Between Octobers Bk 1, Savor The Days Series (33 page)

“You must be Grace.” The woman held out her
thin hand. Far beyond my reach. I would have to step towards her,
away from Evan, to take it.

I’d seen her around the set before, but we
hadn’t actually spoken. Evan said I didn’t need to introduce
myself. He said she was small-minded and I would not like her. I
thought of the angry look on his face as I walked in and the harsh
sound of his voice right before I knocked. He didn’t want her here.
Yet, here she was. In his trailer.

I stepped forward and gave a firm, confident
shake. My response sounding as petty as I felt. “I’m the wife. How
do you know Evan?”

“We run in the same circles.” She looked me
up and down. “I’m Gretchen, by the way.”

I nodded but couldn’t think of anything to
say. Evan’s arms hung about my waist. The metered presence of his
hot breath coming through the fabric on my shoulder told me he was
burying a laugh in it. I shook my head, feeling territorial.

It was awkward, waiting for Gretchen to
excuse herself. I gave my jacket to Evan. He tossed it on the sofa
behind us, then replaced his arms around my waist.

“You’re very sexy in black,” he breathed
into my neck, kissing the nape.

“Thank you,” I mumbled and reached back to
run my fingers through his silky hair.

“How long will you be visiting?” Gretchen
asked, using a tone that implied I was interrupting something.

I squared my shoulders.

“Well, this is all very entertaining, but if
you don’t mind . . .” I heard his smile. He was enjoying our paltry
behavior way too much.

“I’d better be going. We have a few scenes
to get ready for. See you out there, Evan.” She disappeared inside
a soft pink, knee length parka and walked out.

I locked the door as soon as it shut. “That
was petty, wasn’t it?”

“That was brilliant,” he laughed
raucously.

And then, he was glued to me—his lips on my
neck and my jaw, then my mouth. His arms on my waist, my hips, and
then my bottom. He pressed his hips against mine, stealing my
breath, telling me everything I wanted to hear without words. I
pulled him closer, held him tighter. We were finally alone.

I squirmed and
huffed
in frustration. I wanted to look pretty just a
little while longer, but my skirt would not go back down the right
way. The silky material kept crumpling with static and would not
stop clinging to my thick tights. I gave up, deciding it was a sign
for me to change clothes.

“Do you mind if I smoke?”

Evan was sitting behind me, watching me
change and holding a cigarette between his lips. I wished the habit
wasn’t so deadly. The look of that heated stare, with his lips
slightly parted, he drove me crazy. I plopped next to him, fiddling
with the tight legs of my favorite skinny jeans.

“I thought you were quitting.”

“Well, I’ve been chain-smoking.” He tossed
it on the table. “But if you don’t want me to, I won’t,” he said,
leaning in to kiss me.

This was no post-coital peck. It was a long,
lingering, tongue down the throat, hands in the hair kiss. The kind
that curled my toes and filled my stomach with butterflies. The
kiss type of mind-blowing kiss that drove me mad. I grabbed his
shirt and he fell into me, catching himself on the back of the
couch. It made me forget where we were, about my clothes, and the
call he was been waiting for . . .

I was breathless when he pulled away.

“As much as I love seeing you like this, you
should probably get dressed,” he whispered, tugging at my bra
strap. His lips brushed from my chin to my throat and down along my
shoulder.

“It’s all your fault, you know,” I said,
referring to my inability to think responsibly when he was
around.

“Will you stay longer?” He looked so good in
a soft blue shirt that made his eyes look like a clear summer
sky.

I bounded from the little sofa and yanked my
pants on in one, quick move. “Let’s see how it goes.”

“Yeah, begging never works with you, does
it?”

“I’m immune to pleading. It probably has
something to do with having children.”

I threw my t-shirt on and stuffed my
remaining things into the duffel bag. He looked at his shoes. Maybe
it was the way the light hit his face, but I noticed large circles
in the hollow under his eyes.

“
You look tired.” I stepped in front
of him, combing my fingers through his hair when he looked
up.

“I can’t sleep.” He shrugged, resting his
face against my stomach, kissing me through my shirt.

“How long until they need you?”

“Any moment.” He swooped his arms around my
waist and shoved me aside, sending me onto the sofa beside him.
“We’re shooting a love scene. I didn’t tell you before because I
thought you might not come.” My shocked laugh turned quiet as he
quickly stood and unlocked the door.

I sat up, trying to think while shoving my
feet into my shoes. “You want me to watch you?”

“Yes. So you’ll know it’s strictly
work.”

“Will you be naked?”

“Almost.”

“What about her?”

“I hope not,” he muttered.

“It’s not like you’ll be seeing anything you
haven’t seen before.” His head snapped up. Our eyes locked. “I’m
not threatened.”

He smirked. “She certainly is.”

“What are you going to wear?”

“Modesty Patches.” I had no idea what he
meant. It must have shown on my face because he started to explain.
“They’re these little flesh-toned things that cover up your
goodies. Keeps them from rubbing up against your co-workers.” He
tried to sound serious, but laughed a little.

“Why is that funny?”

“When you see me in them, you’ll know.”

In the wardrobe trailer, I was introduced to
another stylist, Romy. I liked her right away. She was short and
slight with a mountain of light wavy curls. She had a great, full
laugh. Together, we carried the few things she needed to change
Evan for the next scene, since he was not going to be forced to
slosh through the snow in costume. Inside the rented house, it was
easy to tell where they were shooting. All you had to do was follow
the lights. Every other surface was covered with equipment,
monitors, and huge cables taped to the floor.

I stood in the hall outside the closed
restroom, talking with Romy while Evan disrobed. Once he gave the
okay, she opened the door and walked inside. I closed it tight
behind her, resigned to wait like always.

“Get in here,” Romy growled, reaching out
and pulling me in. “Why would I make you wait outside?”

“She’s never seen me naked before.” Evan
snickered.

“I should be so lucky.” I rolled my eyes,
but my cheeks heated.

Romy closed her eyes, turning respectfully
away, while Evan opened the white fluffy robe he was given to keep
warm. I took in the sight of him, flushing when I saw that he was
watching me. He raised one eyebrow, but said nothing as he fit a
flesh-toned, jelly-like shape over his genitals. When he gave her
the word, Romy turned back, asking if the fit was okay.

“It’s a little small.” He complained with a
teasing grin.

She assured it was one-size-fits-all, and
got permission to check that everything down below was set, to
avoid possible wardrobe malfunctions later.

One flap-end of the patch didn’t want to
stick.

Sighing, she took out another, slightly
larger, and averted her eyes so Evan could make the switch. He
asked for my help in removing it, which I obliged. After, I stepped
back and let Romy do her thing, checking what she needed to, asking
the same questions.

Though they were using professional tones, I
could tell Evan was very uncomfortable. I decided to take advantage
of the situation.

“So, how are you feeling?” I asked, working
hard to hide my smile.

The timing was great. Romy was squatting on
the floor in front of him, one hand stuck in between his legs. She
was halfway through her count to thirty when I asked. She started
cackling.

“Oh, that’s really nice.” He crossed his
arms over his partially bared chest.

“But, are you comfortable?” I probed.

“About as comfortable as you are with the
gynecologist.”

“I have a really handsome gynecologist,”
Romy added in a soft tone, almost as if she was thinking out loud.
And the three of us enjoyed a vigorous laugh.

When the fitting and pasting was finally
done, Romy took the big fluffy robe from Evan, keeping her focus on
the opposite wall, and returned a really short, silky red one. He
slipped his arms in and tied it. His legs were almost completely
exposed.

“You can’t afford a full robe?”

“You only have to walk fifteen feet,” Romy
assured as she walked out.

Looking him up and down, seeing how
ridiculous he looked, the hilarity set in.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Now I get it,” I said, referencing the
remark he made earlier. “You look like a Ken doll wearing Barbie’s
robe.”

In mock fury he yelled, “I’m going to be
naked in front of the world! I demand some respect!”

I laughed, holding up my hands. “I respect
you!”

“She really likes you, you know. Everyone
does.”

“Naturally.” I bat my eyelashes.

Another woman entered to put his makeup on
and then another to fix his hair. I’d met them both before but
couldn’t recall their names. Their jobs were easy, since the scene
called for a mostly natural look and Evan had such great skin and
hair. They only applied cover-up under his eyes and followed with
anti-shine powder. His hairdresser ran a comb through his hair
before spraying it a few times.

Once we were alone again, Evan sighed. “It’s
almost time.”

“You know your lines?”

“Uh, there’s not much dialogue.” His brows
pulled together. “Are you sure you don’t mind watching?”

“I’m actually kind of curious.”

His expression relaxed. “Okay. Good. But if
you’re uncomfortable, tell Sheri. She’ll take you back to my
trailer.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because, Gretchen’s going to be a bitch
about this, I know it.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s going to try and use this as an
opportunity to get to you, well, me.”

“You think it’ll work?”

“Not on me, but I just have to get through
it.”

“Do you really want me here?”

“I want you everywhere, all the time.” He
touched my cheek. I moved closer. He cradled my face in his palm,
pulling me against him with the other. When he was about to set his
lips to mine, he stopped. “You’d better find Romy.”

I followed his eyes down as a flesh-toned
piece of jelly fell to the floor between us. It looked like a
concave pancake.

“Clear the set!” A booming voice sounded
from beyond the door.

“Hurry!” Evan urged with a bashful smile,
but his tone was serious. He quickly kissed my lips and moved
behind the door. Luckily, the person I needed was right
outside.

She bulldozed in, shaking her head. “Thin
walls.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled as she got to work.

“It’s my fault. I should have taken you with
me. These are delicate.” She looked towards me while Evan
reapplied.

I blew him a kiss and slipped out the
door.

Sheri was standing behind a monitor in the
corner opposite from where they would be shooting. She motioned
toward me, over her half-eaten sandwich. I greeted her and the
other faces that were becoming familiar. Everyone was polite and
welcoming, as usual.

“So what’s going on?” I asked Sheri.

“The director’s ordered the crew away after
running through the scene with the stand-ins. He’s ready to go now.
How’s Evan?”

“Almost ready.”

As I said it, Evan came from the bathroom in
his tiny robe. He looked intense.

“Is he always this nervous?” I could not
recall seeing him look so anxious before, at least not while he was
working.

Sheri took a drink of water and swished it
around in her mouth. “Probably because you’re here. He’s never had
to make out with another woman in front of his wife before.”

“Should I leave?” Maybe he was not as cool
with the situation as he seemed.

“Did he say he wanted you here?”

“Yeah.” I nodded my head.

“Do what he wants, then. But you should
know, it’s considered bad manners for significant others to be
present for scenes of this nature.” Her voice fell to a whisper.
“The director’s not convinced it’s a good idea. We’ve got to shut
our traps—they’re going to start.”

From across the room, it was clear Evan
really had Gretchen pegged. She waltzed out, gorgeous legs a mile
long, face made up to look natural, and confidently dropped her
robe as one of the assistant directors was clearing out the last of
the lingering lighting crew.

My mouth dropped open as she flashed
everyone.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Sheri
whispered.

“Yes, very . . . symmetrical.” It was the
most accurate way to describe her perfect set of perky breasts.

Sheri snickered, covering her mouth with her
palm.

At that same moment, Gretchen turned toward
us and waved as she lowered herself onto the bed set up for this
scene. A shocked laugh found its way out of my mouth. Several
people turned, giving us a stern look. Sheri apologized to everyone
for me.

I whispered into Sheri’s ear. “Why are they
starting in the bed?” It should have occurred to me before—it was
odd that they would start out at the end.

“They don’t film in sequence . . . all the
stuff that requires the same setting, same actors, yada-yada. They
get the parts leading to this later.” Her words were so soft I
could barely make them out. Her arm moved between us. I backed up
to see she was holding a script. She mouthed, “Want it?”