At First Touch. Tamara Sneed

clutched his arm and tried to keep the desperation out of her voice, as she said, “I need this, Wyatt.”

      He looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know what to tell you. Mom says no.”

      “Who’s house is this? Hers or yours?”

      His discomfort magnified. “Both of ours.”

      Quinn didn’t realize that she was squeezing his arm until she saw a wince cross his face. “Then tell her that you want me to use it. You have to tell her.”

      He gently disengaged himself from her grasp and still did not meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Quinn. I really am.”

      Quinn’s mouth flapped open in disbelief. And then the anger started. “You’re doing this on purpose,” she accused in an angry whisper. “You knew She-Dragon would say no, and you’re doing this to punish me.”

      His eyes widened in surprise as he finally looked at her. “Punish you?”

      “For not wanting you as much as you’ve wanted me all this time.”

      He actually looked amused as he said, “That’s not what’s happening. Trust me.”

      She squared her shoulders and said in her best Sephora voice of promise of retribution, “This is not over, Wyatt.”

      “What do you want me to do?”

      “I want you to tell your mother that you want the movie to be filmed here.”

      He released an impatient sigh. “Quinn, I told you to wait. You didn’t listen to me. It would have taken a while but I could have talked her into it. Now her position is set. She’s not going to budge.”

      She narrowed her eyes and said threateningly, “I will make your life hell until this is resolved, Wyatt.”

      He stared at her for a moment and then smiled. She resented him even more for making her stomach strangely clench. It was that damn smile. He was much too sexy when he flashed that smile. And because he did it so rarely, the smile and her reaction to it always took her by surprise.

      “What are you going to do, Quinn? Toilet paper the house?”

      “I hadn’t thought of that, but thanks for the idea.”

      He rolled his eyes in frustration. “Mother doesn’t change her mind.”

      “Neither do I. This is not over, Wyatt. You may as well surrender now because a Sibley always gets what she wants.” She flipped hair over her shoulder and stalked to her car.

      She turned back to yell at him again and was rendered breathless when she realized that he had been staring at her ass as if he could find the answers to life. He didn’t even seem embarrassed when she caught him.

      Normally, such blatant male hunger would have annoyed her, at the least pissed her off. But for some reason she became nervous. There was something about the frank male appreciation in his eyes that made her uncertain. As if no man had ever stared at her ass before.

      As he stared at her expectantly, Quinn realized that she couldn’t speak. Her throat was clogged with nerves. She sat in her Mercedes convertible and jerked the door shut angrily. Her tires squealed as she stomped down on the gas pedal. She really needed to get the hell out of this town if Wyatt Granger was making her speechless.

      

      Ten minutes later, Quinn stormed into her house and slammed the front door. She kicked off her heels and smiled in satisfaction as they flew across the room into a wall. She paced the length of the living room. She couldn’t return to L.A. without the location. Helmut had made that clear. And Helmut had only given her a week. It would take longer than a week to convince Beatrice Granger that Quinn was not the devil; it would probably take about a century.

      Not that Quinn blamed her. Quinn had never been very good with mothers. It was something about the miniskirts and halter tops. Most moms didn’t like a woman like her around their precious sons.

      Quinn rolled her eyes in annoyance. Beatrice Granger was not standing in the way of her career comeback. She needed a plan, and she needed a plan fast. Quinn suddenly smiled. Only one person she knew was evil enough and brave enough to take on the likes of Beatrice Granger. Kendra. Beatrice was no match for Kendra. Hell, a Roman legion would have been no match for Kendra.

      Quinn plopped onto the sofa in the living room and grabbed the telephone. She dialed her sister’s telephone number in New York.

      “Hello,” Kendra mumbled into the telephone.

      Quinn glanced at the clock on the VCR. It was nearly one o’clock in the afternoon, which meant that it was nearly four o’clock in the afternoon in New York. She had never known Kendra to sleep past six o’clock in the morning or to take naps. Something had to be wrong.

      “Are you asleep?”

      “I was,” Kendra snapped, sounding like her usual annoyed self.

      Quinn instantly dismissed her worries. “I need your help, Kendra.”

      “What? Why?” Kendra asked, suddenly sounding wide awake and concerned. “Are you hurt? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

      “Thank God. I’m in Sibleyville.” There was a long pause on the phone line. “Kendra? Are you still there?”

      “Are any limbs broken?” Kendra demanded.

      “No.”

      “Are you in jail?”

      “Of course not.”

      “Are you pregnant?”

      “Kendra—”

      “Then I’m not coming to Sibleyville and I have to go—”

      “Kendra, wait,” Quinn ordered. “I need you.”

      “What in the world do you possibly need from me that involves me traveling from New York to that hellhole?”

      “It’s almost Christmas, and Charlie and I will be here for Christmas. You can’t spend Christmas alone.”

      “I won’t be alone. There are almost three million people in Manhattan, and I’m sure there are one or two of them who hate the holidays almost as much as I do. If I hear ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ one more time, I will not be responsible for my actions.”

      “Kendra, I need you here by tomorrow.”

      Kendra sighed. “I know that you wouldn’t be in Sibleyville unless your life depended on it, and since your life is solely focused on acting, I’m going to assume that all of this has something to do with that movie you’ve been talking about nonstop for the last few weeks.”

      “Not just a movie, but the movie. My come-back movie. All I have to do is convince this town and Wyatt Granger to go along with it.”

      “Quinn, quit the dramatics and give me the short version,” Kendra snapped.

      “I finally got Helmut Ledenhault to let me audition for his movie. It’s a great role. The character is—”

      “You’re giving me the short version, remember?”

      “I’m trying. After reading the script for On Livermore Road, I knew that Sibleyville would be perfect for it. I talked Helmut into driving to Sibleyville because he needs a cheap location. Anyways, Helmut saw the town, fell in love with the price and in particular fell in love with the Granger Funeral Home. He’s given me one week to get the approval and permits, and I have one huge, unsightly obstacle blocking my way to future Oscar renown. Wyatt Granger.”

      “I’m not sure what I’m having more trouble understanding. The fact that you’re actually acting again, or the fact that someone believes that Sibleyville is good for something.”

      “Kendra, this is serious,” Quinn snapped.

      “I’m still not sure