Undone

by Kayla, Mia

  He held both of my hands in his. “Seriously, Tene. I haven’t done this in a long time.”

  I concentrated on him, our intertwined hands, his open honesty to keep me steady and prevent me from freaking out. “I haven’t done this in a long time, either.”

  I’d built a cage, a wall of false confidence around me. It was in everything I did, the way I walked, in how I handled business. My outward appearance protected me from hurt. Only very few people had the key to this cage I’d built because the more people I let in, the more vulnerable I became. I had never liked feeling out of control. But as I searched his face for any indication that he was kidding, I saw none.

  I cupped the side of his face, and the fluttering in my stomach turned into a flock of butterflies. “Yes. Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.” There, I said it. Cheesy and corny but the truth.

  He bent down and closed the gap between us in a soul-crushing kiss I felt to my toes.

  “And now, you can take me on the kitchen counter,” I said, lips meshed together.

  I pulled at his boxers and inched backward, my come-hither smile planted on my face, but he swatted my butt and tipped his head toward the stove where the bacon and eggs and pancakes were probably cold.

  “Go eat first.”

  I pouted while he took our food to the kitchen table, but when the first bite of bacon filled my mouth, I forgave him.

  Good-looking, great cook, master in the bedroom, and he has a job. I sighed.

  Jordan took out some papers and laid them out in front of him, stuffing forkfuls of eggs in his mouth. I could watch him eat forever. It would be my new pastime.

  “Production starts tomorrow, which is going to be a little nuts. When word gets around, and the trailers and production crew start filling the streets of downtown Rosendell, it’s going to be little Hollywood here.”

  I clasped my hands together and bounced in my seat. “It’s going to be crazy and great for the businesses downtown.”

  “Now that we’re together, your life is going to be more of a circus,” he warned. “You’re never going to be alone.” He placed his hand on top of mine, his thumb brushing over the top of my wrist. “Paps are going to follow you everywhere. But if it’s okay with you …” For once, he looked sheepish. “… I don’t want to keep us a secret. I don’t want to talk about us to the press either, but if I want to go out with my girlfriend, I will.” He leaned in, his eyes almost pleading. “You’re okay with that, right? With the chaos that will come when people find out?”

  I flipped my hair over my shoulder. “Have you seen me? I thrive on being the center of attention. That’s how it is in our family. If there’s anyone who can handle being your girlfriend, it’s moi.” I pointed a thumb to my chest.

  Jordan tipped up my chin, amused. “I’m glad you’re up for the task.”

  Then, he pressed a kiss to my lips, and I melted all over again.

  Chapter 22

  The publicity of Jordan’s filming in town intensified. The papers and local televisions were covering it as though it was world-breaking news. And to our small town of Rosendell, this was world-breaking news.

  Everyone was excited, except for most of my family. Dad was simply annoyed, Mom hated the attention, and at times, Angie would have little anxiety attacks at the photographers being too close for comfort. Me? I loved it—the attention it was giving our small town, the energy that filled the air.

  The chaos of work only allowed me to see Jordan in the evenings, and I hadn’t stepped onto the set since that very first day.

  My hands pressed down my skirt suit as my heels clip-clopped against the sidewalk. The closer the barricade of fans came into view, the faster my pulse ticked against the inside of my wrist.

  The atmosphere was different than the day before. More people. More chaos. More security.

  Guards were everywhere, and Jordan’s detail had doubled to four. I’d asked him what the latest news was on his stalker, but all he could tell me was that everything was fine, and she hadn’t been spotted in the vicinity.

  The closer I came to Wells, the louder the roar of the crowd became. The screaming of his adoring fans drowned out all the thoughts in my head. Women, teenagers, and even a few ladies who looked to be about Nana’s age had Jordan signs and posters of his last movie as they stood behind the barrier, screaming, waiting, basically panting.

  A broader male, security detail from the day before, recognized me, and when I lifted a pass that was hanging around my neck, he walked through the crowd and ushered me past the barricade and straight to Jordan’s trailer in the alleyway.

  Having this street blocked was a disruption to the normal morning rush, but my surrounding tenants didn’t mind because they were all benefiting monetarily from the filming. Their clientele was up, everyone visiting the next-door coffee, doughnut, and book shop just to see if they could get a glimpse of the infamous Jordan Ryder.

  I stepped up into the trailer and was blasted with the bright lights on top of a mirror that spanned one entire wall. Jordan’s eyes were closed while the thin, tall blonde with a pixie cut airbrushed his face. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, and if I didn’t know any better, I would think he was sleeping.

  “Hello,” I said as the door shut behind me.

  “Baby,” Jordan cooed. His eyes remained closed, but he motioned me forward with his hands. “Jenny, Christene. And that’s Susie, the best PA in the whole fucking universe. This is the girlfriend.”

  I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of hearing those words. My fingers met his outreached hand, and he brought it to his lips.

  “Your makeup,” Jenny, the artist, snapped. “I just airbrushed your lips.”

  Susie stuck out her free hand to shake mine. “Hi, Christene,” she said in a cheery voice to match her cheery personality and bright red hair.

  Susie looked no more than twenty, dressed in boyfriend jeans and a white T-shirt tied to the side. She had two coffees in a coffee container and a box of doughnuts resting on her arm. Her earpiece was slung around her earlobe, no doubt to bend to Jordan’s every command.

  “I have an extra cup of coffee here if you want it.”

  I grabbed one of the cups from her container and opened the top, watching the steam rise before taking a careful sip. “Thank you.” The coffee was hot, and it warmed the back of my throat as I swallowed.

  “I have to bring this one to Ryan. Tootles! Jay, be out on the set in thirty. And if I come back here to get your butt, it won’t be pretty.” She waved at me and practically skipped out the door.

  “Jay? I kinda like that.” I sat on the couch opposite his makeup chair, taking another slow sip of my coffee. “She’s a spunky one.”

  “You can say that again. Half the time, I think she’s on blow because she’s got so much energy. But she’s organized and timely, and she keeps me in check.”

  “Stop talking,” Jenny ordered. She continued to use the machine to airbrush his face.

  I watched in awe as she evenly covered every inch of skin, his neck, and then his arms and hands with the stroke of the brush. Jenny marred his cheek with fake skin, dried blood. She had darkened some of his body with a purplish-blue tint to highlight his bruises.

  For a moment, I had to tell myself he was safe, that it wasn’t real. The makeup was all for show, but it was eerily believable.

  They were filming a dire hostage-takeover situation at the restaurant, and Jordan looked like collateral damage. I wanted to go over there and bandage him up and kiss all his scars and make him feel better but without the audience.

  Twenty minutes later, when Jenny was done, she tipped her head in approval and proceeded to put away her high-end makeup sprawled out on the counter. I swear Jordan was sleeping. His eyes remained closed, his breathing slow and steady.

  “Wake up!” Jenny roared.

  I laughed when Jordan jumped from his seat, eyes open.

  Then, in a softer tone, she said, “You have to be on the set in five
.” She smiled at me. “No kissing or other things that could get in the way of his face, please.” Then, she turned her attention back toward him, her smile disappearing. “Don’t make me redo your makeup, Jordan, or I’ll be thoroughly pissed, given that I spent hours on you.”

  He waved a hand and pointed toward the exit. “I don’t have to use my face to do what I want to do. Now, go get your second cup of coffee. You’re much better when you’ve had caffeine.”

  Jenny threw him the middle finger and strolled out the door.

  “Everyone is in a mood,” I said.

  “Well, everyone—me, included—has been here since five a.m.”

  I frowned. “I know. I missed you when I woke up this morning.”

  He motioned for me to come over, and I complied. When I was within reaching distance, he gripped my hand and pulled me onto his lap, snuggling closer.

  “Your makeup,” I scolded.

  Jenny seemed nice enough, but I certainly didn’t want to be blamed. My fingers lightly etched the broken skin at his temple.

  “I know. I won’t mess it up. I’m just going to hold you.”

  “Yeah, while your erection is poking me in the ass.” I laughed.

  He shrugged as if his boner weren’t poking into my butt.

  His hands slid up and down my thigh, sending a direct shock down my spine.

  “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” I said, pushing my ass against him and rotating my hips, taunting, teasing, tormenting.

  Now, he’d be walking on the set with a hard-on. It would be hilarious to see him execute his fight scenes with a big-ass boner the size of Mt. Olympus.

  “I have five minutes. I can make you come in two.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a promise of success.

  I touched his chin, where the fake flesh depicted busted-open skin. “Your imperfectly perfect face.” I pouted.

  He took my palm and kissed the inside of my wrist. “You know what I was thinking?”

  “What?”

  “We’ve got to tell Cade and Angie about us soon, about us being together. It’s been days, and I hate keeping this from them.”

  He was right. Over these past few days, I’d been trying to answer Angie’s questions without lying because I hated liars, had been burned by one and didn’t want to turn into one. It was exhausting, skating around the truth to my best friend, my sister, day in and day out. I ended up sending all her calls to voice mail.

  I exhaled a breath full of worry and anxiety because telling them would mean telling my mom. And she had specifically ordered me not to complicate my sister’s relationship. If Jordan and I didn’t work out, that would be a big complication. My stomach turned at the thought.

  One day at a time, Tene. I had to take this new relationship one day at a time.

  “Fine.” I sighed, giving him a pointed stare. “Let’s tell them, but it’s your balls, not mine.”

  He laughed. “He didn’t think I’d be using my balls with you again after you told Angie, who told him that I had problems performing in the bedroom.”

  The annoyance of Angie spilling her beans rose my irk meter to a ten. That had been between us, something sacred between sisters. What was the point of telling your sister something in secrecy if she didn’t keep her trap shut?

  “It wasn’t you or us … I was too much in my head at that moment. Your Candice tattoo … Cade.” I shook my head and bit my lip for spilling my guts to this man. Great, just great. I’d just revealed that Cade was basically on my mind while I was riding him like I was at a rodeo.

  Just when he opened his mouth to speak, Susie popped her head inside.

  “Hey, hey, hey, Jay-Jay, what did I say? On the set.” She snapped her fingers. “Quick, quick, quick. Hanky-panky later.” She waited expectedly, impatiently.

  I placed my fingers on his lips. “I’ve gotta go anyway.”

  His eyebrows rose. “We’re not done talking.”

  “I know,” I said. “Want to meet up after your shoot?”

  He placed a chaste kiss on my lips, totally breaking make-up protocol. “Yes. Plus, Wyatt’s in town again. But can’t you watch me in action for a little bit?” He wiggled his eyebrows, playing for cute.

  I rolled my eyes with exaggeration. “Fine. I guess if I have to.” I hopped off him, still aware that his boner was saluting at attention.

  He groaned when he stood.

  Susie blushed when she noticed, coughed, and turned away from the door. “Don’t make Alex come and get you. Better me than him.”

  “The director,” Jordan answered my silent question, all the while peering down at his boner. “Are you going to take care of this real quick?”

  I made my way to the door, grinning naughtily. “Why don’t you let Alex take care of that?”

  He shook his head in disappointment. “You’re terrible to your new boyfriend.”

  He strolled out, limping, while I half-skipped to the set, ready to see my new boyfriend in action.

  * * *

  I left during the second set and decided to go home after the trying day I’d had at Armstrong Realty.

  I walked to my car, the breeze hitting my bare legs. There was a tiny skip to my step, a lightness in my heart, and I knew it had everything to do with Jordan Ryder and the anticipation of seeing him tonight after he was done filming.

  I had it bad.

  When I slipped into my car, I was still on cloud a million and nine. My smile could not be dimmed. I opened the visor mirror to check my makeup, and a little white piece of paper dropped into my lap.

  It was folded in half.

  I opened it, and three words had ice pumping through my body and the world around me halting to a stop. My clammy fingers shook as I read the note, slower the second time.

  Leave him alone.

  Immediately, I dropped the paper in my lap like a fire had torched my fingertips. My head jerked up, and I scanned the area around me. My heartbeat thrashed in my ears, and my hand flew to the lock on my door.

  There was a woman walking her dog down the street. A couple on a work break, carrying their briefcases. Media and fans stood by the barricade. She could be anywhere.

  His stalker.

  She had been here.

  In my car.

  It could only have been her.

  Nothing usually shook me. On the outside, I might seem delicate, all woman, someone who didn’t want to break a nail, but that was when the saying, Looks can be deceiving, came into play.

  It took me ten seconds to get it together. The sun was shining brightly through my windshield. It was the middle of the afternoon. People were everywhere. Nothing could happen in broad daylight, right?

  I stepped out of the car, and my eyes perused the area more closely. I studied every passing man, woman, and child, memorizing their features. I lifted the piece of paper in plain view for the culprit to see if she was truly watching me. Courage stiffened my shoulders.

  You leave him alone.

  Game on!

  I reminded myself that this woman had a restraining order against her, and if she was in the vicinity of Jordan, she could very possibly go to jail and soon.

  Instead of getting back in the car, I did the opposite of what the white piece of paper had instructed. I walked straight back into Wells to watch Jordan finish filming. Work could wait. I didn’t have any appointments I couldn’t cancel. I’d make sure he was safe and tell him what had happened in person.

  I wasn’t afraid for my safety. I was afraid for him.

  Chapter 23

  Filming ended at eleven thirty in the evening.

  “Bright and early tomorrow morning,” Alex yelled out to all crew members.

  My legs itched; my body ironically wired from the long day of doing absolutely nothing but sitting. I took note of everyone in the room, the stuntmen and extras with their gear and guns. Anyone in here could’ve written that note too. Maybe he had more than one stalker. But he had bodyguards. Dex and Larry followed Jordan everywhere. I w
ouldn’t be surprised if one whipped out his dick and the other helped him take a piss.

  I waited while Jordan said bye and chatted up the production director, the lighting crew, the camera guys, and practically everyone else on set.

  I waited until it was just the two of us because I didn’t know who was involved.

  After a few minutes, he finally approached. “Sorry, babe.”

  He kissed my lips and grabbed my hand before jetting us through the back door. A few fans stood outside behind the yellow barrier.

  He released me and stopped to sign some autographs. I stood back and took in the scene. When he bent down to take a picture with a shorter woman who reminded me of Nana, I stiffened. Anybody could be the culprit. Even though someone looked innocent, they could very well be hiding a weapon—a knife, a gun. My shoulders tensed.

  “Jordan!” they shouted.

  The crowd grew bigger—getting louder, booming.

  “We love you, Jordan!”

  He was adored by so many, loved by the majority of the female population. And in the craziest of ways, it was almost unbelievable that he was with me.

  He took his time, making sure he had signed his autograph for every single one of the people who had probably waited the whole day to get a glimpse of him.

  “Thanks, everyone, for coming. I love you too,” he yelled back.

  A girl in pink went in for a picture. When she leaned into Jordan, the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention like pins on the back of a porcupine, and when she reached into her jacket, I didn’t think. I just reacted.

  “No!” I jerked him away with enough force, jumped the barrier, and shoved her to the ground.

  Commotion erupted. The bodyguards moved past the barriers and pushed us behind them.

  “Tene?” Jordan was shocked, his eyes wide and assessing the area, noting the woman on the floor. He pushed me behind him.

  “She was pulling something out of her pocket! She has something in her pocket!” I pointed at the culprit, and her eyes went wide.