Hope Ignites - Page 28/75

“Yeah, I’ll stop by the makeup trailer to have myself repaired.”

They walked side by side on their way to the trailers. “Are you all right?”

She stopped and turned to Colt. “I’m fine. Why?”

“You’ve been so quiet all day. Normally we’re chatting like a couple of teenagers. Not today, though.”

She shrugged. “I’m just tired. I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“I knocked on your door around ten, but you didn’t answer. I figured you’d gone to bed early.”

“I wasn’t in my trailer at ten. I was still with Logan.”

Colt’s brows rose. He looked around, then grabbed her arm and pulled her up the stairs and into her trailer. The blissful air-conditioning immediately began to cool down her heated skin. She pulled off the leather vest and dropped it onto the chair, then went to her fridge and got a bottle of water.

“You were with Logan? Why didn’t you tell me this? I want details, Des. In detail.”

Ignoring Colt, she unscrewed the cap on the water bottle and drank half of it before taking a breath. Releasing a sigh of relief, she took a seat at the table. “There’s not much to tell, really.”

Typically she and Colt talked in depth about their relationships. But there was something so intimate about what she and Logan had shared, as if it had been more than just a fun night of sex, that it felt somehow . . . sacred to her.

Which was ridiculous, of course. She and Logan were worlds apart. There could be no relationship between them, and when he’d dropped her off at the set this morning, he might have given her a smoking-hot, lingering kiss, but then he’d driven away without looking back.

He likely wouldn’t even think about her today. He’d gotten laid. So had she. It had been fun. She was always logical about sex and relationships. They rarely, if ever, lasted, and she wasn’t looking for one, anyway, especially not with an Oklahoma rancher. What were the odds of something like that lasting? Like a million to one.

“Des. You’re not talking.” Colt went and grabbed a water for himself. Now he slid onto the bench across from hers in the kitchen and was giving her his most probing gaze.

“I was with Logan last night. Until late. That’s why I’m tired today.”

“And?”

“And, we had a good time together. But nothing’s going to come from it.”

Colt frowned. “You’re not giving me all the juicy details about your sex romp with him last night.”

“No.”

“Which can mean only one thing.”

She yawned, then took another drink of her water. “Oh, really? And what’s that?”

“You like this guy.”

She shrugged. “He’s all right, in a doesn’t-have-much-to-say, chip-on-his-shoulder kind of way.”

“Oh, please. You’ve had the hots for him since you first met him. Then you spend the entire day—and night—with him, and you refuse to spill details when it’s obvious you had sex with him? That means you like him. Just like when I first hooked up with Tony. Remember that?”

“I do remember. You never even told me you two were together.”

Colt wagged a finger at her. “Exactly. And now you and Logan are the same way.”

“The same what way?”

“You’re not talking about him.”

“So? I told you there’s not much in the way of details. It was just sex, Colt. How does that mean I like him?”

“Because if he was just a f**k buddy you didn’t respect, you’d be giving me blow-by-blow—pun intended, by the way—details right now. And you’re not. Which means—”

“Nothing,” she finished for him. “It means I’m tired, Colt.”

Undeterred, he leaned back in the booth. “Oooh, and you’re bitchy, too. Trying to get rid of me?”

She knew he wouldn’t be insulted. “Trying to.”

He got up and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Take a nap. Then call me later after you finish your final scene. We’ll have dinner.”

She watched him walk to the door. “Colt?”

He turned to her. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He grinned. “I know you do, honey. Love you back.”

After he left, she rolled the bottle of water around in her hands, pondering her strange mood. Normally, sex exhilarated and relaxed her. Instead, she was more tense now than before she’d spent the night with Logan.

Probably because they’d stayed up all night, followed by a very long day filled with scenes and retakes.

Speaking of which, she looked at her phone, realizing she was due on set in ten minutes. With a resigned sigh, she finished her water and headed to makeup, where her sweatfest was repaired.

Theo was cranky today, too, which hadn’t helped her mood. His insistence on perfection, doing take after take, was wearing on her.

In this scene, she and one of the other actresses, Philippa Sanchez, were strategizing their moves. As prisoners of the aliens, they had been separated from Colt and some of the other humans. She and Philippa were to be bartered and sold as slaves. It was a dialogue-intense scene, one in which she and Philippa, their characters previously at odds on Earth, learned to work together.

Des thought the first take worked beautifully. Theo hated it and wanted another. Then another. Des could tell from the looks Philippa shot her way that she agreed Theo was out of his ever-loving mind.

At the end of the third take, Des signaled for the prop guy to release her, then got up from the ground where she and Philippa had been shackled together and walked over to Theo.

“What isn’t working for you in this scene, Theo?”

He didn’t even bother looking at her. “I’ve given you direction, so you should know. Your dialogue is stiff.”

Taking a deep breath, she said, “I don’t agree. I think the first take worked beautifully. Our dialogue flowed naturally and the transition from enemies to friends was seamless.”

He shot her a look. “That’s why I’m the director and you’re not. I see things you don’t. Now get back into position so we can shoot it again.”

Irritation pricked every one of her nerve endings. She spun around and went back to the set, flopped on the floor and got back into position.