Mustang Hollywood: A standalone, small town, enemies-to-lovers romance (Mustang Ranch Book 3)

by Eva Haining

  With a few adjustments and a number of dry runs, this next one is the real thing, and he gives me fair warning.

  “We’re doing the kiss on this run-through. Are you going to be childish about it, or can I expect you to be a professional actress?”

  “Just do it.”

  “I thought you’d be happy I asked. I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea and think I’m going to enjoy this in any way, shape, or form.”

  “I get it. You’ve had your fun. I’m here to work, so can you be professional and just get on with it?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His self-satisfied grin makes me want to slap him right in the kisser. This is going to be a true test of my acting abilities. Can I make it seem at all believable that he and I share any kind of chemistry?

  I doubt it. I’m good, but I’m not that good.

  Anna: Can we talk?

  Jett: Sure, darlin’. I’ve always got time for you.

  Anna: This. Calling me darlin’, flirting with me, and looking at me the way you do… it needs to stop. It’s confusing.

  (Anna turns to leave. Jett grabs her arm, swinging her round to face him)

  Jett: What’s confusing? I’ve been clear about it from the start. All those years ago, you knew how I felt about you.

  Anna: What? You never said anything.

  Jett: What was I supposed to say? You were my best friend’s girl, and he was like a brother to me. You made your choice.

  Anna: So, why say anything now? It’s been ten years since I decided to be with him.

  Jett: You know why.

  (Jett steps closer, forcing her to step back until she finds the barn wall at her back)

  Anna: I can’t.

  Jett: Why not? He’s gone, and denying what we feel for each other won’t bring him back.

  Anna: Because if I let myself fall for you, I’d be betraying his memory. He died fighting for his country. I can’t let him go. I won’t.

  (Jett braces his arms on either side of the wall, their lips an inch apart)

  Jett: You’ve already fallen for me, darlin’. You’re fighting it, but I’m not going anywhere.

  (He grabs her hand, pressing it to his heart)

  Jett: Feel that. I’m here. I’m alive, and my heart beats for you, Anna. Only you. Pushing me away won’t change the fact that I love you. I loved you then, I love you now, and I’m always going to love you. Why won’t you let me?

  Anna: Jett…

  His lips crash down on mine, pinning me to the wall, the smell of his cologne invading my senses. The scruff of his stubble chafes in stark contrast to the softness of his lips. My arms wrap around his waist as his hands fist in my hair, pulling me closer, his mouth firm but tender as he moves in a punishing rhythm. An unwanted swarm of fireflies takes flight in the pit of my stomach, sending me spiraling into a tailspin.

  My natural instinct is to dart out my tongue to taste the man on the other side of such a fervent kiss, but I hold back, knowing it’s not real. After what feels like long minutes, he pulls back, his eyes wild as his gaze flits to my lips. His breath is uneven as I stumble through the remainder of my lines.

  The moment we’re done, Dylan claps his approval, slicing through the disconcerting silence between J.J. and myself.

  “Guys, that was perfect! Just how I imagined it.” I focus my attention on him, avoiding eye contact with J.J. My cheeks are flushed, my heart is racing, and I hate that he was able to get this reaction from me. It wasn’t him, though. It was Jett. His character. Those are two very different people. One is a real-life jackass, and the other is made up! I was just taken off-guard by our first kiss. My first ever acting kiss. It will get easier, and it’s not always going to be like a sucker punch to the gut.

  “The only thing I’d suggest is that Anna should be crying just before they kiss. Jett’s professing his undying love for her. Your emotion was spot on, but a few tears would really hammer home how hard it is for her to hear this from him.” It’s a valid point, but I know what it means. He wants to see us do the scene again. Of course, he does. I need to get used to kissing J.J. over the next few weeks. It’ll become mundane and boring soon enough.

  Without a word of encouragement or discouragement, J.J. goes back to his starting position, ready to go. Clearly, he finds me about as exciting as a mashed potato sandwich.

  We start from the top, and this time, I dig deep and find those tears. Subtle. Just enough to convey Anna’s turmoil. And J.J. feeds on it, bringing a whole other dimension to his character before pulling me into another, heart-stopping kiss. Every bit as fierce as the last, and packing twice the punch, my knees buckle beneath me.

  Chapter Six

  JASPER

  Goddammit, she’s good. For a moment, I lost myself in the scene and that kiss. She’s got a mouth on her—unable to say two words to me without an insult—and yet, everyone else thinks butter wouldn’t melt. But that kiss had my cock twitching, and that’s never happened to me during a scene before, not even when I was working with Cece while we were dating. Kissing on command is really different than kissing someone because you want to. I’ve always been able to compartmentalize. Whatever just happened, I need to make it stop.

  We run the same scene over and over again with Maisie questioning the necessity of including the kiss every time, but as many times as we do it, I can’t seem to force my body’s reaction to simmer. Kissing an actress time and time again with no tongue should be mundane. Boring even. And yet, I find myself getting annoyed by my traitorous junk. By mid-afternoon, I call it a day. Not my finest professional moment, but I need to put some distance between us.

  “Let’s leave this until Monday. I’m going to fly back to LA tomorrow and see what progress is being made on finding a co-star.” Dylan looks puzzled.

  “Are you kidding? You’ve already found her. Maisie is the perfect Anna. And the chemistry between you two would be explosive on the big screen.” Maisie snorts at his statement.

  “Trust me, you do not want us working together for any length of time. We’d kill each other. Right, J.J.?” The derision in her voice is like a red rag to a bull.

  “Right. And don’t forget, you have zero acting experience unless we’re counting the Kingsbury Falls the-a-ter productions.” The moment the words leave my lips, I know how cruel they sound.

  “Fuck you… Mr. Savage. Find someone else to run lines with. I’d rather die an unknown than have to spend another minute up close and personal with you.” She storms off. Dylan is suitably horrified as he stands, mouth agape, witnessing our car-crash interaction with each other.

  He wanders over to where I’m now left alone watching Maisie disappear through the door and out toward the main stables.

  “J.J., have you tapped that already?”

  “What in the hell… no, I’ve not tapped that. She’s too backwater for me. We hate each other with a burning passion. Why in the world would you suggest her for the leading lady?”

  “Because, whatever hatred you two have going on, it’s electrifying to watch.”

  “Never gonna happen, Dyl. Don’t force the point.” The smell of Maisie’s perfume lingers on my clothes, the taste of her lips still imprinted on mine.

  “Okay. You go to LA for a few days, recharge, see some auditions and come back Monday to get moving. I’ll have some more pages for you to work on by then, and if you don’t have a new leading lady by then, tell me you’ll at least entertain the idea of giving Maisie a shot? We could at least see how she does with the cast. It’s about more than just your interactions. She’s a daughter, a widow, opinionated, and headstrong. You need to at least watch her read some scenes with the rest of the cast. If you’re not feeling it after that, then I promise I won’t bring her up again.”

  “Deal. And, it’s only because I know the rest of the cast will get a good laugh watching amateur hour. I’m going to find someone. I have a good feeling about this weekend.”

  “If you say so. I think you’re making a mistake, though. S
he has everything. She’s hot, authentically southern, she’s sassy and stubborn, and she sure knows how to put you in your place. I don’t think you’re going to find a girl in LA who can outshine Maisie.”

  “Well, I’m going to give it a goddamn try. This movie has already taken so much from me, I’m starting to question if I should’ve let it die when I had the chance.”

  “What do you mean?” He’s the writer for God’s sake, he has a right to know who’s paying his wages.

  “I’m funding the movie along with a few investors. I need a perfect Anna to star alongside me if I have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting this to the top of the box-office charts.”

  “Man, I had no idea. Thanks for telling me.”

  “You can’t tell anyone. The last thing I want is for the cast and crew to know my neck is on the line. It’s a pressure I alone can burden. It’s the way it needs to be. Promise me.”

  “Sure. I won’t tell a soul. But, and you’re not going to like this… I really think you should take a few days to consider giving Maisie a try. I think the two of you could be a force to be reckoned with on the big screen.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I say, purely to appease him. By hook or by crook, I’ll find an actress this weekend. I have to. There’s no way on God’s green earth that I’m putting my career at stake for a hillbilly Daisy Duke.

  Taking a leisurely stroll back to my cottage, I can hear Maisie in the stables talking to one of the hands. I think it could be Maddox.

  “I did everything right, and that asshole doesn’t have a kind word in his vocabulary. And kissing him… I’d have more fun Frenching a toilet brush. Doesn’t the man own a razor for God’s sake?” I can only just make out the person she’s talking to. It’s not a ranch hand. It’s A.B.

  “Is there the slightest possibility you’re still hung up on that first day you met? Holding it against him?”

  “Maybe.” Her voice is no more than a whisper. “I’d just like to know the truth. Why he’s here in Kingsbury Falls and what really happened between him and Cecelia Bain. More than anything, I’d just like to know how he became such a colossal dickweed, or if he’s always been that way.”

  “He’s here to make a movie, Mais, and if you want to be a part of that, you need to put aside your dislike for the man. You don’t have to be friends with him, it’s called acting for a reason.”

  “I’ve already blown any chance I had of even a small walk-on part.”

  “I know better than most… life has an amazing way of giving you a second chance.” My generous host might believe in second chances, but I don’t. Maisie made her choice today, and there are no take-backs in my world anymore.

  I leave them to their hushed conversation, uninterested in hearing anything else they have to say. Getting back to LA for a few days is just want I need. To sleep in my own bed, or not, I guess. Cece is too busy fucking her next victim in my bed right now.

  Anger spreads through my veins. I’ve had enough of this crap, and I’m going to get my house back. I worked hard for it, and I’ll be damned if she’s squatting there any longer.

  Stepping into the terminal at LAX, a wave of relief washes over me. It’s short-lived when I think about confronting Cece and being seen by the press around LA, but there’s still a part of me that’s glad to be home. After what happened during rehearsal yesterday, the already small walls of Kingsbury Falls were closing in—even more claustrophobic than normal.

  I need to make this trip count. There has to be an actress who can play the role of Anna better than Maisie. I refuse to believe a trumped-up, self-important, sanctimonious country girl is the best I can find for a movie that will not only shape my career going forward but could very well bankrupt me if it doesn’t work out. This calls for a seasoned professional. Besides, I can’t spend the entire shoot with a semi. I don’t know what the hell is in that girl’s lip gloss, but it causes a truly undesired effect.

  The first order of business is to get my house back.

  Cece isn’t the sharpest tool in the box, so it was pretty easy to figure out where she is right now, and thankfully, it’s not in my house. Social media can be a royal pain in the ass, but it has its uses. I take a cab home and am pleasantly surprised when my key turns the lock. I was expecting her to have changed the locks by now, and I immediately pull up the number of a locksmith to come and do exactly that.

  While I wait, I gather all of Cece’s clothes and junk, throwing it out on the curb for her to find when she reappears. It takes a few hours, but I’m now the proud owner of a new set of keys for every lock on the property. It’s amazing what a team of guys and a monetary incentive to get it done fast can accomplish.

  Wandering through each room, I’m bombarded with memories, both good and bad with friends and lovers. Finding my way to the kitchen, the refrigerator is stocked with booze and celery. Seems about right for Cece. I grab a beer, then a takeout menu from the drawer. Everything is just where I left it—familiar and a little eerie. The last time I was here, my life looked somewhat different than the way it does today—five movies lined up back-to-back, huge budgets, and the cream of the crop for co-stars—a million miles from Kingsbury Falls.

  I strip everything off the bed, throwing all the bedding into my fireplace and setting it alight, before putting a fresh set of sheets on the bed. I don’t want the stench of my ex burning my nostrils as I sleep. Tomorrow, I’m just going to order a new bed. In fact, as I look around, I’m thinking it’s time to redecorate the entire house.

  It’s two in the morning when I’m startled awake by incessant banging at the front door, my name being screamed with the gusto of a banshee.

  “You motherfucker! Open the damn door, J.J. This is my house, too.” I’ve never been more grateful for an intercom security system.

  “It’s not actually. It’s one hundred percent my house.”

  “You bastard! You can’t just throw out all my stuff. Where am I supposed to go?”

  “I… don’t… care. You’ve had months to find somewhere. Go hit up one of the many guys you fucked while we were together.”

  “I fucking hate you, J.J. Savage.”

  “The feeling’s mutual. Rot in hell, you miserable shrew. Goodbye, Cece.” The weight of her betrayal lifts from my shoulders, and just like that, a glimmer of hope returns to my psyche. I leave her screaming her head off and call my security company to come and escort her from the property. I don’t need to listen to anything else she has to say. I have a movie to make.

  With the prospect of getting back to sleep long gone, I set about making plans. Researching everything I can about Kingsbury Falls, the ranch, and most importantly, the reality of being a cowboy. I may not have put in the work when I first took on this role, but I’ll be damned if I’m anything less than overprepared when I return. Ethan sent me a list of prospective actresses who plan to audition this week. I add them to my list of research. Hopefully, one of them will fit the bill.

  “What were you thinking? You’ve just made this ten times worse.” Ethan isn’t amused at the stunt I pulled with Cece.

  “It’s my fucking house. Was I supposed to let her stay there, playing me for a fool for the rest of my life?”

  “No, but you could’ve gone about it in a less dramatic fashion.”

  “It was worth it. How bad can it really be for me at this point? I’m already the black sheep of Hollywood.” Ethan slumps into his chair across the desk from me.

  “True, but we were so close to spinning this to our advantage. Bad boy J.J. sent to the boonies and decides to bankroll an epic romance movie, saving jobs and giving some lowly actress her debut.”

  “Surely, now that I’m turning this into a major production, we can get a big-name actress to play across from me?”

  “Didn’t you like any of the profiles I sent over?”

  “One or two, but I’d rather get someone with their own following and draw for the billboard.”

  “I really think we should expl
oit the unknown angle. It’ll make it seem like you’re dedicated to the craft, not the box office. Jack and Dylan have both called me. They want you to consider the girl you’ve been running lines with. Dylan says you guys have off-the-chart chemistry. Is she an option?”

  “She’d be my last choice. She’s a colossal pain in the ass.”

  “Fine. We’ll audition the ones you like, but if you don’t find someone by the end of the week, I want to see this Maisie Bryant girl audition with you. Deal?”

  “I’d rather dip my nuts in boiling water. I’ll find someone.”

  My next stop is an out-of-the-way coffeehouse, my favorite place to go to when I don’t want to be found. It’s amazing what you can get away with when you’re sporting a baseball cap and shades in this town. Losing myself in the crowd, I wander down the familiar streets, the sights and smells tantalizing my senses. It’s a far cry from the small-town living I’ve been forced to endure lately.

  The minute I go inside, I spy her in the corner, my best friend, Hazel. We started out together in an ad campaign. She decided acting wasn’t for her, but she’s the best producer I know. There has always been speculation about us, but I’m not her type—I have a penis. Behind her equally inventive ballcap and shades, I could pick her smile out of a lineup. Warmth spreads throughout my body at the sight of someone who’s genuinely happy to see me. It’s been lacking the past few months.

  My order is already waiting across from her at the beat-up round table we etched our names in years ago. We don’t stand to hug or draw attention to ourselves in any way. Instead, I take a seat, sliding my hand over to grab hers.