Loving the Chase (Heart of the Storm #1)

by Sharla Lovelace

  “Hey,” she said, holding his gaze with a neutral smile. She patted him on the chest as if he were Eli or Simon or any other guy that just happened to stand in her path. “Excuse me.”

  Zach backed up like she’d hit him with electric shock, and she cruised past him like touching him meant absolutely nothing. As if her hand didn’t still feel the soft fabric of his shirt and the heat from underneath.

  Shit, she had to stop. She had to stop thinking like that. Reacting like that. She’d worked on a set before, and she knew what kind of physical boundary-breaking went with that. She was all up in people’s personal space, positioning, setting camera angles. Jesus—wiring the body up for sound, under their clothing.

  That thought set both hands to trembling, and by the time they made it to the kitchen, she was wishing there’d be rum in those lemon bars.

  There were several trays of finger foods. Brownies, crackers, chips, two different dips, and the aforementioned lemon bars. No one would ever starve at Louella Chase’s house.

  Maddi grabbed the chip bowl and the picante dip, suddenly feeling as if she could take it all down on her own. Wouldn’t be a problem.

  “Hang tight, there,” Miss Lou said as Maddi turned back the way she’d come in. She grabbed both bowls from Maddi’s hands.

  “What?” Maddi said, confused. “I thought we were bringing everything out there.”

  “We are, my girl, but you’re shaking like it’s the second coming,” Miss Lou said. “I don’t care to see it all on the floor.”

  Maddi clasped her hands together as she felt everything from the neck up erupt in flames. “I’m fine.”

  Miss Lou eyed her. “I may have been a little presumptuous on the closure thing, honey,” she said, putting the bowls down and selecting a lemon bar from the tray. She broke it in half. “Neither one of you appear to be over anything.”

  “What?” Maddi said again, but any further protests were silenced by half a lemon bar shoved into her mouth.

  “For strength,” Miss Lou said, popping the other half in her own mouth. “Grab something not breakable and let’s go.”

  Chapter Nine

  I don’t agree.”

  “Why not, Eli?” said Simon, letting his hand drop to the table.

  The disagreements had hit somewhat of a rotating wheel. Everything that had been covered so far—from the timing to the tone to the number of episodes, and the suggestion of a script—had all been shot down by Elijah on high. Now he was griping about the location, and everyone’s nerves were wearing thin.

  “It’s Mom’s house we’re talking about, here,” Eli said.

  “Exactly,” Miss Lou said, raising her hand. “My house. My contribution to this thing. You have no bearing on that topic, so let that go.”

  Eli’s jaw twitched at the reprimand, but he had no leverage and he knew it. “You want all this chaos in your life? Right under your roof?”

  “I’d kill for a little chaos, my boy,” she said. “I get bored stiff around here by myself.”

  “Okay!” Nicole interjected, sitting up with a look of great hope that they could all get off the ride and make some headway. “So the location is agreed upon. Are we back to the number of episodes?” She glanced sideways at Eli. “A pilot and three episodes is pretty standard fare for a start-up. We see if the network wants to continue after that.”

  “What if we don’t want to continue—before that?” Eli asked. “What if we hate it after the pilot? What if we hate it before the pilot? What if we punch the cameraman?”

  She leaned forward. “You do realize you’re getting money for this, right?”

  Eli leaned forward to match her. “I get money now.”

  “Not for storm chasing, you don’t,” Zach said. “Shit, Eli, quit being an ass.”

  “I don’t want to see us stuck in something we can’t get out of,” Eli yelled, slamming his hand down hard.

  “It’s four episodes,” Simon said. “That’s hardly a lifetime commitment.”

  Eli blew out a breath and sat back with his eyes closed. “What about a contingency that we reserve the right to pull the plug at any time if we want to.”

  “Jesus,” Zach muttered, along with similar under-the-breath expletives from Simon and even Quinn. Maddi was quiet, sitting back in her chair, staring at a packet of paper in front of her like she wanted to be anywhere else.

  Nicole tapped her pen on the table and met Eli’s eyes, challenge for challenge, the silence thick as mud between them.

  “Three weeks’ notice—after you’ve seen the pilot,” she added quickly.

  “That’s not—” Eli began.

  “Eli, that’s not up for negotiation,” Nicole said bluntly. “Production costs a lot of money, and the network will not sign on to do all this work without something in the bag.”

  He let out a long uneasy breath and sat back against the chair.

  “Three weeks’ notice,” Nicole repeated, “and the we does not mean you. It means that the entirety of who signs this contract has a consensus. You all have to sign to end it.”

  All eyes swung back to Eli, whose jaw muscles were working violently under eyes that could wither a lesser person.

  “Eli,” Maddi said, her voice new and unexpected to the conversation. “Give it a chance. Four shows are standard for a reason. It gives everyone a chance to work out the bugs and find their footing.”

  She laid her hand on his arm, and Zach’s stomach contracted as he flashed back on that hand resting against his chest. He closed his eyes and clamped his teeth together so hard he thought they might break. He heard the breathy quality of her chuckle and had to open his eyes again to see the face that went with it.

  “This is my first show, Eli,” she said with a nervous and endearing grin. “I’m gonna need all four shots at it.”

  Oh, she was good. That was good.

  As expected, the hard veneer softened a bit. The ready-for-battle eyes looked away, and Eli sighed as he ran a hand over his face.

  “No script,” he said, resignation pulling down his tone. “No script, or no deal.”

  “There are times in a reality show where the actors—” Nicole began.

  “We aren’t actors,” Eli interrupted.

  “—the people on-screen get interviewed, asked questions and such,” she amended quickly. “And the stuff in here would play better with—”

  “No,” he said.

  “Eli’s right,” Zach said, bringing his brother’s hard gaze his direction. “We don’t work like that. But you can script your side, plan your questions, and whatever we say, we say. I mean, I assume there has to be some introduction in the beginning. Some talky-talk stuff so the viewers get to know us, but let them know us. And when we’re out in the field, even if we’re on camera, we’re working. You follow us and get what you want and edit out what you don’t. We don’t have time out there to worry about words.”

  Eli’s eyes narrowed and he nodded. Nicole chewed her bottom lip and pondered that, or pretended to. After a few long seconds, she put her pen down.

  “I can work with that,” she said. “Is that everything?”

  “I think so,” Zach said.

  Eli nodded again, not looking totally on board, but not looking ready to chew through the table anymore, either.

  “Okay,” Nicole said in a rush of relief. She flipped the pages to the back. “Then all I need is some ink, guys. There’s a place for each of you to sign, and I’ll get Hannah’s signature later this week.”

  The paper moved around the table from Eli to Simon, to Zach, to Quinn, and to Lou. When it passed Gran on the way back to Nicole, she grabbed it and peered through her glasses.

  “Where’s mine?”

  “You aren’t in the contract, Mrs. Chase,” Nicole said, glancing at everyone else in turn.

  “What do you mean,
I’m not in it?” she said, laughing as though that was ridiculous. “Of course I’m in it. I pay for all of this.”

  “Actually, everything that is done for the show is funded by the network,” Nicole said. “What they do off-screen—say, a storm chase that pops up and it’s not within our filming schedule or we aren’t ready—that’s not covered, but anything for our cameras is.”

  Gran’s eyebrows raised slowly. “Hmm,” she said. Zach caught a sideways look from his mother. “So I have no say in this?” she asked, wheeling back from the table.

  “In your family? Sure!” Nicole said, trying to smooth old and fragile feathers. “But in this show, no, I’m afraid not.”

  “Then I can go,” she said. “I certainly have better things to do than take up token space.” She pushed back and headed for the door. “Simon?”

  Simon cleared his throat and smiled. “Am I done here?” he asked softly. “I’ve been beckoned.”

  “We’re good, Simon,” Maddi said with a wink. “We’ll get you the schedule so you can plan around work, but we’ll be starting in here tomorrow with sound cues and setting up the static cams.”

  “I’ll come by early,” he said, and his hand on Quinn’s shoulder wasn’t lost on Zach. “Hey, Little Bit,” he said, which he’d affectionately called her since the beginning of time. “Can you get a ride home?”

  “No problem,” she said, smiling vibrantly up at him.

  He looked physically whipped as he walked away from her. Zach knew the feeling. Sharing space—this space—with Maddi was beating the crap out of him. She didn’t belong there. Or actually, she kind of did, and that was worming under his skin like a parasite. Her being there, sitting at the table, laughing with his family, brought back memories of when that was normal. Of when he had a heart and felt it beating on a daily basis. She needed to go. Go wherever TV crews go to do whatever they do, so he could breathe.

  “So the crew will be here at eight in the morning to start wiring for video,” Nicole said, looking immensely pleased with herself. “That okay, Mrs. Chase?”

  “Call me Lou, please, Mrs. Chase just left,” she answered. “And it’ll all be fine.”

  Nicole suppressed a laugh. “Gotcha.”

  “I’ll have bacon and eggs and biscuits ready to go,” Lou said.

  “Oh, wow,” Nicole said as she got up. “I’m sad I’m missing that.”

  “You should be,” Quinn said, palming her flat abs like there was a spare tire hiding in there. “Miss Lou’s breakfast is to die for.”

  “You won’t be back in the morning?” Lou asked.

  Nicole shook her head and patted Maddi’s back. “No, ma’am, I’m headed back to Dallas and I leave you in Maddi’s capable hands.” She smiled at everyone, lingering a little longer on Eli, who Zach wasn’t entirely sure noticed. He was still brooding. “I have rooms booked at the Resort Inn just outside of town for everyone. Three weeks to start, and we’ll see where we’re at, but that’s close enough to be on call if something pops up unexpectedly.”

  “Three weeks in a motel!” his mom exclaimed. “I can’t imagine!”

  Maddi shrugged. “It’ll be fine. I’ll grab a ride home with one of the crew on the weekends.” She gave Nicole a questioning look. “Surely someone will have to head home for something, right?”

  “I’m sure,” Nicole said.

  “I’ll catch a ride and get my car,” Maddi said, looking like she wished she could go do that right now.

  “Well, a motel is ridiculous, there’s plenty of room here,” his mom said. Zach felt his skin start to buzz. “I can’t put up all of them, I guess, but I can certainly keep you here, my girl.”

  Maddi’s mouth opened, and her eyes flew to Zach’s. Panic. Backpedaling. She didn’t want to be there any more than he wanted her to be. Come on, Maddi, cough up a good reason. Chronic hives. Dog allergies. Gas problems.

  “There’s no reason to go to all that trouble, Miss Lou,” she said instead. “You’re going to have all this—”

  “Chaos, yes, I know,” Lou said. “Elijah already pointed that out.” She patted his cheek as he shook his head, stood, and picked up empty trays. He gave Zach a sideways look that held a million opinions. Many of them involving Maddi. “I promise, having you around the house again will do nothing to worsen that. I would absolutely love it.”

  Maddi looked green. “Um—”

  “You can stay in Hannah’s old room—it has its own bathroom.” Lou clapped her hands and picked up the empty chip bowl on the way to the kitchen. “Oh, I’m so excited.”

  Zach forced a smile as Nicole made the rounds shaking hands, promising all sorts of wonderful things. Everyone talked at once, family hugged, and conversations broke off in ten different directions as people left. He found himself alone in the room, his ears ringing with the quiet after all the noise, and he turned back to the window. To the stick in the yard—his focal point. Oh, when things were just that simple.

  “Was this about her from the beginning?”

  Zach turned to see Eli leaning illegally against the back of the couch, his arms crossed over his chest. Studying Zach with hard eyes.

  “No,” he said. “I didn’t know she was involved till the meeting in Dallas the other day. Hell, I didn’t even know she was still in the state, did you?”

  Eli shook his head. “Why didn’t you mention it at dinner that night?”

  “Because it wasn’t about her,” Zach responded, facing Eli straight on. “Even then, she was just sitting in on a meeting for her boss. Nicole Brian was supposed to be doing this.”

  “And now she’s not,” Eli said. “You gonna be able to handle it?”

  Zach frowned and backed up a step. “Of course.” He let a smirk pull at the corner of his lips. “That’s not concern for me that I see there, is it, big brother?”

  Eli looked away. “Just want to be sure your head’s in the game,” he said. “You know we can’t afford distractions out there.”

  Zach sighed and nodded, his attempt at levity lost as usual on Eli. “I’ll be fine. This is business.”

  Eli raised one eyebrow, bringing his scar with it. “Yeah.”

  Zach watched him turn and walk out into the kitchen, where noises of dishes clanking and the hum of conversation could be heard. Quinn and his mom were in there, probably buzzing over all that was to come. Eli was likely grumbling and telling them it was a colossal mistake.

  He could still feel her hand against his chest. Yeah, this was all business.

  Maddi sat down heavily on the porch as Nicole’s car, and the two vans of equipment and crew members pulled away. She’d been left behind with no car, no way of escape, with only her purse and the old beat-up suitcase to her name.

  Okay, maybe that was a bit melodramatic—maybe. Obviously, there were worse places to be abandoned, places without phenomenal food and a killer backyard respite. And the porch was a nice place to be dumped. Massive and wrapping around the front yard, encompassing all the outer buildings as well—the garage, the barn, an ancient pickup truck she was pretty sure once belonged to Zach’s dad. It wasn’t bad. It wouldn’t be bad.

  Except that it would. Being around his family—Miss Lou acting like her mom again, and hanging with Eli and Simon and Hannah for the next couple of weeks—was terrifying. It was so normal, it broke her out in a repeated sweat just thinking about it.

  She wanted to hitchhike back to Dallas and her little house with the pitiful rose bush and grass with all the dead spots. Here at this house, with its rambling coziness and big trees and memories in every friggin’ corner, Maddi felt her nerves all standing up to dance. Not all the memories were good. With what she was there to do, and record, and report on, and talk about, and probably fucking witness again—that day kept coming back to her.

  Maddi had wished for Hannah to stay back and get ready with her, but of course she had to go,
too. Everyone always had to go. The weather was getting nastier by the minute, and she tried not to worry, but it was so bad out there. She only hoped it would lighten up a little before everyone had to make the trek into Dallas to the courthouse. She didn’t want any accidents. God, she could totally punch Eli in the gut for taking Zach on this one.

  The hour had come and gone. Her mother called twice. Maddi knew her dad would get worked up and angry about any delays, or weather, or anything, so she kept telling her mother that all was on schedule.

  She’d gone to the full-length closet mirror eight times since she put the dress on, redid her hair twice, and touched up her face more times than she could count. Yes, it was still early, but he was supposed to be back. She always got antsy when he was out on a run, but this time—this time was different.

  She resisted calling his cell because he always turned it off when he was out there. Couldn’t afford the distraction. But damn it, it would be nice if he’d let her know what was going on.

  She went to the glass doors of their second-floor balcony and hugged her arms around herself, watching the rain blow so thick and sideways, she could barely see into the street below. The wind was howling, blowing gusts of wetness against the glass with a vengeance. Nice day for a wedding, huh? She felt a sweat break out on her back, and walked away, fanning herself. It was just nerves.

  Just nerves. Maddi moved the suitcase for the third time, setting it next to the new bookshelves that Zach had made for her. She ran a hand along the edges, feeling the comfort of the perfectly smooth wood grain. They were beautiful and solid and massive. Everything he made was gorgeous. She smiled to herself as she thought about the beautiful babies he would make as well.

  “If you get your ass home,” she said aloud to a photo of the two of them that adorned one of the shelves. “I swear, if you miss our wedding, you will never get sex again.”