Light My Fire (Man of the Month Book 11)

by J. Kenner

  She held his hand and they started in that direction. “You should tell Beverly we’re going to watch,” she added to Griffin.

  “I’m sure she’ll hear about it on her own.”

  “Okay. If you want to risk it.”

  She started to dance away, obviously amused with herself. He took her elbow and pulled her back. Parker’s brow went up. “I need her for a minute,” Griffin said.

  Parker met his eyes for a second, then nodded. His attention shifted back to Megan. “See you back there,” he leaned forward, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, then headed to the bar in the back.

  “You should talk to her.”

  Griffin fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I like her. I do. But it doesn’t matter. This isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Why not?”

  “Don’t play stupid, Megan. Not you.”

  “I might be naïve sometimes, but I’m not stupid. You don’t give yourself enough credit. Or Beverly for that matter.”

  Griffin wished that were true. But all he said was, “Go on. Parker’s waiting for you. I’m going to get a fresh drink.”

  She made a face, but continued on, and he hung back, ostensibly waiting to put in an order. In reality, he was watching Beverly as she congratulated Matthew on the stage, then thrust Matthew’s hand up in the style of a referee at the conclusion of a boxing match.

  As soon as she dropped his arm, Matthew pulled her into a hug, making her laugh and throw her arms around him in congratulations. Griffin watched, and that innocent, celebratory hug sent all kinds of possessive thoughts tumbling through his mind. Then Beverly led Matthew off the stage, essentially handing him over to the feminine hoard waiting for an autograph or a selfie with Mr. October.

  He turned away. It was all so ridiculous and campy, and yet he couldn’t deny that it was for a good cause, and he was damn proud of all his friends who’d walked that stage, many of whom had been anointed with a Man of the Month title and would soon be appearing in the upcoming Man of the Month calendar.

  So, yeah. Campy or not, he’d do it if he could. But who the hell would want his picture?

  Don’t go there, man. Just don’t go there.

  Those kinds of thoughts were for his characters, not for himself. He turned away from the stage as he forced himself to remember as much. To practice what he preached and shut down the pity party.

  He was about to signal to the bartender, Eric, when a light tap on his left shoulder startled him. He turned around to find Beverly behind him, standing close enough that he could smell the hint of vanilla in her perfume.

  Her smile lit up the room, but unlike when she’d been the emcee a few moments before, this smile was meant only for him. “Pretty cool for Matthew, huh? Although I never doubted he’d win. He’s definitely got a calendar guy look.”

  “That he does,” Griffin agreed. “He’d be a pretty poor advertisement for his business if he didn’t have the abs and pecs to go with it.”

  She laughed. “You’ve got a point. Of course, you’re not too bad yourself. You forget, I got a nice look at your back and biceps today.”

  “Beverly…”

  She held up a hand. “Don’t Beverly me.” An unfamiliar sharpness colored her voice. “I get it okay? But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re ripped.”

  She pressed her hand against his left bicep, then drew her hand up and over the muscled ridges of his shoulder. She started to slide her palm over his shoulder and onto his back, but the action forced her to step closer, so that now they were only inches apart, and he could feel her breath tickling his face.

  He took a sharp step backwards, the motion upsetting the barstool beside him. He felt like an idiot, but if she noticed, she didn’t show it.

  Instead, all she said was, “I know you work out at Matthew’s gym. I meet my trainer there twice a week, and I’ve seen you on more than one occasion.”

  “You have? I’ve never seen you.”

  “I see you coming and going across the gym. And you’re always wearing the hoodie with your head down. But I know it’s you.”

  He couldn’t believe he’d missed her.

  Her dark eyes flashed. “Look, I get why you wouldn’t want to stroll shirtless across that stage, but don’t stare at me like I’m insane when I say that you’ve got a nice build, okay? Facts are facts, right? And honestly, isn’t that why you’re working out?”

  That was part of it. The rest was because the exercise was supposed to increase the beneficial effects of the Devinger protocol, an experimental drug trial he’d been part of that was supposed to help his range of motion and repair some of his nerve endings. But that’s not what he told her. Instead, he met her eyes and said, “Nah. I only work out so beautiful women will notice me.”

  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking more like a shy teenager than a confident movie star. “Are you calling me beautiful?”

  He glanced down at the floor, then forced himself to meet her eyes. “Facts are facts.”

  Her cheeks turned pink, and she flashed that spectacular smile. He reached for her without thinking, his left hand going to her lower back as he led her to the smaller section in the rear of The Fix.

  During the Man of the Month contests, this was where the contestants waited for their turn. But the rest of the time, the space was used as a smaller bar. A place where customers could find a bit more quiet, especially if it was a night when a band was playing in the main area. It had a full bar, though smaller than the long, polished oak bar in the main room, and a few scattered tables where folks could gather.

  There was also a mounted flat screen television, and tonight all of the chairs had been turned to face it. He saw Brooke and Spencer right away, and Beverly broke away from his touch to hurry forward to say hello. He did the same, hurrying toward them to offer congratulations and waving to the other friends and regulars who’d crowded into the room to support Brooke, Spencer, and The Fix. And, of course, to watch the show.

  Several months ago, Brooke had landed a television deal for a program called The Business Plan, a six-episode real estate based reality show that highlighted the renovation of a business. The network had required that Spencer be part of the project since he already had a successful track record in reality TV. He agreed, and a series about the renovations at The Fix was born. As well as a romance between Brooke and Spencer.

  To add interest to the show, they decided to include snippets from all the Man of the Month contests, which was why even though renovations were complete, the show was still filming, and would wrap up with the Mr. December contest in just over a month.

  In the meantime, tonight’s premiere featured the The Fix, Mr. January, and Mr. February—Reece and Spencer respectively.

  Because the show was a big deal for The Fix, a lot of regulars were packed into the room, not to mention most of the staff. At first glance, Griffin found the massive form of Tyree, a huge black man with kind eyes and a deep voice. Beside him stood his fiancée Eva and their twenty-three year old daughter, Elena. Eva and Tyree were a story book romance. Separated for more than twenty years, they were finally back together, grabbing their happily ever after.

  Griffin was thrilled for them, and a little jealous, too. Hell, he was jealous of a lot of folks at the fix, Megan and Parker included. Along with Reece and Jenna and so many other couples. Everyone seemed to be pairing up, and yet he could only stand back and pine.

  Even his former intern, Mina, was happily living with her friend-turned-boyfriend, Cameron Reed.

  The same Cameron who was now signaling Griff from behind the bar, asking him if he wanted a bourbon.

  “You know me too well. Got any of Selma’s Bat Bourbon?” Matthew sister, Selma, owned a local distillery, and since bourbon was Griffin’s drink of choice, he was one of her best customers.

  “You got it.” He poured two shots, then slid the glass to Griffin. But it was intercepted by Mina, who flashed a mischievous grin, then ordered Cam to pour anothe
r.

  “I haven’t seen you for a couple of weeks,” she said to Griffin. “Where have you been hiding?”

  He shot a glance towards Cam. “I think you may be the one who’s hiding.”

  She buffed her nails on her shirt and hummed a bit. “Might be,” she admitted. “What can I say? I’ve got a hot boyfriend.”

  “Come on, you guys,” Megan called, waving the remote for the TV. “It’s starting.”

  Mina grabbed a seat at the bar with Cam standing behind her, but Griff headed toward the empty seat beside Beverly, his heart pounding like a teenager as he walked.

  “Hey,” she said, leaning toward him. “In a year, this will be us, sitting here about to watch our movie, right?”

  A chill ran through him, but whether that was because of the idea of the movie or because of the woman sitting next to him, he didn’t know. Fortunately, he didn’t have time to worry about that, because the show started, and the room burst into applause as Austin’s Sixth Street filled the screen and the camera zoomed in on the entrance of The Fix.

  The logo for The Business Plan came on, and Griff fell into watching the show. Seeing the way that Brooke and Spencer planned the remodel of The Fix. Watching as they worked together. And noticing the vibrant, palpable attraction that sparked between them on the screen.

  He thought of Beverly, working beside him as they revised the script, and as if his imagination had conjured her, suddenly she was there on the screen, introducing the contestants for the Mr. January contest. Reece won that month’s title, and when the camera pulled in to show him on stage, shirtless and covered with tats, everyone in the room applauded—and then broke into laughter and wolf whistles when the image of him faded out and his beefcake calendar shot replaced it.

  “Sexy!” Jenna called, then squealed when he swept her into his arms, bent her back, and kissed her passionately, his hand resting on the baby bump that was now prominent at about six months. Soon, Spencer’s win as Mr. February followed, and then the final credits rolled.

  “Terrific premier,” Tyree said, standing and holding his hand up for attention. “Not only did it show off Brooke and Spencer’s talents, but it makes this place look pretty damn good. And since I’m sure I’ll have them and their show to thank for another increase in customers starting tomorrow, I’m giving you all a round of drinks right now. On the house!”

  “There goes our profit sharing,” Brent Sinclair, a co-owner and the head of security for the bar, called from the doorway, setting off a fresh round of laughter.

  Beside Tyree, Elena joined in, then shifted her gaze to the floor when Brent winked at her. Griff turned to Beverly, wondering if she’d caught that interchange, and apparently she had, because she lifted her brows and mouthed, maybe.

  Maybe, indeed.

  And that was one more stitch in his ever-increasing tapestry of envy. Because like it or not, he needed to face up to the fact that he wanted to be the guy with the maybe.

  And no maybe about it. Beverly was the woman he wanted.

  Too bad he still couldn’t make himself believe that he could have her.

  She was so much at the forefront of his mind, that he actually jumped when she took his left hadn’t and tugged him to his feet. “Hey, everybody! Griffin and I have news, too. Can we share with y’all and join the celebration?”

  “You’re engaged!” Selma yelled, then immediately said, “What?” when Easton, her boyfriend and a local lawyer, nudged her into silence. “They’re together all the time.”

  Beside Griffin, Beverly’s cheeks turned an appealing shade of pink, but she kept her cool and said, “Not that kind of news. This is more in theme with tonight and the show. You want to tell them?” she asked him, but he shook his head. “Fine. Because I’m about to explode with it. Apex Studios bought Griffin’s script. We’re working on some revisions, and then—unless things go to utter shit, which can totally happen in Hollywood—we’ll start filming next year.”

  “That’s amazing!” Jenna bounded forward and wrapped Beverly in a hug. Griffin knew that they hadn’t known each other until Beverly applied for the job of emcee, but after spending so many months working together, they’d become good friends.

  Everyone else offered their congratulations, too, and the room exploded into excited chatter and well-wishes, especially from Brooke and Spencer. “You’ve been down this road,” Brooke said to Beverly, “but Griff’s going to be new to the spotlight.”

  “I’m just the writer,” he said, fighting a sudden, sick feeling in his stomach. “They won’t be interested in me. I’ve hardly done any press for the web series or the podcast except a few written interviews.”

  Spencer met his eyes. “If this picture is going to be as big as they expect, you’ll get some of the shine, too.” He frowned slightly, stroking his beard. “You need to be prepared, buddy.”

  “It’s okay,” Beverly intervened, once again casually taking his left hand. “It can mostly be avoided. But Spencer’s right. There’s going to be press. We just need to make sure we have a plan.”

  “Great. Right. A plan.” Griffin forced a smile, trying to act nonchalant. Of course, this had been on the horizon. He knew that. Hell, he should have been planning already.

  But he hadn’t been. And he couldn’t help but resent that the harsh reality of his condition had once again stolen a piece of his joy.

  Chapter Five

  “You have to say yes,” Beverly said the moment Griffin opened the door Thursday afternoon.

  “I do?” He leaned casually against the doorframe. “Color me nervous.”

  “Very funny.” She reached out, then put her hand on his shoulder to push him back and was gratified to see that he didn’t flinch. On the contrary, he followed her lead, stepped back, and let her enter. Of course, she’d pushed against his left shoulder, not his right. But still, she considered it progress.

  “So what am I agreeing to? Because I’ll tell you right now, skydiving is out of the question.”

  “Noted.” She plunked the massive Louis Vuitton tote bag she used as a purse onto the small table in the entrance hall, then started to rummage around inside. “I know we should dive straight into revisions, but look what I have. Ta-da!” she said, as she pulled out a hot-off-the-press DVD of Crypto Games. “Movie night?”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve been dying to see it. But it’s only two. Should we work first and then watch?”

  “Hell, no. I want to see it now. Chris promised he’d send me a copy before I head to LA on Saturday for the premiere, and I just got this. And we can work afterwards. We’ll be inspired. I love this movie, but we need to show Chris that we can be even better.”

  “Sounds good to me. I live to impress Christopher Deaver.”

  She rolled her eyes and gathered her things, pleased that he was down for this plan. She’d been afraid that he saw their relationship only as work, and even though they’d talked about watching the DVD, she’d wondered if he was going to suggest that they wait until an evening when they could invite a dozen or so friends to join them.

  “There’s just one hitch,” he said. “I have a tiny house.”

  “I don’t take up that much room.”

  “Yeah, well, in case you hadn’t noticed, there’s no TV in the living room.”

  “Oh.” She hadn’t noticed. “If you don’t have a television, that’s okay. We can go to my house. Or we can just pop the DVD into your computer.”

  “Or we can watch it on my sixty-four inch high def television. The one that takes up pretty much an entire wall of my bedroom. Which has no furniture except a bed, a dresser, and two side tables.”

  She called upon all of her acting skill and managed to not react one tiny bit. “Works for me,” she said. And then, because she couldn’t resist teasing him. “Just wait until after the movie if you’re going to ravage me. I hate getting interrupted during a film.”

  For the space of an instant, he said nothing, and she feared that she’d put her foot in her m
outh, and he was going to conveniently have a forgotten conflict that kept them from watching the film at all, much less on a bed.

  But then his lips twitched, and he met her gaze dead-on and said. “No problem. I’ll set a timer.”

  Delighted as much by the quip as by the fact that he was joking about sex, she burst out laughing. “Fabulous. Now come on. Let’s get set up. We can have popcorn, right? You don’t have some weird no popcorn in bed rule, do you?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of making my bed a no popcorn zone.”

  “Good. So, you set up the DVD, and I’ll go make it.” She’d done it before. Popcorn was her dietary weakness, and sometimes when they were working, she’d crave a batch. Usually without butter, which drove Griffin nuts. Tonight, she’d butter it. Just for him.

  “We’re ready,” he said a few moments later, coming into the kitchen and talking over the loud popping of the old-fashioned popcorn maker with the clear yellow lid that doubled as a bowl. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Pass me the butter from the microwave. And then I’m thinking wine. It’s not everyday a girl gets a copy of a movie she starred in.”

  “True that. But will we get any work done later?”

  “Possibly, no. Is that a problem?” She tilted her head and propped her hand on her hip.

  “We’ll make it work,” he said, and she forced herself not to do a victory lap around the kitchen island. She had no idea if this was a sign of a growing friendship, if there was romance on his mind, or if he’d simply turned a corner and was super comfortable with her around. Frankly, she didn’t care, although she was hoping for romance.

  No matter what, it was an improvement.

  They gathered up their things, headed into the bedroom, and as soon as they were settled, Griffin pushed the button to play the movie. At first, Beverly was hypersensitive, and not just because he was beside her and she was noticing every move, every shift, every breath. But also because she was on the screen, and she wanted desperately for him to like her work.

  Soon enough, though, she became lost in the movie, enjoying both the wine and the popcorn, not to mention the nice little buzz she was getting.