Hot Winter Nights. Debbi Rawlins

       4

      “SORRY ABOUT THAT,” Lila said once they were sitting in his truck. “Film crews should never be released into the general population. They have no manners. No sense of—”

      Clint started the engine and glanced over at her, an amused expression on his face.

      “Yes, I know I’m one of them,” she continued. “But I do have manners.”

      “They didn’t bother me,” he said with a laugh. “But I can’t say I was sorry to get out of there, either.”

      “And what I said about us being on a date... I hope that didn’t upset you.”

      “Lila.” He let the truck idle and turned to look at her. “Do you honestly think I would care if anyone assumed we were on a date?”

      “I don’t know. If you had a girlfriend, you would.” She paused, waiting for him to respond. “You don’t, right?”

      “No, I don’t have a girlfriend. If you’re free Saturday night, would you like to have dinner with me?”

      “Yes.”

      “Good.” He started to put the truck in gear but cut the engine instead. “One more thing,” he said, and leaned over the console.

      His hand slipped behind her neck as he pressed his mouth against hers. Startled, her lips parted on a silent gasp. But he didn’t mistake her reaction for an invitation and rush in. He took his time, his mouth warm and firm as it moved over hers, his large hand cupping her nape. His fingers exerted a slight pressure, just enough to make her ache for more of his touch.

      She parted her lips a little more. His tongue slipped inside, teasing, tasting, probing, then retreated too soon. Clint just stopped kissing her and leaned back. She didn’t understand what had just happened, then relaxed as a lazy smile curved his mouth.

      “I could kiss you all night,” he whispered, brushing the back of his hand down her cheek.

      “I didn’t stop you,” she said, hoping the semidarkness hid her blush.

      “No, I have to keep myself in check before I—get carried away.” He toyed with her hair, letting a tendril curl around his finger. “I have manners, too.”

      She loved the smell of him. His scent was warm and musky and very masculine in a way she couldn’t describe. There was a hint of soap, maybe leather, and a big helping of easygoing confidence.

      “Why don’t you date?”

      “I don’t meet many men outside the industry. And hooking up with coworkers rarely turns out well. I won’t do it. People gossip about nothing as it is. I refuse to feed them anything they can distort. I’m not thick-skinned enough.” She saw that he was really listening and maybe having trouble making sense of what she was telling him. “And yes, to be in this business I need to be tougher. I know that, and hopefully I’ll get there.”

      Clint frowned, withdrawing his hand. “That would be a shame. From what I’ve seen, you’re already firm and assertive. You don’t let anyone bulldoze you. I think you’re plenty tough.”

      “Oh, you don’t know this business,” she said, laughing.

      “You’re right. I don’t know the first thing about it. What I do know is that I like you just the way you are.”

      Lila searched his eyes. It could’ve been just a line, but it didn’t feel like that. “I mean, how often do you hear the word date anymore? Nowadays, if you even hear the word, it’s usually a euphemism for sex.”

      “I seem to recall us both using it. That’s not what I meant.”

      She couldn’t help grinning at his offended expression. “I didn’t think you did, not for a second. If I had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

      “See?” The skin at the outside corner of his eyes crinkled with humor. “You can be tough.”

      Lila had forgotten what a joy it was to be talking with a man she liked, who had no association with Hollywood. No hidden agendas. She had a feeling that with Clint, what you saw was exactly what you got. “By the way, I do cuss. A lot.” She moved her hand to rest on his. “But only in my head.” Clint laughed just as she was about to lean forward and show him how assertive she could be. “Hey,” she murmured, “that counts.”

      “You’re right.” His voice had lowered, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. “We should go someplace.”

      “Where?”

      “Anywhere but here.” His flat tone prompted her to follow his gaze.

      Two men were crossing Main Street, but she didn’t know them.

      “Have you eaten?” Clint asked. “We can grab something quick at the diner, or if you have time, there’s a new steak house—”

      “Sorry, I can’t.” She sat back. “I was teasing earlier. We do film at night, indoor scenes, especially when we’re this far behind schedule. They might need me later, but I won’t know until the last minute.”

      “Ah, but you haven’t convinced me to be an extra. So your job here isn’t done yet.”

      “That’s true.” She fastened her seat belt when he started the engine.

      “Hey, who’s that Baxter character, anyway?”

      Lila sighed. “A pain in everyone’s behind, but he has a rich uncle who’s written us a big fat check, and now everyone has to put up with him.”

      “You mean the guy’s in charge?”

      “Oh, God, no. Baxter’s just the director’s glorified errand boy. He’s supposed to be learning the business.”

      “So he gets chewed out if I don’t want to be an extra? Not you. Is that right?”

      “Oh, I have nothing to do with it. If you had agreed, then Baxter would owe me. That’s all.”

      “I noticed a bunch of local cowboys standing around. I assume they’ve been hired. Why not use one of them?”

      “If Jason, the director, sees something he wants in a particular shot, he won’t let it go. Whether it’s a person or a storefront or a mountain, he gets obsessed. He and Erin went to war over using Moonlight Mountain. Do you know it?”

      “Sure. Who won?”

      “Erin.” Lila grinned like a proud mama, which made Clint laugh.

      She was guessing that the way he’d handled the runaway horse, shutting out everything around him, his focus laser sharp until it was just him and the stallion, was what had drawn Jason’s attention.

      As they drove down Main Street, she studied Clint’s profile, seeing him just as the camera would see him.

      With his strong stubbled jaw and intense gaze, he was the quintessential cowboy hero. On the other hand, she could just as easily picture him as an outlaw, his face on an old West wanted poster. Either way the camera would love him.

      “You know what, it might be fun,” she said. “Something different.”

      “What?”

      “Being in the film. It’s not like learning a role. But I should point out that while you’d be considered an extra, you won’t be just a face in the crowd like the others. The director will want some close-ups and shots of you standing alone, apart from the action. A shadowy red herring.”

      Clint looked at her as if she’d forgotten to brush her teeth.

      Lila grinned. “There’s no speaking involved, and if you’re worried about looking stiff, I could coach you.”

      He didn’t respond but turned off the highway