Spring Into Love

by Chantel Rhondeau

  I put the picture back down and pulled open the small drawer. Three envelopes sat on top of other papers, and I pulled them out by the edges. I doubted that there would be any prints on them from the person who sent them, but still, I would check.

  I set them on the top of the nightstand and looked around for something to fold them into. I stared at the dresser for a minute and then walked over to it. In the second drawer, I found what I wanted—a pile of T-shirts. I pulled one out, walked back over to the bed, and unfolded it. I placed the envelopes into the center and wrapped them up. I would have one of my crime guys look at them for me.

  I turned to close the drawer of the nightstand, but paused when I saw a newspaper clipping poking out, the word evil barely visible on the edge. My fingers shook slightly as I lifted the papers covering it and found several newspaper clippings of the incident at the airport. He had saved them. On one of them, he had underlined my name, twice, in red.

  I went to set them back down and saw a photograph under the clippings. It was a shot of me at the press conference. Should I be worried about this?

  Roseanne walked in and interrupted my thoughts. “Yeah, he has quite a stash of those. He was kind of obsessed with finding you after that happened.”

  I turned to her while I eased the drawer closed. “You know stalking is a crime.”

  “Not if you want to be stalked,” she said quietly. I didn’t bother to reply, because even though I hadn’t wanted to be in contact with him before, I wasn’t fighting it now.

  “Did you find what you needed?” she asked when she realized I wasn’t going to reply to her last comment.

  I lifted the shirt. “Yep. I’ll get someone to take this back to my lab and check it out.”

  “Okay, I think one of your guys is down near the edge of our tent town. Let’s go find them, and then I’ll take you over to the set.”

  We found one of my patrol officers doing some traffic control near the edge of what they called “tent town.” They weren’t really tents, but it did look like a camp with all of the trailers parked here. I asked the officer to take it back and have one of the crime lab guys process it and let me know what they got. He slipped it into a plastic evidence bag, shirt and all, and sealed it before tossing it into the front seat.

  Roseanne and I climbed back into my truck and drove over to the filming location. I found a spot where I could watch the area and still see him. Troy was wandering around and talking on his phone. He waved when he saw me, and I returned it before turning back to the action in front of the cameras.

  I was impressed with what I saw. Not just Ryan and his acting, but the actress and the way the people behind the scenes moved and made things happen. The director sat inside a black draped tent. There were four different screens in front of him, each one showed a different view of the scene.

  I watched with more interest than was warranted as Ryan moved toward Sheila, his co-star. I hadn’t realized that Ryan was portraying a police officer in this film. Sheila and Ryan were in a very intense and romantic part of the scene when Ryan paused. The director in front of me grunted. He told the actors to start over.

  When Ryan himself yelled cut, the director threw his hands up in the air. “What’s his problem?”

  “Where is Jacquelyn?” Ryan called out loudly from the set. I must have made a noise, because the director turned to look at me.

  “Well, go see what the hell he wants so that we can get this finished,” he all but barked at me. I spun around and moved out of the tent.

  Ryan caught my eye the moment I appeared, and I was drawn by the vision he made as he moved toward me. The uniform he wore was a standard police dress uniform. The gear he wore around his waist emphasized his strength and commanded power. I had always been a sucker for a man in uniform, but never had a man affected me so deeply.

  I squeaked out a few words and asked what the problem was. Was there a threat on the set I hadn’t seen? Did something happen that I hadn’t picked up on?

  He gripped my face gently and planted a strong passionate kiss on me. My head spun, and my heart raced as our mouths meshed and our tongues dueled. Not once did I think about the thirty or so people who stood around us staring.

  I was so moved by the kiss that I could only nod my head when he mumbled to me, “Sorry, but I needed to get into the mood, excuse me for what I’m about to do.”

  When the director’s words reached my ears, I cringed. Ryan gave me one more small, gentle peck before he turned and strutted back to his place on set. My eyes trailed down the back of his body to his strong shoulders, his thin waist with the heavy equipment wrapped around it, and then they took in his firm buttocks. Oh, I was so far gone.

  I saw Sheila grin and make a comment to Ryan and just like that the filming started again. This time, I watched the kiss from where he left me. My legs still shook and I feared if I tried to move, I would fall flat on my face.

  As Sheila and Ryan gave in to the onscreen passion of the first kiss, I wondered if we really looked like that. My mind recalled a photo we had seen on TV only the night before, and I realized that we looked even better than they did.

  With that single take, the director was happy with the outcome. I was still close enough to his tent that I heard him say something about me being around for all future romance scenes to keep Ryan in the mood. I felt the heat creep into my face as I scanned the area and saw others glancing at me with knowing looks.

  I moved away from the tent and toward the food table. I needed a drink, but water would have to do for now.

  When Ryan joined me, we talked about the film. I was happily surprised that I knew exactly what they were filming.The author was a detective in another township not too far away, and we had worked on several cases together. We’d even gone out for dinner a few times to unwind and discuss our jobs.Ryan pulled my hand away from my phone before I could send a message and drew me close to him. My knees began to shake at his close proximity. I wasn’t sure how much more of his passionate kissing I could handle before I caved completely and lost myself in him.

  I tried to bring our conversation back to the movie. “Why are you filming this in the day when that scene is at night?”

  Filters, yeah the answer was so simple, and I had absolutely no clue what he was talking about. His blue eyes glittered down at me and I fought to hold on to reality. This was a job.

  I scanned the area. Most people were doing their own thing; while some glanced at us, there was one person who caught my attention. Smoldering hate burst from her eyes toward me. I’d show her that things were over between them. I pulled away from her evil glare and brought my lips to Ryan’s. Once our lips touched, nothing else mattered.

  How easily I could get lost in the feelings he evoked in me. I had to find a way to get my bearings back. Talking about his work, or thinking about the real reason I was there, was the best way. He must have thought the same thing because we turned the conversation back to the filming.

  When he went back to work, I noticed Kayla was nowhere around, and I was glad she disappeared. I wasn’t ready for a repeat performance with her just yet, especially in front of Ryan.

  Beth happened to wander my way and stood next to me. I did a double take and braced for the cutting words that I expected to come out of her mouth.

  She stood with her arms casually crossed over her chest, her line of sight on the scene. “I’m impressed. I have never seen anyone put Kayla in her place before.”

  I peeked at her from the corner of my eye, but didn’t respond.

  “I think you’re good for Ryan, and whether you want to admit it or not, you’re not just here for the job. It is quite obvious that you are here for the man, too.”

  I turned to look at her straight on. She glanced at me with her eyebrow up. “Am I correct in my assumption?”

  I exhaled. “I don’t know.” We both turned back to the scene in front of us and stood quietly for a few moments. I watched Ryan as he joked with Sheila and winked at
me when he saw me observing him.

  “Well, I think you’ll figure it out soon enough. In the meantime, what is it they say in your line of work?” I peered at her, unsure where she was going with this. “I’ve got your back.” She winked and turned away. I watched her retreat and chuckled quietly to myself. I guess that was good, right?

  Chapter 19

  Ryan

  The scene with Erik and Devon went smoothly, so we moved on to another scene where Corey, the role Sheila plays, returns from the grave much to my character’s surprise.

  Again, before the intense kiss in the scene began, I sought out Jackie and tugged her into the director’s tent. The director smirked, but turned around to give us a moment as I planted a hungry kiss on her. My entire body hummed with the current we created as I walked back to Sheila, who tried not to grin.

  When we were done, I searched the area for Jackie. She was nowhere to be found. Troy and Drew escorted me back to the trailer so that I could change out of the costume I was in. How did real cops wear that stuff all day, every day? When I had peeled the vest off my body, I stretched like a cat, thankful to have it off and not confining my movements any longer.

  I asked where Jackie was and was told she had gone back to the house to do some work. I skipped my shower there and climbed into the limo to get home. Even though I was focused on the scenes we were filming, Jackie’s face found its way into my mind on several occasions. I wanted to feel her in my arms again, and not just to get me in the mood for a scene.

  I locked my jaw, concerned by the way I needed her to help set the mood. I had always been able to get in the right frame of mind in the past; so why was it so different now?

  I walked into the house when we got home and wandered around. Jackie wasn’t in the kitchen or living room area. I looked out the back and found her sitting on the patio, papers in her lap, her legs stretched out on another chair she had pulled closer. She was on the phone, and the wind tossed her hair gently around. A smile lit up her face and warmed the inside of my gut as she laughed.

  “She’s a beautiful woman,” Troy said quietly as he stood beside me.

  That she was. She leaned her head back and laughed harder. Who was she talking to that made her so happy? Did she make up with her boyfriend? Or was it a friend?

  A feeling very close to jealously replaced the warm feeling in my gut, and I turned and strode away.

  “Where you going?” Troy questioned as I moved to leave the room.

  “I’m going to go take a shower. Can you make sure dinner is ready soon?” My voice was clipped, and I didn’t wait for an answer before I strode purposefully out of the room.

  I climbed the stairs to the third floor and stopped on the balcony. I could see Jackie still sitting out on the patio talking on the phone, but now she was going through the papers in her lap and making notes. What was she working on? I spied on her for a short time and then went to clean up.

  Before I came back down, I sat on the bed and pulled out a notepad. Roseanne had already given Jackie her list, and I was sure that Troy probably had, too. I needed to write mine up. I sighed. How many years was I supposed to go back? Kayla and I had been together for a while, so other than a few social events, there hadn’t been many other women this last year. But before that, damn, there were a lot of woman. Did I list the ones I had just dated, or the ones I had been sexually involved with? The list was almost the same though.

  I stared writing down the names, thinking of the women I had been involved with over the last three years. I didn’t have to go back further than that, did I? I ended up with a list of nine women. Obviously, I had been playing the part of a true Hollywood playboy. That thought embarrassed the hell out of me, and I ripped the paper off the pad, folded it, and slipped it in the back pocket of my jeans.

  I found everyone sitting on the patio. The sun was setting low on the horizon, and the colors were muted in the sky because of the thick clouds that were rolling in. We would get some rain tonight.

  Suzette, my chef, placed our dinner on the table as Roseanne, Drew, Troy, and Jackie gathered around to grab a seat.

  Baked chicken over pasta with a light sauce and salad were on the menu tonight, and the scent of the food made my stomach grumble as I moved closer to the table. I took the empty seat next to Jackie, she glanced up for a brief moment. Something dark rolled through her eyes that I couldn’t read, but then she turned her attention back to putting food on her plate.

  I examined her casually from the corner of my eye as she ate with enthusiasm and joined in on the friendly conversation at the table about the day’s events. I was ecstatic about the way she made herself so comfortable here and got along with everyone. She kept her attention on them, but I knew she was very aware of me.

  Our legs brushed under the table once, her fork stopped momentarily halfway to her mouth. Did she feel the same warmth that traveled up my thigh from where our legs had connected? I saw her lick her lips and swallow before she put the food into her mouth. Ah, to be that fork.

  Jackie’s eyes were everywhere but on me, and I wondered why. Dinner was a nice affair, everyone was relaxed and sharing funny stories about things that happened on the set that day. Roseanne spent most of the time talking because she has the ability to be just about everywhere, unlike Troy who stays by my side almost relentlessly and Jackie who remained very focused on the investigation throughout the day.

  I noticed that the conversation stayed off of Beth and Kayla, and I wondered how I could go about asking what really happened.

  “So, Jackie, what did you think of my agent?” She stopped eating and glanced pointedly at Roseanne. She finished chewing her food slowly and lifted her napkin to dab her lips. I figured it was more of a maneuver to search for the right words than proper etiquette.

  “Beth?” she asked quietly, as if she didn’t know who I was talking about.

  I leaned back in my seat, watching her struggle slightly with how to handle this. She knew exactly where I was trying to take this conversation.

  “Beth is very nice,” she said and pushed some pasta around her plate with the fork. She peeked up at Roseanne and Troy. I wasn’t the only one surprised by her choice of words. Troy raised his eyebrows, too.

  “Nice, huh?” I paused for a moment. “You are about the only person I know who has ever called her nice.” I leaned on the table and pushed my plate back so that I could rest my elbows on the glass. “So what did you ladies have to talk about?”

  She shrugged and put some food into her mouth, placing more attention to the last few pieces of noodle on her plate than on anyone around us. “I don’t know; she just wanted to get to know me, I guess.”

  “Really, now?” I said it slowly and cocked my head to the side to get a better look at her face. Her cheeks were pink and I fought back a grin.

  She wiped her mouth with her napkin, tossed it onto the plate, and sat back making direct eye contact with me for the first time since we started dinner. “No, actually she wanted to know if you were any good in bed.”

  Roseanne burst out laughing, but when she saw the threat of violence in my eyes, she quickly put her hand over her mouth to smother any further noise. She did not succeed.

  Jackie was staring hard at me when I met her eyes. She raised an eyebrow waiting for my response. “You’re not going to tell me the truth are you?”

  She shook her head while she exhaled and shrugged. “There is nothing to tell, Ryan. She asked me a few questions, and we were just finishing up when—” she caught herself and peeked over at Roseanne while biting her lip.

  “When what? When Kayla showed up?” I encouraged her to keep going. I was dying to hear what happened. Someone on the set told me Kayla had been so pissed she wasn’t watching where she was going and walked around a corner and right into a guy carrying a bunch of electrical equipment, knocking him over. She screamed at him, making a huge scene, and then stomped away.

  “You are making this a bigger deal than it has to be. Why
is that?” I saw her lock her jaw and grind her teeth, but I pressed on. “Rumors are flying all over the set. If it’s no big deal, then tell me what you said so that I know what the truth is.”

  She tipped her head back to look up at the darkening sky and closed her eyes. My eyes traveled down her neck, and I envisioned kissing every centimeter of her skin there. I inhaled quickly.

  “Forget it.” I pushed the chair back from the table and tossed my napkin down. “If you don’t want to tell me, fine.” I shrugged roughly. “Fine.” I said again and stared into her eyes, the blue of her irises turning almost a steel-gray as anger filled them. I knew the feeling; I wasn’t too happy that she wouldn’t tell me. I turned to leave and remembered the list I made.

  I spun back to her again, absently noting that everyone, except Jackie, was staring at me as if I had two heads. I pulled the paper from my pocket and dropped it in her lap. “The list you wanted.”

  To her credit, she never looked away from my intense scrutiny and the note lay on her lap against one of her hands, but she didn’t reach for it. I walked away before anyone had a chance to speak.

  In my study, I pulled out my script from the desk drawer and flipped it open to the scenes for tomorrow. I had to force myself to focus on what I was reading, because my mind kept wandering back to the muscles and tight skin of her neck and what her eyes would reveal when she read my list.

  I poured myself a scotch and kicked my feet up on my desk as I scanned through my lines, reminding myself about how the flower shop scene was supposed to go.

  I read through the scene four times when I felt eyes on me. I looked up and found Jackie standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, her shoulder leaning against the doorjamb. I flushed, remembering the way I threw the list on her lap and stomped away like a child.

  “I know you’re working, and I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to speak with you for a few minutes, if you can spare the time.” She didn’t leave her spot, and I noticed she hugged herself a bit tighter as she spoke. Did I make her nervous? Or was she afraid of another one of my childish outbursts?