Dreaming Of Your Love (Hollywood Legends #3)

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Dreaming Of Your Love (Hollywood Legends #3) Page 7

by Mary J. Williams


  “Really?” Sable could have turned away. She didn’t. “I’m not one of the guys.”

  Colt grinned. “No. You are not. Thank God.”

  “Have you no modesty? Go in the other room.”

  “My underwear covers all the private bits.” Colt grabbed the jeans. He did as she asked, stepping into the bathroom, out of sight. “Prude.”

  “Hardly. I was a woman in the Army. I’ve seen plenty of men without their pants.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “Privacy is at a premium in a war zone, pretty boy. Even in the Army, you go behind a bush if one is available.”

  “Pretty boy? Are we back to that?”

  “I call them as I see them.”

  “I’m not pretty. I’m ruggedly handsome.”

  Automatically, Sable took the lead. She opened the trailer door, checked right, then left, then signaling Colt to stay, she did a quick jog around the structure.

  “Is that necessary?” Colt linked his fingers with hers.

  It felt strange—holding hands with a man. Sable searched her memory for the last time it happened. As a teenager? Maybe. She decided she liked the way it felt.

  “Yes. It’s my job to keep you safe.”

  “Do you expect to find many desperadoes lurking behind my trailer?”

  “Unfortunately, they lurk everywhere, Colt. If they didn’t, I would need to find a new line of work.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind next time I use a public restroom.”

  “Don’t worry about it. That’s why you have me.”

  Colt stopped short. “You’re going to check out the men’s room before you let me use it?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Sable didn’t see anything odd in her proclamation. Colt didn’t agree.

  “Looks like I’ll be doing my business here or at home.”

  “Don’t be silly. I do this all the time.”

  “What about the guys already in there?” Colt shook his head at the thought. “Don’t they object to a woman pounding on doors and checking the stalls?”

  It had never been an issue because Sable didn’t give them time to react. Most were so stunned at her audacity they didn’t cover anything that was exposed.

  “I’m not there for a peep show, Colt. I get in and out as quickly as possible.”

  “Has it ever paid off?”

  “Once.”

  “This I have to hear. What happened?”

  Sable shared the details while they walked to Colt’s car. He was a wonderful audience. He laughed at the appropriate spots, squeezing her hand encouragingly. She enjoyed sharing a part of her life she always kept to herself. Not for security reasons. She didn’t think it was interesting. Despite the potential for trouble, she rarely found any. Recounting her day-to-day routine would bore the most tolerant listener.

  “My entrance startled the shooter, and he dropped his gun in the toilet. Before he could fish it out, I had him restrained.”

  “You could have been shot.” Colt didn’t find that funny.

  “No,” Sable assured him. Colt snorted. “Maybe. I wasn’t, so it’s a moot point.”

  “Your job is dangerous.” Colt stopped, his blue eyes shadowed with concern.

  “Potentially. It almost never happens.”

  “Almost? Have you ever been shot at?”

  “At?” Sable decided to skirt the question. “No. Never.”

  “Jesus. Someone shot you?”

  Colton Landis was a smart cookie. Too smart. She had to watch what she said around him.

  “Grazed.” Sable pulled him along. “A little rubbing alcohol and a Band-Aid and I was as good as new.”

  “Show me the scar.”

  “No. Like my tattoo, it is in a place you will never see.”

  Colt took out his keys and unlocked the doors. He already knew the routine. Sable wouldn’t let him hold her door. She insisted that he get in the car before she did. He didn’t like it, but she wouldn’t budge.

  “You have a tattoo?” he asked when after she slipped into the passenger seat.

  “An Army Ranger insignia.”

  Colt started the car and shifted into drive. “Tell me where it is.”

  “Why torture yourself?” Sable couldn’t resist teasing him. “It’s better if you don’t know.”

  “I don’t agree,” he grumbled.

  Sable sat back and relaxed. She mentioned the tattoo to distract Colt. And it worked. He didn’t mention the gunshot wound again. She didn’t fool herself. He hadn’t forgotten. But he let it slide. For now.

  The tattoo was another matter altogether. They both knew why Colt didn’t push the issue. He believed they were destined to have sex. He would get her naked and look for the ink.

  “It is not going to happen.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, if it makes you feel better.”

  “You are impossible.”

  Sable punched him in the arm. She gave him points for not crying out; she didn’t hold back. However, he winced, and that gave her a lot of satisfaction.

  “I will never again accuse someone of hitting like a girl.”

  Delighted, Sable burst out laughing. Keeping her hormones in check would be a challenge. But she looked forward to spending time with Colt. He made her smile, and laugh—and think. A unique combination.

  Nope. He was not a vapid pretty boy. He was much more. And Sable couldn’t wait to discover the many layers of Colton Landis.

  “YOU’RE MY GIRLFRIEND.”

  “Pretend girlfriend. It isn’t necessary for us to be inseparable.”

  “Let me get this straight. You are willing to sit for hours on a movie set, but you won’t dine with me? Trance has the best ravioli this side of Rome.”

  Colt’s stubborn streak was a mile wide. It was one of those many layers Sable would have happily skipped. They weren’t engaging in a discussion. Or an argument. Colt’s tone never changed. Nor did his stance. Reasonable and intractable. How was she supposed to deal with that?

  “What does the menu have to do with anything?” Sable shifted on the sofa. They arrived home over an hour ago. The only break in this conversation came when Colt took ten minutes to shower.

  “Why pass up an amazing meal? Have you been to Trance?”

  “No.”

  “Case closed.”

  “What?” Sable jumped to her feet, rushing after him. “There is no case. You’ve already told me that this is a working dinner. It makes sense for you to show up alone. My boss has arranged with the owner of Trance to let me watch you from the kitchen.”

  It was the first time Sable had entered Colt’s bedroom. It was almost twice the size of hers. Why one person needed so much space, she would never know. However, she liked the soothing tones of green and blue. And she appreciated a good view. Her balcony back in Harper Falls could fit onto the one that overlooked Los Angeles, at least five times. But the principle was the same. It was a getaway space. Surrounded by people, yet isolated.

  “I refuse.”

  “You can’t refuse. It is a done deal.”

  “Why are you fighting me so hard?”

  Colt entered his walk-in closet, his voice becoming muffled.

  Sable had her reasons. Good ones. Her part as the devoted girlfriend was a great cover. That cover would begin to slip if it appeared that she had leached herself onto Colt. They shouldn’t be seen together all the time. Tonight would be a perfect opportunity to shake some attention.

  “Why are you?” she demanded. “If our relationship were real, would we go everywhere together?”

  “I plan on enjoying my meal,” he called out. “How can I do that knowing you’re lurking in the kitchen?”

  “I don’t lurk.”

  Colt ignored her. He exited the closet carrying a gray suit that sported a stylish thin, black pinstripe. “Think of my digestion. My stomach and I will be happier with you by my side. Give me a good reason you shouldn’t join me.”

  “I’ll have a
better view of the restaurant from the kitchen.”

  “Not good enough.”

  “I need to keep my attention focused on you, not ravioli.”

  “Try again.”

  “My wardrobe is limited. I have casual, and I have dressy. It’s the in between that’s the problem.” All true. However, Sable had the knack of making almost anything look fashionable. Call it champagne taste on a beer budget.

  “Normally I would have purchased a few things before I arrived, but I didn’t have time.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you say so?”

  “I just did,” she shot back.

  Colt dropped his suit on the bed.

  “Come on.”

  He grabbed her hand, pulling her from his room to hers. Colt opened her closet and surveyed the contents.

  “You dress well,” Colt said. He looked her up and down. “I noticed that when you guarded Jade. Your taste is excellent, and you have a good eye for color.”

  “Good?” Sable’s eyes narrowed. She might not have the money to buy designer originals, but no one could fault her style. “Try excellent.”

  “Agreed.” Colt handed her a simple pale lavender sheath dress and a pair of sling-back heels. “Those will do nicely. Nobody can see the labels, Sable.”

  “In Beverly Hills? Think again.”

  “You know the old saying. The clothes don’t make the woman. You look fantastic, no matter what you wear.”

  “Flattery?” Sable smiled, taking the dress and holding it up in front of the mirror. It suited her. “And I think you garbled that saying.”

  Colt shrugged. “I like my way. It fits. And it’s true. Now, about your underwear.”

  “I can handle the rest,” she said, pushing him out the door.

  “Party pooper. Things were getting interesting.”

  “I’ll be ready in thirty minutes.”

  “Really?” Colt looked impressed. “Take your time. It will take me at least an hour.”

  “To put on a suit?” Sable blinked. He had to be kidding.

  “It’s a process.”

  “An asinine process.”

  Colt grinned. “Welcome to my world where asinine is another word for Hollywood.”

  Alone, Sable sighed. Wyatt Landis paid her salary, but Colt was her boss. If he insisted on having her by his side, she had no choice but to comply.

  Sable began applying her makeup. Perhaps she needed to switch gears—mentally. She had played the girlfriend before now. However, none of those jobs lasted longer than a few days.

  Funny how that mimicked real life. Men came and went. Casual. Pleasant. Forgettable. Sable wanted to treat Colt the same and hold him at a distance. Their mutual attraction aside, she knew she didn’t have that luxury. Not this time.

  Colt couldn’t make a move without drawing attention. A live-in girlfriend counted as more than news. As soon as word got around, Sable’s face would be splashed all over the internet. Rumors would run rampant. Wedding plans? Babies?

  Sable needed to prepare herself for an onslaught from every direction. Including, God help her, her mother.

  Hopefully, there would be time enough to worry about the inevitable accusatory phone call. Would there be approval or horror? Either way, Sable knew her mother’s reaction was bound to be over the top.

  That was a bridge, lined with explosives, that Sable would cross another time. Today, on set, Colt had introduced her as his girlfriend. No one batted an eye. They had jobs to do. Worrying about their star’s latest squeeze was far down their list of concerns. Tonight would be different. A new world.

  Luckily, Sable loved an adventure. The more it challenged her, the better. It was time for her to hone a new set of skills.

  She needed to learn the ins and outs of being the perfect Hollywood girlfriend.

  TRANCE WAS EVERYTHING Colt built it up to be—and more. Luxurious, exclusive, and a little obnoxious in the way they slathered Colt with attention.

  He took it with good grace and a wink, letting Sable know he understood that it was nothing but bullshit.

  Colton Landis, movie star. When his movies made tons of money, he ruled Hollywood. At the moment, Colt was top of the heap. Next year that might change, but for now, people climbed over each other to bow and scrape, hoping some of his luster would run off onto them.

  That included the woman interviewing Colt, Sable realized from the moment they joined her at their table. Izzy Clark was young, pretty, and savvy enough not to flirt with Colt when his girlfriend sat inches away.

  And she only cared about his glitzy exterior. She couldn’t have cared less about the real man.

  “Do you mind if I record the interview?” she asked Colt.

  “Not at all.”

  “I feel honored.” Izzy set her phone in the middle of the table and beamed at Colt, her eyes occasionally darting Sable’s way. “I get to break the news of your new relationship. How thrilling. Tonight is a coming-out party, so to speak.”

  Sable groaned. Good Lord. Before she could roll her eyes, Colt nudged her leg. Play the part. Her lips curved, hiding tightly clenched teeth. This girlfriend thing would be harder than she anticipated.

  “When did you meet?”

  “Sable and my brother’s fiancée are dear friends. Jade introduced us last fall.”

  The woman had a lousy poker face. Sable could tell she wanted to use the opening to ask about Jade and Garrett. The story was a juicy one. The furor it stirred up hadn’t died down. Wisely, she kept her questions to herself. She was ambitious. And smart enough to know what subject matter was off limits.

  “Was it love at first sight?”

  Izzy directed the question at Sable.

  “Love?” Sable shrugged, then proceeded to skirt the word like a pro. She looked at Colt, her smile warming. Time to jump in—full-tilt girlfriend mode. “Not at first. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not blind. Looking at Colt is no hardship.”

  Izzy laughed. And laughed. Okay, Sable thought. Not that funny.

  “I knew I wanted to get to know her. I’m fortunate that she agreed.”

  Colt raised her hand to his lips. His mouth curved upward against her skin and his eyes sparkled. He knew that Sable was out of her element—swimming hard against the tide that wanted to swallow her under—and he enjoyed every moment. The bastard.

  “Are you officially off the market?”

  “We’re living together.”

  Izzy gasped. Skin flushed with excitement; she checked her phone to make certain she got every word.

  Colt’s reaction wasn’t as obvious, though Sable read him with ease. If they hadn’t been in a room filled with eager observers, he would have burst out laughing.

  “How long ago did you move in?”

  “Yesterday,” Colt replied. “It’s new.”

  “What is your family’s reaction?”

  There was a question behind the question. Izzy hoped the Landis clan hated Sable and disapproved of the relationship. Sable understood that Izzy had a job to do. But did she believe Colt would say such a thing?

  Later, Sable asked Colt that very question when they were alone in his loft.

  “She can hope. It wouldn’t be the first time a celebrity said more than was prudent.”

  Colt had changed into jeans and a t-shirt. The suit and tie were nice. The pictures taken by the paparazzi as they entered and left the restaurant would make women swoon. Sable had to admit, Colt’s impeccably tailored clothing set off his long, muscled frame to perfection—the gray of the material deepening the blue of his eyes.

  However, Sable liked him best casual and relaxed. He crossed his ankles and sighed.

  “She pushed the champagne. Then proceeded to drink most of it.”

  “Mmm.” Closing his eyes, Colt patted the sofa. He smiled when Sable joined him. “She never recovered from your bombshell. Ms. Clark believed she would interview me about my new movie. Instead, how did she put it? She scooped the world. You can’t blame her for falling apart. You made h
er career.”

  “That wasn’t my intention. But, hey, I’m all for doing my part to advance my fellow woman. Even if I find her job morally reprehensible.”

  Colt peered at Sable, one eye firmly shut.

  “Isn’t that a bit harsh?”

  “Is it? She almost drooled when you mentioned Jade. She wanted you to throw her and your family under the bus. “

  Colt’s mouth tightened. “That wasn’t going to happen.”

  “But if you were a different kind of man, one who slipped after a few glasses of wine, she would gleefully write every dirty secret without a single tinge of conscience. I stick with my assessment. In fact, reprehensible might be letting her off lightly.”

  Sable stretched her legs out next to Colt’s, their bare feet inches apart.

  “You found your rhythm quickly.” Colt tapped her toe with his. “You were a natural in front of the paparazzi.”

  “They threw me at first, but I reminded myself that they had the cameras. I had the gun.”

  “Ouch. Literally.”

  They fell into a comfortable, easy conversation. The tone of Colt’s voice, low and soothing was the perfect accompaniment to his stories about growing up with three brothers and high-profile parents.

  Colt didn’t speak of his mother in reverent tones. She wasn’t Callie Flynn: Superstar. She was Mom. Loving. Strong. Supportive. Willing to let her boys be who they were meant to be. Surprisingly, Colt painted the picture of a normal childhood—quite a feat, all things considered.

  “You’ve seen how she is. There isn’t a pretentious bone in Mom’s body.”

  “I know. Callie made me feel welcome the moment I stepped into her home. Five minutes later, I almost forgot I was sitting next to an Academy Award winner.” Sable’s eyes widened. “Holy crap,” she laughed.

  “What?”

  “You were nominated.”

  Colt chuckled. “But I didn’t win.”

  “You will.”

  Delighted, and a little surprised, Colt turned. “You think so?”

  “It’s simply a matter of time.”

  Sable stared out the window at the city lights. From here, they saw only beauty. She knew ugly things happened out there, but while they sat, alone and quiet, none of it could touch them.

 

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