She's Far From Hollywood

by Jo McNally

  “Girlfriend, huh? That’s news to me, Hollywood.”

  She jumped to her feet and turned to face Cole as he pushed off the corner of the porch where he’d been leaning for who knows how long. He was staring hard at her, his lips thin and tight. A muscle in his cheek ticked dangerously. It was the same expression he wore in The Hide-Away a week ago.

  “I wasn’t seriously saying I was...” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word girlfriend out loud again.

  Chris moved closer to Bree, which didn’t appear to help Cole’s mood any.

  “Hey, man, we thought you’d deserted us. Anna’s been playing hostess in your absence.”

  Cole slowly turned his attention to Chris then nodded at Jerome and Ramirez where they sat. His foul mood quickly dampened everyone’s smiles. He strode forward and grabbed Bree’s forearm, propelling her away from his friends. She barely had time to toss Jerome’s prosthetic back to him.

  “I need to talk to my new girlfriend.” He snarled the words as he yanked the screen door open.

  “Easy, Cole.” Chris rested his hand on Cole’s shoulder. “We didn’t make any moves on your girl, and she’s cool by us.”

  Jerome and Ramirez nodded in agreement.

  “Very cool.”

  “The coolest.”

  Cole just shrugged. “Make all the moves you want, boys. She’s not my girl.”

  Bree found herself being pushed into Cole’s house. The furnishings were sparse and the walls were plain. Just like the outside, the interior looked lived-in, but without signs of actual life. Her fleeting observation was forgotten when he spun her around to face him.

  “What the hell do you think you were doing out there?”

  She yanked her arm free and stood tall, looking him right in the eye. She knew the guy had issues, but she was not about to let him push her around every time they met. “Nell and I brought over some pies for you and your friends. They asked me to stay, so I did. I joined them in drinking a beer or two, and we had some laughs. Since you’re supposed to actually like these guys, I don’t understand what you’re so angry about.”

  “Really?” He ran his fingers through his hair in agitation. “I hear you say you’re my girlfriend, and see you using Jerome’s prosthetic as a chin rest, and you think that’s okay? These guys deserve to be taken seriously, damn it. They’re not some freak show for your amusement.”

  She threw her hands in the air.

  “You see, that’s the problem with eavesdropping—you don’t get the whole story. I was making a joke, Cole. Nell told them I was your friend, and they assumed the rest.” She shook her head in disgust. “Honestly, do you really think I’d decide we’re in a relationship just because you had me in your arms for a nanosecond yesterday and didn’t do anything about it?”

  His mouth opened, but she didn’t give him a chance to interrupt.

  “As far as taking your friends seriously, I’ve been around injured vets before. I let them take the lead in the conversation. I wasn’t laughing at them, you idiot, I was laughing with them.”

  He looked confused and then his expression started to soften, which just made her more angry. That he was now having second thoughts didn’t change the fact that he always jumped to the worst conclusions where she was concerned.

  “Just how shallow and stupid do you think I am?” She stepped forward, and he moved back as if pushed by the waves of anger rolling off her. “Do you think I asked Jerome to hand me his leg because I was tired and thought it looked like a comfortable headrest? Do you think I would do anything to make Ramirez self-conscious about his injuries?” She fought back the tears of indignation gathering in her eyes. “You know what? Don’t bother answering that. You don’t know me at all. And you never will.” She brushed past him and he let her go without saying a word.

  She paused just a moment at the door to brush the dampness from her cheeks before she faced the three men on the porch. They leaped to their feet when she stepped outside. She gave them her best pageant smile, but her face flushed as she realized they probably heard every word of the argument through the screen door.

  Chris spoke first. “He’s been in a mood all day. Don’t let his snarl get to you. His bark is a lot worse than his bite.”

  She stared back at the door in silence then nodded.

  “Right. I should go. It was fun, boys. You take care of yourselves, okay?”

  She was surprised when Ramirez pulled her into a hug. “Hang in there, Anna. Cole’s a hell of a good guy.”

  Jerome was next, his prosthetic firmly back in place. “Now I know why’s he’s been so edgy. He hasn’t had a lady friend in way too long. He doesn’t know what to do with his feelings sometimes. We all have that problem when it comes to real emotions. They can be terrifying. That’s why we crack jokes.”

  Chris wrapped his arms around her and held her close. It wasn’t a romantic hug. It was more like friendly reassurance. His voice broke just a little when he spoke. “I’m really glad he’s fallen for someone...”

  She started to object, but he talked over her.

  “Don’t deny it. I can see it in his eyes. Even if he hasn’t told you yet, even if he doesn’t know it himself, he cares about you. He was jealous, Anna. You were yukking it up with his crazy friends, and he didn’t like it one bit.” Over his shoulder, Bree could see Jerome and Ramirez nodding in agreement. “We’ll all catch hell for our language and stuff in front of his lady, but we can take it. Just don’t give up on him. He’s the best of us.”

  Their display of affection and concern, along with their fierce loyalty to their friend, rendered her speechless. Her composure slipped for a moment, then she took a breath and brightened her smile again. She didn’t have the heart to tell them they were wrong. Wrong about Cole’s feelings. Wrong about him being jealous over anything to do with her. She gave them each a peck on the cheek and turned away.

  As she walked down the driveway with her back to them, her tears flowed freely. She wouldn’t even consider getting involved with someone who so clearly had no respect for her. He was constantly pushing her away with his anger and insults. Did he do it as some twisted form of self-defense? Maybe.

  But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

  * * *

  “YOU ARE THE stupidest guy I’ve ever met. You know that, right?”

  Chris leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the porch railing. He didn’t look at Cole when he spoke, but there was no doubt who he was talking to, since Ramirez and Jerome were nodding along in agreement. The guys had carefully avoided bringing Bree up since her hasty exit. They’d shared a meal of grilled burgers and corn on the cob, talking about sports and politics. Now they were back on the porch, watching as evening settled across the countryside. Having had their fill of beer, they’d moved on to some fine Southern whiskey. As usual, his guests would be spending the night on the farm. There was always room in his home for these special friends. The same friends who were now staring at him in disappointment.

  “Shut up, Chris. You know nothing about her.” He drained his glass and reached for the bottle to refill it. Bree’s words were still rattling around his head, along with the hurt he’d seen in her eyes. It had just been such a shock to watch her being all buddy-buddy with the guys on the porch, laughing and calling herself his girlfriend. Those words struck him straight in the heart, and he’d panicked.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s what she accused you of, man,” Chris said. “Not knowing her. Why would you not want to know everything about a woman like Anna?”

  He gave a short laugh and drained his glass. “You think you know so much, Chris. That’s not even her real name. She’s just playacting out here as Daisy Duke. She’s a Hollywood diva, and she’ll be heading back to Malibu any day now to drape herself in diamonds and hang out with her ritzy friends.”

&
nbsp; He felt a stab of regret for spilling her secrets, but then again, he’d trust these men with his own life, much less Bree’s. So he told them the story of her arrival, and her claims of being chased by a stalker. And then, because they were fellow soldiers, he told them about his weird experience at the bar a week ago, when he went to get her and had some kind of flashback, dragging her forcefully out of The Hide-Away.

  The men silently sipped their drinks as he talked about how hard she’d been working at Nell’s place, and how she even helped put up hay yesterday. But he didn’t tell them about holding her in his arms in the suffocating heat of the loft. He didn’t tell them about staring down into her emerald eyes and feeling himself losing control. He didn’t tell them how much he’d wanted to kiss her. Or how perfect she felt pressed up against him, completely vulnerable and oh, so tempting. How he’d somehow managed to step away from her. Or how she’d haunted his sleep last night, leaving him agitated and exhausted today.

  The porch was oddly silent. He and his friends had been through a lot together, had confessed many sins and shared combat experiences that would make a civilian toss their cookies in revulsion. But right now they looked as if they pitied him, and that was something he’d never seen in their eyes before.

  “What?” He barked the word at them, trying to deflect the awkward moment.

  Jerome spoke first. “Oh, man, you’re in deep, and you don’t even know it yet. I had that same expression when Pamela steamrolled into my life. I hated her long before I ever realized I loved her.”

  Pamela had been Jerome’s rehab nurse, and from day one she’d bullied and badgered him to snap out of his depression and get to work regaining his mobility. He’d complained bitterly at her and about her nonstop, right up until the day he knelt down on his good leg and asked her to marry him.

  Ramirez nodded. “You’re right, Jerome. He’s got that same tortured expression you wore for weeks on end.”

  “Shut up.” Cole ground the words out. They were being ridiculous. Sure, he was physically attracted to Bree, and he enjoyed their verbal sparring, but to think there might be something real there, when he wasn’t even sure she was real? Crazy. He stared out into the gathering darkness.

  Chris’s voice was low and quiet. “Didn’t some actress just get murdered by a stalker? What was her name?”

  “Nikki Fitzgerald,” Ramirez said. “It was all over the news. This sicko had been sending her love letters and flowers and junk like that; then he broke into her house and raped her before killing her and then himself. Anna...or Bree...is smart to lay low if she’s got a creep like that chasing her. They’re no joke.”

  Jerome nodded. “I’ve got a buddy who works security in LA. He told me stalkers are their biggest nightmare, because they’re so persistent and completely unpredictable.”

  Cole was silent. So that was the story with Nikki Fitzgerald. That was what Bree was trying to tell him when he was skeptical about her. God damn it. His hand gripped the glass of whiskey so tightly he was surprised it didn’t shatter. Some freak was out there hunting for Bree. And he’d accused her of lying about it to get attention. He was such an idiot.

  “You keep telling us what a diva she is,” Chris said, “but I sure didn’t see it. She’s the real deal, Cole. Why are you so determined to shove her into that Hollywood box you’ve put her into? There’s more to her than that. You’re just afraid to lift the lid.”

  Chris was right about one thing. Brianna Mathews scared the hell out of him. Chris laid his hand on Cole’s shoulder.

  “She said you didn’t know her, but it’s obvious even to me she wants you to. Maybe it’s time you tried.”

  He didn’t answer. The four men sat there in the dark, drinking whiskey and sharing an occasional quiet comment for another hour before Cole stood abruptly, sending his chair skittering backward.

  “You know where your rooms are, boys.” He started down the steps, ignoring the laughter behind him. It wasn’t the cottage he went to, even though he could see the living room light glowing softly. He knew Maggie was there with Bree. Instead he knocked on Nell’s door. She didn’t seem surprised to see him there at ten o’clock at night, weaving just a bit from his intake of alcohol. His feet shuffled for a minute, then he finally forced the words out.

  “I want to know more about Bree.”

  She nodded and stepped back. “Come on in. I’ll make you some coffee.”

  An hour later they were sitting at the kitchen table, staring into empty cups. His mind was swirling with all of the things Nell told him. Some had made him laugh, like her stories about Bree in the kitchen, trying to learn how to make a pecan braid. Some things weren’t funny at all, like the way she’d blamed her mother’s death on her father’s blue-collar income. But they painted a far more complete picture of Bree than he’d been willing to see before.

  He’d been a jackass with her unnecessarily. It wasn’t her fault that he was so messed up and afraid of letting anyone get close. He stood slowly and gave Nell a grim look.

  “I owe her an apology, don’t I?”

  She shrugged. “You’d know that better than I.”

  He nodded and turned away. He was all the way to the door when Nell spoke.

  “You know, Cole, that woman is the one for you.”

  “What?”

  He turned to face her, and Nell’s eyes bored into him.

  “She’s the one, Cole. She’s your one.”

  “Did you drink some of Randy Wardon’s moonshine when I wasn’t looking?” His hands gestured wildly to match the suddenly wild pounding of his heart. “Because that stuff can cause hallucinations, which is clearly what’s happening right now. You need to stop this matchmaking game, Nell, because Hollywood and I are not a couple and never will be.”

  She just chuckled, shaking her head.

  “Oh, I know you, boy. You’re going to deny it and fight it and fight her and do your best to blow it all up. But you mark my words, Colton Caldwell. She’s your one. When it’s all said and done, she’s the one who can save you. If you let her.”

  He stared at her, stupefied. “I value our friendship more than you’ll ever know. But you couldn’t be more wrong about this, and if you keep pushing the subject, you and I are going to have words.”

  “Fine. I won’t mention it again.” Her voice was serious, but her eyes were sparkling with amusement. “But that won’t make it any less true.”

  Something shuddered way down deep inside his chest. His mouth opened, but no words came out. What could he say to make Nell understand that no one could save him, especially not that stubborn redhead in the cottage next door? He turned away, slamming the door behind him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  BREE WAS STILL angry the next morning. She’d barely slept. She’d kicked off her covers and pulled them back up then kicked them off again. Maggie finally gave up and moved to the floor with a huff of irritation. Shortly after that, Bree gave up, too, and poured herself a cup of coffee in the dark hour before dawn. She curled up with her book but it didn’t help. Reading about Sir Haverly’s throbbing manhood was more agitating than romantic. She threw the book aside and walked outside at dawn, watching as Maggie jogged back to Cole’s house.

  The Jeep was still there, so the guys had stayed overnight. Bree liked Cole’s friends. They were funny and charming and kind. When Cole showed up and ruined everything, they’d trod the fine line of defending their friend while still comforting her.

  After that moment in the loft, she thought maybe something had shifted between them. If nothing else, perhaps a truce of sorts. But when Cole told her he thought they were a bad idea, he wasn’t kidding. In fact, he seemed determined to make that true by pushing her away at every opportunity. Yesterday he’d treated her with contempt. Not only that, but he did it publicly, in front of his own friends. If nothing else, that had
proven how little he thought of her and her feelings. She’d be a fool to give him another chance to crush her like that. She turned away from his lifeless home and vowed to put him out of her mind.

  By midmorning, it was raining. Nell had been fretting about how dry everything was, so Bree knew it was welcome. Nell was off to someone’s birthday dinner that afternoon, so she was on her own. She puttered around the cottage all day while the rain fell, baking an apple pie, then sliding a roast into the oven.

  After dinner she settled in to try to finish the silly romance novel once and for all. It rarely took her this long to read a book, but with all the work she’d been doing at Nell’s, most nights found her falling asleep on the sofa after reading just a few pages. Maggie’s arrival was the only thing that roused her enough to make it into bed every evening. Sure enough, when her phone started ringing at nine o’clock, it woke her from a sound sleep on the sofa. The book slid from her stomach to the floor as she reached for the phone.

  “Bree? Honey, can you come over? I can’t find that danged Trixie anywhere, and I’m afraid she’s off having that calf on her own.” Nell sounded out of breath.

  Bree sat up and started to pull on the tall rubber work boots Nell had loaned her, holding the phone between her cheek and shoulder. “Where are you, Nell? Did you call Cole?”

  “He’s not answering. I don’t see his truck or the Jeep at the house.” Nell was puffing now. “I’m up in the meadow. I walked up here when I got home to check on the herd after all the rain, and I can’t find her anywhere. Drive the truck up, will you?”

  “Of course,” Bree said. “I’m on my way.”

  It took her a few minutes to drive Nell’s truck through the gates and get to the top of the ridge. She spotted Nell waving wildly from the corner of the pasture. She brought the truck to a stop at the top of a knoll, with the headlights shining down on a muddy area where a lone cow was lying. Nell worked her way back down the rain-slicked slope to kneel at the Hereford’s broad white head. Bree jumped out of the truck and followed. Trixie’s eyes were closed and her ribs heaved with the strain.