx when you need ’em?” Russ asked.
Cameron laughed. “She’ll be here tomorrow.” He looked at the set, then told Keaton, “I guess we could just skip over that part of the stunt and practice the ending fight.”
“The last fight is easy. We barely need a run-through to be ready there. I want to get this film back on schedule.”
Russ scratched his head and glanced around the warehouse. “What about pulling in a replacement? We’ve got a lot of fresh meat to choose from.”
Keaton thought about that for a moment. He glanced at the maze of metal, then scanned the catwalk to the jump point. From there his gaze darted to the landing point. “For you to get the pull on the ropes just right,” he told Russ, “it would have to be someone very close to Jillian’s weight. Otherwise, we’d be wasting our time. And Jillian’s skin and bones.”
“She’s not that small,” Russ said. “She’s tall, so her weight is distributed, but I’d bet she weighs a solid one hundred and twenty. She was in here yesterday bragging about her weight-lifting routine.”
Keaton huffed. Whatever. He wasn’t even going there.
“Okay, who have we got?” Cam said, turning to scan the other staff and crew. “Alana? Grace? Hell, I don’t think Mack weighs over a hundred and ten.”
Keaton’s gaze darted to Brooke. She was perfect. And just the thought of hooking her into safety lines and flying across the warehouse with her gave his belly a tingle. She would love it. But they were keeping their distance at work. So he said, “Sure, any one of those should—”
“I’d rather not use Mack,” Russ told them. “Men are just denser than women, and it may sound weird, but I’ve worked these cables a long time, and there’s a difference when I try to lift them. I think Alana’s about twenty pounds too heavy, and Grace is a serious lightweight. She might be ninety-eight pounds soaking wet.”
Keaton heaved a breath and rubbed a hand over his face, then pointed to a young intern. “There’s Logan.”
“Nah, too heavy.” Russ said. “Hey, didn’t I see Brooke over there in the corner? She’s just about right.”
There was no “about” to it. Brooke was perfect—in more ways than how her weight would work for this stunt. But Keaton wanted to keep her just right, so he said “She wouldn’t be interested—”
“How do you know, man?” Cam said. “You haven’t even asked. Yo, Brooke,” he called before Keaton could stop him. She looked up. “Can you come over for a second?”
She hesitated, glanced around the warehouse, then stood and started toward them. She’d dressed down today—casual Friday, she’d told him last night—in jean shorts and a sleeveless blouse that gently followed the curves of her breasts and abdomen, stopping just beyond the low waistband of her jeans, teasing Keaton into believing he’d get a glimpse of skin if she moved just the right way.
The filtered sun from the skylights above created an ethereal halo around her. Her sandals made the softest clip, clip, clip across the cement and sparkled in the scattered light. She’d pulled her hair up into a ponytail, played down her makeup, and looked so fuckin’ adorable, Keaton wanted to eat her alive. He wanted to take her somewhere tropical and secluded where she could dress in string bikinis—or nothing—twenty-four hours a day. Where they could lose themselves in each other for an entire month. In fact, he never wanted to let anything get between them again.
She slipped her hands into her pockets and came to a stop in front of them with a sweet smile on her beautiful face, her bright eyes alight with her characteristic eagerness to please. Keaton’s heart rolled in his chest. He’d found his girl. His very own perfect match, the same way so many of his Renegades buddies had finally found theirs. He knew it with complete certainty, and the realization created an effervescent sizzle over his skin.
In that moment, as she shared a secret smile with him, everything inside Keaton calmed. And with all the chaos quieted, his emotions came forward, taking center stage, telling him that Brooke wasn’t just his girl. Brooke was The One.
“What’s up, guys?” she asked. “Can I grab you some water? Do you need a lunch run?”
“No, no,” Cam said. “We actually need you right here.”
“Um.” She smiled, shrugged. “Okay.”
“Not if you’re in the middle of something,” Keaton added. When she met his gaze, he said, “We know your work for Jillian comes first.”
A smiled lifted her lips, and she gave him the slightest nod. “I’m okay there.” Then to Russ, she asked, “What do you need?”
Keaton watched her expression as Russ explained the stunt. Her gaze met Keaton’s, searching for security, then lifted to the catwalk, twenty feet in the air, and followed it to the end. “Out there? You want me to stand out there?”
“You really don’t—” Keaton started, but she put up her hand.
“I’m just asking questions.”
Cam shoulder-cocked Keaton a couple of steps sideways, then put a hand in the middle of his back and shoved. “Let’s find a harness that will fit her.”
Keaton twisted to knock Cam’s hand away, and found his fellow Renegade grinning. “What are you smiling about?”
“Never seen you caught up in a chick. It’s fuckin’ funny, man.”
“Shut up. And don’t even think about starting that rumor.”
“Are you kidding?” Cam said, bending to pop the top on an equipment vault. “The way that cougar licks her chops when you’re around? She’d eat Brooke as an appetizer on her way to you. I may be young, but I’m not stupid. I saw that triangle when Brooke and Jillian stepped in the door and both of them looked at you.”
Cam pulled out a harness, tossed it aside, searched through, and grabbed another. Keaton knew this gear blindfolded. He pushed his hand into the dredges of the container, felt around, and pulled their smallest harness from the bottom.
Cam stood back, his face slack with awe. “How the fuck do you do that?”
“Practice. Years and years of practice.” He looked up at Cam. “Can other people see it?”
“What? That the cougar has a hard-on for you? Or that Brooke is head ov
er heels?”
Head over heels? Keaton darted a look over his shoulder. Russ was talking a blue streak, but Brooke didn’t look like she was paying attention. She had a dreamy smile on her face, and her gaze was fixed on Keaton. The look ignited a burst of heat at the center of his body. One that filled his heart.
God, he hoped Cam was right. It would make getting Brooke to work with him on figuring out how to narrow their damn three-thousand-mile gap.
“Never mind,” Keaton told Cam. He stood and closed the gap between them. “Just make sure you keep your mouth shut. Jillian will fire Brooke if she thinks there’s something going on between us, and Brooke needs this job for reasons I can’t explain right now.”
“Sure, man. Okay. I get it.”
“Not a word.”
“Less than a word,” Cam said, serious. “I understand confidentiality.”
Keaton’s vision cleared, and he saw the steadfast, confident, former marine standing in front of him instead of his happy-go-lucky fellow Renegade.
“I’ve got your back, dude,” Cam said. “And I like Brooke.”
“I know you do.” Keaton exhaled. “I’m sorry. This situation sucks.”
Cam brought up his smile. “Brooke seems like the kind of chick who would dig this stunt.”
Keaton laughed. “She is.”
“Then let’s have some fun.”
When they returned with the harness, Russ was still explaining the stunt’s short clip, walking her through the steps. By the time they returned to center stage, Russ moved off to talk with the cameramen, Cam grabbed cables, and Keaton fitted Brooke’s harness.
“This is really a lot like zip-lining,” he told her, fastening the straps along her ribs, lowering his voice to murmur, “Damn you smell good.”
“I’ve never been zip-lining. And so do you.”
“I do not,” he laughed. “I’m sweaty and disgusting.”
“I like you sweaty.”
Her hungry whisper shivered down Keaton’s spine.
He met her eyes, their blue hue bright and sparkling with mischief and desire. “I like you making me sweaty.”
He finished with the last buckle and asked, “You’ve really never been zip-lining?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, well, I kind of under-exaggerated anyway. It’s really like zip-lining on drugs. If this feels overwhelming at any time, you just tell me and we’ll stop.”
He crouched to pull another strap between her legs and fasten it behind her. She turned her head and gave him that sexy smile. “I’m excited.”
Grinning, he checked the harness over and over. Every clip, every buckle, every tie.
Cam came up behind her and hooked cables to the D-rings on the back of the harness. “I think someone’s got that spark of adrenaline in her eyes.”
She laughed. “I don’t know about that.” She ran her hands over the harness. “It’s fun to watch, and I’m excited to try it, but…I’ll leave the everyday life-defying acts to you guys.”
“Have fun,” Cam said before he moved to Russ’s side off stage.
“Hey, where’s your phone?” Keaton asked her.
“Oh, right.” She pulled it from her back pocket. “Probably shouldn’t have this on me.”
“It would be cool to have one of the crew video it so you can show it to Justin.”
“Oh my God.” Her eyes lit up, followed by a gorgeous smile. “Great idea.”
“God I want to kiss you so bad right now,” he murmured.
Her gaze went soft, and her eyes lowered to his mouth. “I wish.”
“Where’s Jillian?” he asked, taking Brooke’s phone.
“Next door, filming.”
He nodded, then called to a stagehand. “Mack.” He offered Brooke’s phone. “Can you get a couple of good clips of this run-through for Brooke’s nephew?”
“Sure.”
Everyone moved back into position, and Keaton took Brooke’s hand as she climbed the stairs to the catwalk. Since they weren’t filming today, there was no director around to tell them what to do, so Keaton walked her to the end of the platform and up the steps at the end that led to nowhere and dropped off into nothing.
“Whoa,” she said with a tight laugh as she reached the end. “Why does this look so much higher from up here?”
“Always does.” He pointed at the blue mat covering the floor below. “If you fall, it’s like a pillow.”
“If you say so.”
“I’m going to race down this ramp, jump these stairs, grab you, and launch myself across the opening and to the other side.” He pointed to the other half of the ramp, which had been displaced six feet higher. The cables are going to help me make that leap. The finesse comes in on the landing. I need to land on the lip of that top step to start the next fight scene. Which is why practicing with the right weight is important for both the crew and me. Then we’ll all know exactly what we need to do to make the landing right with the fewest takes. When the stuntwoman gets here tomorrow, we can film and move on.”
“Okay, got it.”
“I’m going to be coming at you hard and fast. I might knock the wind out of you.”
She laughed softly, and her eyes heated. “I know the feeling, and I could never get enough of it.”
A buzz kicked up in his belly. “Man, I like the sound of that. So, are you okay? Are you ready?”
“I’m always ready for you.”
He laughed, joy sizzling through his veins. “Baby, you’ve got me juiced.”
“Then let’s do this.”
He positioned her looking out at the warehouse and curled her fingers around the thin railing. “Don’t hold tight, okay? You’ve got to let go when I grab you.”
She nodded.
Keaton jogged back to his starting point He would never have believed having Brooke on the other end of a stunt with him could have brought such a thrill. But he was seriously stoked.
“We’re ready,” Russ called.
“Ready here,” repeated the cameraman who’d be taking the test film.
“Here we go,” Cam called.
Keaton shifted on his feet, scraped his running shoes against the metal until they gripped, and dropped into a ready crouch with his gaze on Brooke. And he definitely had a little extra fire burning at the center of his chest.
“Ready…” Cam said. “And… Go.”
Keaton dug in and pushed into a sprint. He used his breath to take him the distance strong and fast. As he approached Brooke, he noticed everything in split seconds even though it was all happening at once—the whites of her eyes as they widened, the way her body tensed just before impact, the way her head ducked and her eyes scrunched closed as he grabbed her.
Her squeal vibrated in the air as he locked her body against his with one arm and launched from the top step with complete and utter faith in the men handling the ropes. And just as his foot left the rail, his harness pulled, his body lifted, and the cables carried him upward.
But Keaton immediately knew the guys handling the cables had used too much strength, and he and Brooke overshot the platform.
“Dammit,” he muttered as they swung back toward the main stage. But as they dangled like a pendulum on their way to the ground, he added, “Oh, well, that just means we get to do it again. And again, and again, and again until we get it right.” He tightened the arm at her waist, pulling her ass into his groin where heat and sensation tingled through his cock. “I’m all about getting it just right.”
She sighed a little moan and slid her hand over his arm. Turning her head a little, she asked, “Are you going to get a break? I really want a secret little rendezvous with you right now.”
Her eyes were wide and excited, her cheeks flushed, and her heartbeat pounded quick and hard against her ribs beneath his arm. The only thing that distinguished between fear and thrill was the sparkling smile cutting across her face.
“Uh-oh…” he teased, smiling at her. “Do I have a little adrenaline junkie on m
y hands?”
“I don’t know about an adrenaline junkie, but you might have a nympho. Because, wow, that is a serious turn-on.”
That struck a funny bone, and Keaton threw his head back and laughed. Which made Brooke laugh. They were just setting their feet on the ground and catching their breath when Keaton said, “Can you get away tonight? If we go out of town, we could find a place for dinner—”
“What in the hell is going on?”
Brooke’s whole body went rigid at the sound of Jillian’s harsh voice, and she whispered a tight, “Fuck.”
The sound of her voice saturated in dread lifted the hair on the back of Keaton’s neck. Cameron was already approaching Jillian with his all-American country-boy charm to explain the delay with the stuntwoman as Russ approached Keaton and Brooke.
“Let us take the heat,” Keaton told Brooke, his voice low. Russ unhooked the cable at his back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t act like you did.”
He started to step past her, but Brooke grabbed his arm. Tight. She didn’t look up. “Please don’t do anything to upset—”
“Nobody commandeers my assistant without asking.” Jillian was slamming Cameron with condescension and attitude. Keaton started toward her. “Brooke,” Jillian scolded, “what do you have to say—”
“Jillian.” Keaton’s tone cut her off and drew her gaze. Her anger turned sullen. “We didn’t exactly give her a choice. And we did it to keep this film on schedule for you. Having this stunt ready to go when the stuntwoman comes will help get the film back on track.”
Brooke came into his peripheral vision, and Keaton purposely kept his gaze riveted to Jillian.
