by Jodi Redford
The moment his feet touched the stage an all too familiar uneasiness settled over him. Just once he’d like to have his anxiety take the night off. Sure as hell would be a nice change of pace. Yeah, the queasiness would be fleeting. Once he was locked into character, he’d be fine. God willing.
He stepped next to Curtis and the older dancer automatically straightened the lapel on Grady’s leather vest. “Shit, Grinder. How’d you manage to dress yourself before I came along?”
“It was a struggle.” He watched the rest of the guys take their mark. They all appeared eager and excited to be there. Not a chance any of them were worried they’d toss their cookies.
Ford joined them on the stage. “Okay, this will go exactly like it did in rehearsal, only with the cameras rolling. Treat this like a normal night for you.”
Right on cue, Grady’s stomach cramped. Fuck. It would have to take Beckett’s advice to heart. Ignoring the complaints in his gut, he concentrated on Ford’s speech. Firmly entrenched in his director role, Ford went over the scene one last time and threw in a few additional words of encouragement before he jogged down the steps. His crew rushed to their various stations. The tall chick crossed to Ford’s side. He said something to her that earned the narrowing of her eyes, which in turn made him break out into a huge grin. That only seemed to twist her panties into a few more knots. Definitely some interesting chemistry between those two. He was curious to know what her connection was to his lovely bombshell. Sisters? Could definitely be. The resemblance was there, despite the height difference and hair coloring.
Tall Chick grabbed a folder from one of the crew people and sashayed toward an empty table. Ford’s gaze remained firmly glued to her ass for the duration of her stroll and didn’t return to the stage until she sat down. He motioned to the cameraman next to him and then called, “Action.”
Jason queued up the remix of Macklemore’s Dance Off the exact second Grady’s brain queued up his dad’s mocking laugh.
“You really think you’re not going to fuck this up, boy? Just because you can shake your wiener don’t make ya special. And that whole business about acting? Ain’t possible to fake your way through reading a script. Looks like you’ll finally get exposed for the dumbass you are.”
“Cut!”
The word cracked through Grady’s conscious. It took a moment for the music to rip to a halt. Once it did, every eye in the joint slid to Grady. The perspiration dotting his skin had nothing to do with the overhead spotlights. He’d gyrated around this stage in way less than he was currently wearing, yet he’d never felt more naked as he did right then.
Curtis gave him a worried look. “You okay, kid?”
Grady nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Who knew what the hell would come out of his mouth? Puking certainly wouldn’t convince any of them that he had his shit together.
“Okay, let’s try this again.” Ford gestured to the camera and the music started up again.
Right on the button, Grady’s old man began his usual spiel too. “Jesus Christ. Even I didn’t think you’d blow it that soon. Way to prove me right, shit for brains.”
“Cut!” Ford frowned at Grady. “Are you sure you’re all right? We can take a break, or even shoot the whole scene without you if you’re camera shy.”
Grady swung his gaze to Harper. Concern etched his cousin’s features. A bitter ball of shame lodged in the back of his throat. She’d done so much for him, and this is how he repaid her. By fucking up the shoot and probably embarrassing her. Maybe he should do as Ford suggested and sit out the scene.
But doing that would prove his pop was right. That he was a loser and a failure. Even worse, a quitter.
No. Hell no. He refused to go down like this. He wouldn’t disappoint Harper. With greater assurance than he felt, he shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The cameraman glanced over his shoulder at Ford. “Boss, I don’t know about this.”
Ford’s scrutiny continued searing into Grady. After one of the longest hesitations in history, Beckett smiled. “No, he’s got this.”
Well, at least one person in the room seemed sure of it. Everyone reclaimed their marks and the music track restarted. This time Grady managed to go through the motions along with his fellow dancers. It’d be an exaggeration to label it his best performance ever. His timing wasn’t for shit and his groove had apparently decided to take a siesta. Fucking great.
From the corner of his eye, he spied movement across the room. Ms. Angel Face. She joined Tall Chick at the table up front. The two women put their heads close together and fierce whispering broke out between them. That fascinating blush he’d noticed earlier reappeared on Angel’s cheeks and she slowly lifted her gaze to him.
And just like that, his mojo reentered the building with the heralding of trumpets. Crazy how the attention of the most beautiful girl in existence unscrambled all of the chaos in his brain. There was no way he was going to let her think he had two left feet and not a spec of rhythm. For fuck’s sake, he was The Grinder. This was his chance to impress and show her firsthand the devastation he could wreck with his hips. It was goddamn time to live up to his hype.
Fortunately, each guy had a thirty-second solo in the act. It enabled them to offer a taste of their independent styles and signature moves. Grady was the closer. When his turn arrived he was more than ready to leave it all out on that stage. His body undulating with the beat, he dipped into a grinding corkscrew, his hands drifting lower on his abdomen with every pop of his hips. With one seamless motion, he dropped into a plank position and rolled his entire body in a smooth, sinuous wave, his gaze fused with Ms. Angel’s the whole time. If she wasn’t one-hundred percent certain she was the recipient of his provocative floor humping he damn well needed to pack it in and get a new job.
The music ended and the room went dead silent in the wake of Macklemore’s speedy departure. Grady barely registered any of it. His focus remained pinned on his bombshell, who was staring at him with saucer-sized eyes.
Ford yelled for them to cut filming, and the woman operating the other camera grunted. “I need a damn cigarette after that.”
An enormous grin homesteading his face, Ford approached the stage. “Kid, I see where you got your name. That was brilliant and inspiring.”
“Thanks. Appreciate it.” Grady pushed to his feet and was immediately bombarded with well-deserved heckling from the other guys for his earlier white boy moves. Yeah, they’d never let him live that down. Right now he didn’t much care. He had far more important matters requiring his attention.
He jumped from the stage and strode purposefully in Angel’s direction. Her expression remained slightly dazed as if she wasn’t entirely certain what just happened. He was vaguely aware that Tall Chick’s Dirty Harry squint seemed to be centered on him. Not really sure what that was about. Again, not something he intended to dwell on at the moment. He hauled short in front of their table and smiled at Angel. “Hey.”
Her complexion resembled an overcooked lobster but the sweet, tentative smile she offered filled him with a warm glow of hope. “Hi. You’re amazing.” She flushed, going several vibrant shades of red. “I mean your dancing is amazing. I’ve never seen anyone move their body like that.”
In any other situation, he would have pounced on that opening. For starters, he could suggest showing her a few of his best moves back at her place or his. The kind that would leave them both sweaty and satisfied. There were easily a million and one ways he might have gone with it. All of them infinitely better than the befuddled state he was suspended in.
Her voice. The dizzying familiarity hit him like a sledgehammer the instant she’d opened her mouth.
It wasn’t possible. How could it be? And yet it was equally impossible for him to be wrong. No fucking way. A full year of being seduced by and obsessed with that voice guaranteed that he knew it better than his own.
His head spinning, he choked out the only response he could manufacture. “
Charlie.”
CHAPTER FOUR
A weird sense of dėjá vu tickling at her, Charlie blinked at the gorgeous stranger standing over her. “Err, do I know you?” There’s no way she could. If she’d ever met this Chris Evans lookalike Adonis with the sinful moves she would certainly remember it. A stick of dynamite wouldn’t have blasted the memory from her mind.
And yet...there was something hauntingly familiar about him. And for some reason, the way he was staring at her made her think of those eyewitness reports of sketchy Bigfoot sightings. “My God, she’s real. Funny, I thought she’d be much taller. And hairier.” She shook off the fanciful thought.
“Yeah.” His gaze searched her face. “We definitely know each other.”
She opened her mouth to ask for an elaboration, only to become distracted by his hand gliding down his torso. He unbuttoned his vest, revealing a sculpted chest and a six-pack tight enough to bounce a quarter off of. Dear God. How many million crunches a day did it take to achieve that? She tried to tear her focus away—honestly, she did—but one of the colorful tattoos decorating his tanned skin caught her eye.
Wait, was that...
An unsettling sensation swept over her. Like she was one of those clueless heroines in a horror flick who always opened the closet door despite all the warning signs that the boogie man waited on the other side. Don’t do it, you fool.
Too late. Her morbid curiosity outshouting all else, she leaned forward for a better look. The tat was a unicorn. But not just any mere unicorn. A lady unicorn with enormous knockers. A single word was inked in a halo above the creature’s colorful mane. Charlie.
Grady’s voice penetrated the fog bubble-wrapping her brain. “You have rainbow hair and magnificent tits.”
Oh. Shit.
Her heart pounding, she lifted her stare to his and swallowed hard. “McHorny?” It came out a croaked whisper.
His single nod was completely unnecessary to confirm her horrible suspicion. The evidence stood before her in glaring, Technicolor unicorn detail.
This wasn’t happening. Any second now she’d wake up from this surreal nightmare.
Only...this seemed way too scarily real. And usually, in nightmares like this, she was naked. According to the dream books she’d obsessively read on the subject, her public nakedness was her subconscious fear of exposure. Of having all of her vulnerabilities and imperfections out in the open. Again. Considering this moment pretty much mirrored every single piece of emotional baggage she carried, it would absolutely make sense she’d be naked.
So this was one-hundred percent real. Her stomach a queasy roller coaster of sensation, she pushed to her feet. “Excuse me a sec.” Not waiting around for anyone’s reply, she hurried to the bathroom. Good thing she already knew where it was. She could thank the aftereffect of her kale smoothie for that currently convenient fact. Perspiring like crazy, she ducked into the lavatory and bee-lined for the closest stall. She slammed the door behind her and swiped at her damp forehead. Hot and cold flashes alternated through her and she swayed, dizzy beyond belief.
Distant chatter trickled into the restroom, announcing that someone had stepped inside. “Sis?”
She winced at the evident worry in Kaitlin’s voice. God, she must have done a crappy job of hiding her discomposure out there. “I’m okay. Just give me a moment.”
A knock sounded, followed almost immediately by Grady asking if he could come in.
“No, you evil- hipped motherfucker,” Kait snapped.
Charlie winced. If she wasn’t completely squicked out about public restroom germs, she would have crawled into the corner of the stall and never come out. “Let him in.”
“Forget it. He’s the reason you’re in here. I’m not going to let him make it worse.”
Exhaling wearily, Charlie abandoned the sanctuary of the stall. Kait was leaning against the outer door, her arms stubbornly shoved over her chest. Charlie rubbed her temples. “Why would you jump to that conclusion?” Even if it might possibly be a teensy bit true.
“Puh-lease. It’s obvious he made you uncomfortable with his completely inappropriate behavior.”
“Uh, he’s a stripper. He was only doing his job. For your boss, in case you forgot. ”
The obstinacy didn’t budge from Kait’s face. “That floor hump was only for one person’s benefit, and we both know it sure as hell wasn’t Ford.”
“I appreciate your protectiveness, but it’s not needed. I’ve been having a negative reaction to that damn smoothie, and now I’m super embarrassed about it. That’s all.”
Kait’s brow furrowed. “I told you it wasn’t going to be enough for you to eat.”
“I know. Guess I should have listened.” She gestured to the door handle. “Would you let him come in now?”
Her grumble making it clear she was thoroughly against that idea, Kait opened the door. She pinned a dark look on Grady. “If you upset her, you die.”
Charlie dug the heel of her palm into her forehead. “You can go now, Kait.”
“No way.”
She gritted her teeth at her sister’s mulish countenance. “I need to talk to Grady, alone. Please respect my right to privacy.”
As predicted, Kait appeared completely wounded by that last part. Charlie didn’t like having to word it so bluntly, but it was necessary. Kait stepped toward the exit and Grady moved out of the way. Her sister’s bulldog expression returned and she pointed to her eyes and then swung her fingers in front of Grady’s face before she sulked out the door. He grunted, apparently having received the message loud and clear.
Silence descended once she and Grady were alone. They stood staring at each other for a long moment, the tension a living presence between them. Her nerves performing an epic Riverdance, she finally broke the unbearable quiet. “Well, this is awkward.”
His pensive gaze scanned her face. “Did you really come in here because of me?”
Damn Kait for having a voice that carried through thick walls. “No, I wasn’t lying about the smoothie. And now I’m really embarrassed.”
“Why?”
She gusted a soft sigh at his genuine confusion. “McHorny, breaking the ice with the hot guy I’ve been having phone sex with for the last year is hard enough. Let’s not bring my irritable bowel into this convo, all right?”
His grin was downright devastating. “You think I’m hot?”
Well, at least he wasn’t focusing on her bowel issues. “I’m pretty sure I’m not the first woman to tell you that, so you can stop digging for compliments.”
“I’m not. And I don’t give a shit about other women.” He stepped toward her. “I’m the last damn person you should feel awkward around.”
Except you know things about me that no one else does. Every dirty, perverted thought in her head, to be precise. For God’s sake, he knew what she sounded like when she came.
Of course, she knew all those things about him too. But he didn’t seem the least bit perturbed by any of it. Then again, he took his clothes off for a living. Most likely he wasn’t haunted by dreams of being nude in public. “We were never supposed to meet.”
“Maybe the universe saw it differently. Maybe today was fate stepping in. I wasn’t even supposed to be here. It’s technically my day off.” He reached out and fingered one of the long strands of hair curling over her shoulder. “So soft.”
She shivered. Damn. It really had been a long time since she’d gotten laid if she was this turned on from a man simply stroking her hair. It didn’t help it was McHorny doing the fondling. He’d been her personal Kryptonite far too long. And that was before she knew about his hips’ superhuman powers.
Flushing at the memory of his performance, she cleared her throat. “I really wasn’t supposed to be here either. Kaitlin talked me into it.”
“See, it was destiny.” Recognition flickered in his eyes and he dropped his hand. She was torn between relief and regret over the loss of his touch. He shook his head, the corner of his lips hitched
in a crooked, rueful slant. “She is your sister. Damn, I did a great job with the first impression, huh?”
“Don’t worry about it. Kait tends to bust every guy’s chops. Especially when it comes to me. She goes a little overboard with the big sister thing.” There was a reason for it, but she didn’t want to think about that now. Not when she was already stressed about Grady and this equivalent of the world’s worse public nudity dream.
She leaned against the sink basin, only to spring away from it a second later when something cold and wet seeped into her pants. Her focus veered from the puddle of water on the edge of the counter and up to the mirror. A big, incriminating wet spot sat smack dab on her left buttcheek. She smothered a groan. Could this get any worse? Don’t say shit like that. It was only asking for trouble, because the universe was usually more than happy to oblige.
Grady stepped around her and snagged a handful of paper towels from the dispenser. Before she could grab them from him, he pressed the crumpled wad on her soaked rear and began blotting it. And that was how fate reminded her it could be worse. So much worse. The hottest guy in the world with his hands all over her big booty. She should be enjoying this, but all she wanted to do was crawl under a rock. Instead, she expelled a shaky breath. “You make me nervous as hell.” Oh God. Did she really blurt that out loud? Apparently, she was determined to keep making this as awkward as humanly possible.
A frown pulled Grady’s eyebrows into a low V and he glanced up from his task. “Why?”
She couldn’t tell him about her baggage. Of all the insecurities she hoarded like a squirrel with a massive case of OCD. So she gave him a small snapshot of the bigger picture. “Look at you. I can’t get my brain to function with all of this going on.” She gestured to his torso. “I feel like I’m stumbling over my tongue. I don’t know how to talk to you like a normal person. And I can’t even blame it on you having your hand on my ass.” Although, that certainly wasn’t helping matters.
“I’m still me, Charlie. Grady. Or McHorny. You’ve always been able to talk to me. Our openness with each other has always been one of the things I love about us.”
