“I’m glad I’m unique.”
Only Finn could smile in such a way as to make a statement like that sound charming instead of completely worthy of smacking him. Oddly, it took the heat out of her anger. They were never going to fight this out to a solution, but at least she’d said it all.
She laughed quietly. “You know, in a way, so am I.”
“What does that mean?”
“Honestly … I don’t really know.” There weren’t words to describe it. “I like you, Finn. Even after all we’ve been through, you’re just impossible not to like. I’m not sure I like me, though, when I’m with you. So it’s a conundrum. And one that I think is best served by us staying away from each other.” She swept the crumbs from her sandwich off the table and stood.
“Hey, Cait?”
She turned.
“You want to know what I remember about that trip to Baja?”
There was a deep purr in his voice that sent shivers over her skin in defiance of the heat, and the light in his eyes made her heart stutter. She swallowed hard. Thinking about Baja made her chest hurt. It encapsulated their entire relationship. For three days she’d been lost in Finn, not knowing that her life was in flames back home—and not caring to check, either. She’d decided she was in love, but that feeling had crashed into reality and she still remembered the gut-punch waiting for her. They’d rehashed enough of their past to know there would be no catharsis waiting on the other side of this topic.
“Not really.”
The look on Finn’s face called her a liar without him having to say a word. “The Cait that ran off to Baja on a moment’s notice wasn’t living her life looking over her shoulder or muttering disapprovingly. She wanted to see and do and experience it all. And she wasn’t afraid of anything. That Cait was incredible. Do you ever miss her?”
That cut close to the bone, and, damn it, she had the distinct feeling he knew it, too, and had done it on purpose. She felt like a fraud, as if she’d been lying to herself with her new attitude and Finn had stripped it away to uncover the truth under it. Not only had he proved he did still know her with that one statement, but she was surprised to find out the urge was still very much there, if buried slightly under the ash of old burns.
Perception shapes reality. She just had to make sure her perceptions didn’t backslide and ruin the reality she was creating for herself now.
She took a deep breath. “Finn, as delightful as these little trips down memory lane are, they’re really not … pertinent to the here and now. And I’d like to stay focused on now and move forward from here.”
“Then quit worrying so much about the past. Let it go. It doesn’t matter now.”
“Easy for you to say. I envy that ability of yours sometimes, but I actually care about things beyond my next good time.”
“And you think I don’t?”
“I know you don’t.”
There was that look again. The one she couldn’t decipher logically enough to judge his reaction to her words. She felt a little bad; her words had been harsh. But how dare he try to downplay everything and forget it with one of his famous and annoying shrugs?
The silence spun out and Caitlyn couldn’t figure out what she should—or could—say next. Retreat seemed the safest—if cowardly—option. “I’m going to Makeup now. Bye.”
Behind her back, she thought she might have heard Finn laugh quietly.
CHAPTER SIX
CAIT’S ponytail swished against her back as she walked away. He shouldn’t spar with her. She was right: it was unprofessional, and not only unnecessary to their working relationship but probably harmful as well. He should just stay the hell away from her, but for reasons he couldn’t even begin to understand he couldn’t. She’d ignored him for days—which had only nagged at his need to call her on it—but this wasn’t exactly where he’d thought they’d end up when he had opened the discussion.
Their conversation had cleared up a lot, but it had raised far more issues, and Cait was insane if she thought she could dump all that out there and then just walk off. He’d been unjustly tried and convicted, and for the first time ever that bothered him.
Plus, he was reeling from the way Cait had almost casually mentioned that she’d been in love with him back then. He doubted she really realized what she’d said, but it had slammed into him with unexpected force. It forced him re-evaluate a few things.
They had unfinished business. She might want to pretend that fact didn’t exist, but he wasn’t playing that game. He was self-aware enough to know she’d dented his ego three years ago, and that might be fueling it some, but he was honest enough to admit that being around her had lit a fire that just couldn’t be ignored.
That in itself was unusual, as he’d never had any desire to go back to a woman once things were over. Why did Cait alone have that effect on him? Cait had called him a drug, and at the moment he felt a bit like an addict who’d been given a reminder of what he’d given up and now the craving was consuming him.
And, like a junkie, he was not going to be able to resist.
That was why she was avoiding him—that much was clear now. She, too, was fighting that pull instead of just letting it play out the way it should.
Cait might try to talk a good game, but he’d seen the look on her face when he’d mentioned Baja. She’d given herself a part to play—Caitlyn Reese, Serious Actress and Reformed Sinner—but underneath … Oh, it was still there. She’d just let the pressure and the shame try to force her to be something else. He understood the reaction, but Cait was taking it to new extremes.
And he was just ornery enough to force her to break character and face that fact. It would make things easier in the long run if they got past all of this. She wasn’t going to like it, though.
Speaking of things Cait wasn’t going to like … He looked at his watch. He needed to be in Wardrobe in ten minutes. Cait was in for one hell of a surprise, and he didn’t want to miss a second of it.
An hour later, he wasn’t sure he’d made the right choice. Oh, he was forcing her to face facts, but it wasn’t going as expected.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Cait shot the assistant director a look so dripping with venom that Chris actually backed up a step.
“Caitlyn, honey, what’s the problem?”
Finn adjusted the tie of his Army uniform and grinned. “Yeah, Cait, what is the problem? I’ve got a SAG card, so I can both act and produce. It’s all legit.”
She barely acknowledged he’d spoken, and he could see her fighting to find words that wouldn’t come across as ridiculous.
She addressed her question to Chris only. “When did this become amateur hour?”
Chris pulled Cait aside, but Finn could still hear their conversation clearly.
“It’s a bit part, and Finn’s done this before. I promise you won’t have to carry him. He’ll make you look good.”
Chris thought this was a professional objection, but Finn knew it was personal. He could tell she was torn between acting like a diva or just sucking it up.
“You’re trying to tell me there’s no one else to do this?”
“This isn’t L.A., or even New York. We don’t exactly have a wide variety of actors just roaming through the woods in the hopes they’ll come across a film set.”
“Fine.”
Cait adjusted the belt on a dress that made her waist look impossibly tiny. She took a deep breath that nearly caused her breasts to pop the buttons off her blouse. These WWII-era fashions were definitely growing on him. Well, the female fashions, at least. Cait looked fantastic, but his uniform was a bit over-starched. “Let’s just do this,” she groused. “It’s been a very long day already.”
As she walked away, Chris turned to him. “Caitlyn’s usually so easy to work with. She just must be tired or something. I doubt it’s personal …” Chris seemed to catch himself as he put two and two together. “Although maybe it is.”
“Oh, I’m sure of it.” He grabbed hi
s hat and moved to his place.
He and Cait were pretty much live scenery for most of this scene. One of many couples dancing and chatting in the background while Jason and Naomi had their big emotional thing in the foreground.
Cait took her place across from him at one of the small tables in the pavilion. It was set up festively, like an outdoor party, with candles on the tables and paper lanterns hanging from the exposed beams. A swing band was set up on the other side of a dance floor, and extras milled about.
She kept her voice low. “What? You think you’re Alfred Hitchcock now? Making little cameos in your movies?”
“Hitchcock was a director.”
“I know that,” she snapped. “It makes it even more egocentric to cast yourself in a movie when you’re just the producer.”
“Just the producer? What happened to how hard-working and professional I am?”
Cait bit her lip. He assumed she hadn’t realized he’d seen her little interview already.
“That was before I knew you were vain enough to do this.”
“It’s not vanity. This is a present for my grandfather.”
“You couldn’t get him a tie or something?”
“The man has everything already. Except a movie.”
After a brief frown, Cait ignored him while they did the light check, but she definitely wasn’t happy. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed this. If her anger was going to affect her performance …
He shouldn’t have worried. When Cait opened her eyes the anger was gone, proving once again she was a pro. As the cues came, she leaned in and propped her chin on her fist. A small flirtatious smile played over her lips and his body hardened. She’s only acting. But, damn, she was good.
“We’re supposed to be talking and flirting, remember? I thought you’d decided you were an actor now.”
Her voice was barely above a whisper—just enough for him to hear without creating additional noise on the set—but the challenge was there in her words and in her eyes.
He could never resist a challenge.
He leaned forward as well, letting his eyes rake over her. “I don’t even have to act. I’ve been wanting to tell you for days how beautiful you are. I didn’t think you could get more beautiful, but you did.”
Cait’s eyes widened and her lips parted in shock.
“It’s so hard not to kiss you and see if you taste as good as you look. If it’s as good as I remember.” Taking hold of her hand, he let his thumb trace over the soft skin of her wrist. “Your skin … it was always so soft, so smooth under my hands, my tongue. And you loved being touched almost as much as I loved touching you.” He felt her pulse jump, and her tongue rubbed over her bottom lip.
He was growing hard, uncomfortably so, and Cait was in real danger if she didn’t stop looking at him like that. Her smile was frozen in place, but the heat in her eyes scorched him. This had turned into something far more dangerous than he’d predicted.
He pulled himself together forcefully. Leaning a little bit closer, he whispered, “How’s that for acting?”
Cait’s façade slipped the tiniest bit, but only someone paying close attention would have noticed. She swallowed hard, and the heat in her gaze faded to something else. She slid her wrist out of his hand and traced her finger over the rim of her glass instead. “Pretty average, actually.”
He’d give her credit for a quick recovery—especially since he was having such a hard time doing the same. “You’re a hard woman, Cait.”
“And you’re a—”
“Cut!”
Cait smirked, but kept silent as the crew quickly reset for a second take. When the cue came, Cait leaned in again. “You’re supposed to be flirting with me, not trying to seduce me.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Of course. Flirting is a game. It’s about the thrill of the chase. Seduction focuses solely on results.”
Her scolding words were at odds with the flirtatious look on her face. It bordered on confusing. Although he knew she was playing to the cameras, there was something genuine as well. Like the smile she’d worn the other night … He remembered the reality too well to believe it was all an act.
“You don’t play games, Cait. It’s not in your nature. You look for the genuine. That’s part of your charm.”
She batted her eyelashes and gave him a sly smile. “I have charm?”
“Oh, definitely. That’s why I’m trying to seduce you.”
She faltered before she cut her eyes at him. “But I’m Rebecca right now, not Caitlyn. And you’re not the hero of this story, so you don’t get to seduce the girl.”
The pressure against his zipper bordered on painful now, and Finn silently admitted the full truth he’d been denying. He wanted her. Badly. Their attraction had always been intensely physical, and his body was remembering that with a vengeance. It was only his big brain that continued to fight it. Coupled with the way Cait kept eyeballing him like a tasty treat … She was damn lucky there were two dozen people standing around and the cameras were rolling.
Of course maybe that was why she thought she could get away with it. She wanted the game? The thrill of the chase? Fine.
Game on, Cait.
Tugging at the collar of his uniform, he reminded her, “But I’m going off to war. I may never know the love of a woman again. You’d deny me one last touch? A taste? A sweet memory to take to battle with me?”
She swallowed hard. “Been there, done that.”
He let his eyes roam over her again until she started to blush. “Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, then, you don’t need—”
“My question is …” He waited until her eyes met his again. “Do you?”
Cait looked away, but not before he saw her unguarded reaction. She did. That much was clear. And, for all her prim talk, the memory was a good one. Oh, Caity, he thought, you forgot that I always play to win.
Damn Finn. What the hell kind of game was he playing? “Torture Caitlyn” seemed an obvious answer, and he was doing a damn fine job of it.
Finn seemed to be waiting, and Caitlyn scrambled to find the proper words—or even the proper tone.
Because she remembered, all right. Hell, she couldn’t seem to remember anything else these days.
“Well …” she hedged, only to be saved, once again, by the wonderful sound of the word, “Cut!”
Finn grinned, seemingly aware of her relief that she didn’t have to answer right now.
Caitlyn looked away, unable to keep eye contact, only to meet Naomi’s killing glare. So Naomi was feeling a little possessive of Finn? That possessiveness didn’t sit well with Caitlyn, but she refused to examine it. Their next scene together was going to be fun. Naomi wouldn’t have to dig too deep to find her motivation. In fact, Caitlyn wouldn’t be surprised if Naomi “accidentally” slapped her for real.
With the cameras reset and rolling, she had to turn her attention back to Finn. “Naomi is not happy.”
“She never is.”
She happened to agree, but to do so aloud would be catty. “Then why do you put up with her?”
“Because I have to be nice to the talent.”
“I meant off the set.” She stirred the drink in front of her.
“Because I, too, am a team player.”
It was hard to keep a smile on her face for the camera with their conversation taking such strange turns, but she was having a hard time separating what parts of the conversations were real and which ones weren’t. Finn didn’t seem to be having that problem. While he’d given her looks that practically melted her insides, he was doing an admirable job of pasting a camera-perfect smile across his face as well.
“What?”
“What what? She’s vain and needy, but I hold up my end of the deal, same as you.”
Now she was totally lost. “As me?”
“How do you put up with Jason’s vanity and neediness—not to mention his stupidity?”
“By limiting exposure.�
��
“Same here.”
It was difficult not to react to that statement. “Lord, Finn, I know you’ve perfected the art of not giving a damn, but that’s really … slimy, actually.”
He actually looked insulted. He quickly reschooled his face, though. “What do you mean by that?”
“Naomi’s not my favorite person, but it’s unfair to use her like that. She seems to care for you, and it’s wrong for you to lead her on like that when you don’t care for her.” And I would know.
He had the nerve to laugh at her. “You think I’m sleeping with Naomi?”
“Aren’t you?”
“God, no. My ‘relationship’ with Naomi is no different than your relationship with Jason.”
Why did that make a little happy bubble inflate in her chest? “Then I owe you an apology. But I still have to say that I don’t think she knows that. In fact, if looks could kill I’d be dead on the floor right now.”
There was that shrug again. “Oh, she knows it. It’s just her irrational jealousy of you in general that’s drawing the killing looks.”
She’d adjusted—well, almost—to the idea of Finn and Naomi, so the paradigm shift took a minute to process. She didn’t realize Walter had called “cut” until the camera moved closer to her and Finn to get close-ups and cutaways. The pensive looks were easy to do; Lord knew she had enough on her mind to ponder. The smiley and giggly ones were a bit harder, and when they asked Finn to take her hand again for some close-ups her insides got wobbly. Eventually Walter was satisfied, and she sent up a sigh of thanks.
Caitlyn had never felt so off-kilter during a shoot before. Between the death stares from Naomi, the sly smiles from Finn and the confused looks of the crew when she was a second too slow picking up on instructions … Ugh. She needed to get a hold of herself. Quickly. The sooner this scene was over, the better. She closed her eyes and searched for her center.
When she was called to her next mark, what little focus she’d found seemed to slither away. She’d rehearsed this scene with an extra, and normally it would be a piece of cake. They were supposed to dance—well, sway, at least—until Jason’s character got jealous enough to pull her away. A hysterical laugh caught in her throat. It was almost ridiculous, considering their past, the fiasco in D.C. that night, and the current supposed love-tangle between Finn, Jason, Naomi and her.
Redemption of a Hollywood Starlet Page 8
