Danger Zone (4 page)

Ellie carefully looked at the bills and filled in the same numbers on her check then painstakingly signed her name.

“Looks good,” Ashley said as Ellie finished writing the amounts in her checkbook. “Here, let me subtract for you. I can’t find the calculator. I think it’s buried under some stuff in my room.”

“I should do it, Ash.”

“I know you
can
. That’s not in question. It’ll just be quicker if I do it. It’s easy.” Ashley wrote down the new balance in the register. “See. Done. You’d still be hunting for the calculator.” She handed over the envelopes and Ellie stuffed the stubs and checks inside.

“Thanks, Ash.” Ellie always felt bad enough having to rely on Ashley to write checks and fill out forms, but when it came to the things she
could
do, she still felt downright stupid because Ashley could do them so much faster. One of these days, she’d have to face her fear and learn to read instead of making excuses why she couldn’t do it. Yes, long, erratic hours and fill-in work that cropped up on a moment’s notice made taking classes hard, but if she wanted a career change, she had to face reality. The truth hit her like a sucker punch to the gut. Memories of high school, of classmates laughing at her when she stood frozen at the blackboard haunted her. What if that happened now? Kids were cruel, but what if adults laughed too? How could she face that kind of humiliation again?

Ellie pushed aside the scary thoughts, found stamps in the desk and set the mail on the entry table. After tossing her checkbook through her bedroom door onto the dresser, she came back to the sofa and sat next to her roommate.

“What’s up? Why so quiet?” Ashley set her feet on the coffee table and flexed her toes.

As the realization settled in her head, Ellie took a deep breath. “You know how I’ve really taken to the car this week and I’ve loved driving?” Ashley nodded and took another drink so Ellie continued, “Well, I’ve decided that I want to talk to Trace about going to her race school and maybe think about a career change.” She dared a glance at Ashley, not sure what her roommate’s reaction would be and hurried to explain, “I can’t rely on you the rest of my life. I know that. And to take this step means I have to learn to read.”

Without any hesitation, Ashley threw herself at Ellie, tears in her eyes. “Good for you!” she squealed. “You can do this. I swear,” she said. “I know you’re scared, but I’ll help you every step of the way.” She laughed and pulled away. “God, do you remember your driver’s test? There’s no way I’m doing that again.”

“I’ll always owe you for that,” Ellie said. Ashley had gone with her to the DMV. They’d dressed alike and with their long blond hair they’d almost looked identical. Ashley had taken the written test, but after a switch in the ladies room, Ellie had taken the driving test and picture ID. It had been much easier than they’d anticipated.

“You’ve kept to the deal,” Ashley told her. “No car accidents. Just because you couldn’t tackle the written test doesn’t mean you don’t understand the rules of the road.” She leaned back. “I’m so proud of you for making this decision. First thing tomorrow I’ll get on the internet and find you a class somewhere. We can totally do this.” After another hug, she leaned back.

Despite her worry, Ellie had hope for the future. With Ashley helping her, she could do this. Everyone faced fears and it was time she face hers. Just because she’d fallen through the cracks, didn’t mean she couldn’t strive for the life she deserved.

“So, is there another reason you’re finally going to do this?” Ashley asked. “Like ‘Play-ah’?” She loved putting a spin on the name. “What happened with him today?”

Ellie smiled in spite of herself. “Quinn—” Player. “—rented a limousine. He must have money. I think he’s spoiled rotten. Gotten everything handed to him on a silver platter all his life. He seems so different than his brother, Mac.”

“You of all people know that siblings don’t necessarily have to be anything alike,” Ashley said, wriggling her toes. “How old would Phil have been, now?”

“Uh…” It took Ellie a second to come up with it. “Thirty-six.”

“That’s right. He was eight years older than you. I always think it’s less.”

“Probably because of the way I used to talk about him.” He’d always be sixteen to her, a gangly kid with a brilliant brain trying to find his way in the world.

“Speaking of talking, have you talked to your folks lately?”

Thinking about her parents brought Ellie a fresh wave of guilt and anger. Their relationship had been a one-way street for years and she was tired of traveling the same road. She held back a groan and sounded as casual as possible. “Not in a few weeks.”

“Elle…” Ashley’s voice was full of reproach.

“Don’t ‘Elle’ me. I’ll call tomorrow before we take Sheryl out.” Maybe if she was lucky, she’d get the answering machine.

Ashley sat up and faced her. “Your parents hate going that long without talking to you. Your mom’s told me that.”

“Then why do they treat me like crap when I
do
call?” She knew the answer to that question, but it still hurt too much to think about. She’d never been good enough, especially since Phil’s death. “Besides the telephone works both ways.” She really didn’t want to rehash this subject with Ashley. How many times had they climbed this hill only to come rolling back to square one in the end? Ellie stood and headed toward her bedroom. “I’m going to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Oh c’mon, Ellie Belly, don’t go away. I promise not to talk about your parents.”

Ellie leaned against the doorjamb. Ashley’s pitiful face begged forgiveness. “That’s not it. I really am tired and I doubt we’ll be getting much sleep tomorrow night.”

“Sheryl made me promise to get her in early so she’ll look good for Sunday. No hangovers.”

“What a party pooper.”

Ashley laughed. “Said the girl who never drinks. How would you even know a party pooper if you saw one?”

“We all look alike.” Ellie waved four fingers in her roommate’s direction. “Nighty-night.”

“Night, babe. See ya in the morning.”

Ellie brushed her teeth and hair and pulled on a clean T-shirt to sleep in. Unfortunately, once she closed her eyes, Quinn Reynolds made a very strong impression beneath her lids. All he’d had to do was lean in a little more through her window earlier and she could’ve kissed him. She might’ve too. Just to see the surprised look on his gorgeous face.

Monday morning and the dark soundstage was already a big den of monotony. Because of rain at the track location, the schedule had been changed and they were now shooting in the studio. The plan was to be back at the track on Wednesday after the storm had moved off.

The huge soundstage held different sets required for the movie and they currently worked in “Trace’s office” attached to the “garage.” Farther to the left, a maze of hallways opened up to a bigger area where a fight scene would take place. At the moment, the lights in the studio illuminated only the small space they worked in, leaving most of the giant stage a dark abyss.

Having spent an hour on one tiny scene—who were they kidding, it was a sentence—the quiet set had erupted into movement and frenzy once the director yelled, “Cut. Check the gates.” A minute later, two cameramen announced, “Gates are good,” and the director said, “Moving on.”

Hallelujah.

Quinn kept a lookout for Mac. His brother and Trace had been in a closed-door meeting all morning, leaving him to stew in solitude. Watching Julie work hadn’t been a hardship, but Quinn kept finding his gaze roaming to the stage door. Looking for Mac, maybe, but also keeping an eye out for Ellie. Because Mac and Trace had made an impromptu trip to San Diego to help fix the potential investor snafu, Quinn had been stuck alone the whole weekend and his thoughts had centered on Ellie. No woman had ever been
this
hard to get. Sure, he’d played games with women, but something about Ellie struck him in an odd way.

The stage door opened and Quinn knew Ellie by her silhouette. She turned her head and that long blond hair swooshed behind her back in the same ponytail. Jesus, did he ever want to touch her hair. He’d never wanted anything more. His pulse picked up and his mouth went dry. The low cut jeans would’ve revealed her belly button if her T-shirt—knotted at the bottom—hadn’t covered her. Even dressed down she topped his chart of beautiful females.

She scanned the dark studio, no doubt letting her eyes adjust from the outside light. She started forward, but stopped suddenly. Reaching for the cell phone clipped to her waistband, she flipped it open and listened. Her serious expression dissolved into utter relief as she sighed and let her head fall back.

Quinn’s pulse took another odd leap as he watched the graceful column of her neck in the dim light. He wanted to press his lips against her skin, nuzzle her neck and taste the shell of her ear. He looked away and exhaled a rush of air. Shit. He was more than half hard.

A few minutes later, he spotted Ellie talking with a couple of stuntmen. Standing in a set that looked every inch the bowels of a racetrack, they went over the fight scene step-by-step.

The lighting guys had just started setting up the shot so it was bound to be another thirty or forty minutes before they started rolling. Set dressing put the last touches on the walls, making them seem like real cement, exactly as the forgotten alley where the final showdown happened.

Trace hadn’t been looking forward to this scene where the villain and heroine ultimately faced off. Quinn figured it brought back too many memories of a horrible day. Both she and Mac had nearly died.

Quinn let his gaze fall back to Ellie just as she took a slow-motion hit from one of the stunt guys and fell back. The guy picked her up by the collar and her belly flashed, smooth and flat, before he hit her again. All in slow motion as they choreographed the scene. But even in slow-mo, Quinn’s stomach took a queasy roll. The idea of someone hitting her didn’t sit right with him. He’d seen pictures of Trace’s sister. Chelsea had been beaten within an inch of her life that day. Imagining Ellie with all those bruises made him nauseous.

The stunt guy extended a hand and helped Ellie to her feet. Her smile brightened the whole frickin’ stage. He wanted her to smile at him that way.

Dammit. He didn’t want to be on the sidelines. He wanted in.

She headed toward the stage door and passed behind his director’s chair, showing no sign that he existed.

“Elle.” Quinn dodged some huge lights, clothes racks and set walls as he caught her before she reached the door.

She stopped, turned around and pasted a smile on her face, but it wasn’t anywhere near the one he’d seen a minute ago.

“How was your wedding weekend?” he asked.

“Good. It was good.” She nodded and seemed especially distracted.

Quinn forged on. “So the bride and groom got off all right?” Shit. Poor choice of words.

“Just—”

The door opened behind her and Ellie turned. “Oh, thank God,” she breathed, grabbing the blonde that walked into the studio. Just
how many
blondes lived in California anyway? “I didn’t think you’d get here.” Ellie grasped the lady’s shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug. Quinn would’ve paid money to trade places. To feel her arms around him, have her breasts crushed against his chest.

“You are the best. I love you. I so owe you.” Taking the script the lady handed her, Ellie flipped through it briefly.

“Who’s your friend?” the new blonde asked. She was heavier than Ellie, with pretty blue eyes. Her vivacious attitude reached out and grabbed him.

Quinn smiled at her. With only three words, she conveyed her interest in him. Why couldn’t he get that same thing from Ellie?

Ellie shot her friend a glance that Quinn couldn’t interpret. “Ashley, this is Quinn Reynolds. Quinn, this is my roommate, Ashley Bristol.”

The fastest way to a girl’s heart was through her friends. Not that he wanted Ellie’s heart. Quinn stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you. Congratulations to your sister.”

Ashley went doe-eyed as she shook his hand. This was the kind of response he usually got, the one that paved the way for all kinds of possibilities. “Thank you. That’s so sweet. It was a great weekend. Did Elle tell you about it?”

“Not yet,” he said. “But she promised me she would.”

“No, I didn’t,” Ellie quickly reminded him.

“But you meant to.” Quinn gave her his best smile. Teasing her was too fun. He had a million different ways of teasing if she’d give him the chance.

Ashley playfully smacked Ellie’s arm. “Lighten up. He’s playing.”

“Trust me. I know,” Ellie muttered. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Sorry. It’s just been a stressful morning. I’ve never left my script behind before.”

“Aren’t there plenty here?” Quinn asked. He pointed to a box on a table not far from the stage door. “There are a ton of them in there.”

“Yeah, but they don’t have my notes in them,” Ellie explained.

“So make new notes.”

She glanced at Ashley then back at him. “Easier said than done.” She twirled the ring on her pinkie finger and refused to meet his gaze.

“Well, I have to get to work. I’ll see you later.” Ashley faced him and cocked her head to the side in heavy flirt-mode. “Nice to meet you, Quinn. Be nice to Elle so she’ll bring you around the apartment.”

“I’m trying,” he assured her. “I’m trying.”

Ashley smiled and made big eyes at her roommate.

Ellie took her arm and lead her toward the door. “I’ll walk you out.” No mistaking the command to
get out
and, oddly, it made Quinn smile.

“Here, let me get that for you,” Quinn said, opening the door and refusing to be left in the dust. Ever the gentleman, he was. Racking up points right and left. He followed them outside.

The sun was trying its best to blast a hole through the cloudy haze, but the heat still threatened any deodorant that had a job to do.

Ashley settled in her beat up Honda. After three cranks of the engine, she finally took off. Ellie headed toward the long trailer outside the stage door. It looked like the same one from the location.

No way was she getting away from him now. Quinn hustled to keep up. “I see Ashley’s got her car back which means you must have your Mustang.”

A genuine grin split Ellie’s lips. That spectacular dimple came out to play and nearly knocked Quinn down for the count. “Yep. Picked it up Saturday morning. It was ready early.”

“Do I get to see it?”

Ellie stopped at her door, looking skeptical and a little put out. “It’s in the parking structure, so I don’t know—”

“Show me at lunch.”

“You’re not going to stop, are you?” She leveled him with a steady gaze, but he could play the game as good as anyone. Probably better than anyone.

“Stop what?”

“Doggin’ me.” She pulled at the elastic band holding her ponytail and her hair fell around her shoulders in a shiny wave. Talk about temptation. He could picture that hair trailing down his chest as she moved her soft lips along his body…down…down…

Swallowing back the excessive saliva in his mouth, Quinn struggled to find the thread of conversation. “I could ask you something similar along those lines. Why do you keep running?”

“I’m not running.”

“Sure you are. For some reason, you’re ignoring the sparks between us. At least I—”

“There aren’t any sparks between us,” she countered indignantly. She was either blind, stupid or in denial. Since she obviously was not blind and probably couldn’t have hung onto her job for ten years if she was stupid, he picked denial.

“Of course there are. I’ll prove it to you.”

The wary look on her face said it all. She didn’t trust him an inch. Not that he could blame her. He’d hit on her using the same line he’d used on Julie. He still couldn’t believe he’d repeated it. Maybe he was just trying to find the smooth operator who’d disappeared six months ago. That sure as hell hadn’t happened. But the way she’d teased him about it had made her stand out. So far, everything about her made her different. Now, folding her arms across her chest, she drilled him with a hard green gaze. “How would you do that?”

Yes!
“Three and a half touches.”

“Excuse me?”

Quinn lifted his hands, palms out in front of him. “I’m only going to use the tips of my fingers and I only get to touch skin I see.”

Her brows snapped together.

“Hold on. Hear me out. You’re wearing jeans and a short sleeve crewneck shirt.” Unfortunately, her top and bottoms met at the edges and her belly button stayed hidden. “The only thing I have is your arms and above your neck.” Not a whole lot to work with, but he had confidence in their chemistry.

“And you think I’m going to let you touch me?”

“I won’t hurt you,” he promised. Time to up the stakes…maybe throw out a challenge. “The only reason I can think of that you don’t want me to do this is because you know I’m right.”

“Of course you’re not right.”

He loved the fierce dark green her eyes turned when she got adamant. He bet he could get them that color a number of different ways. All of them in bed. “Then you’ve got nothing to lose,” he said. “I dare you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Men,” she mumbled. “Like I care about a dare.” Ellie opened her trailer door and stepped up and inside. Her hair hung down to the waistband of her jeans.

“Okay. I challenge you then,” Quinn said on her heels. “I get three and a half touches. If they don’t faze you, we don’t go out, but if even one touch gets to you. I win and you go out with me.”

She faced him, her head cocked to the side, her gaze telling him he was nuts. “You’ve got to be kidding. Why don’t you find Julie? I’m sure she’d be all over your little touch game.”

“Because I don’t want Julie.” He said the words very distinctly, letting each one fall so she understood him very clearly. Standing on the top step, he grinned. “What’s wrong? Afraid I’ll get to you? Afraid I’ll be right and prove we have chemistry?”

“We
don’t
have chemistry.”

His brows lifted a fraction. “Then you’ve got nothing to lose, do you?”

Way to go, Ellie
. She’d sure as hell walked right into that one. Quinn had baited her perfectly and she had no way out. Of course, she could slam the door in his face. But that seemed exceptionally rude. It wasn’t as though he could really
win
this contest. And he didn’t have that many places to touch. “Fine. Three touches. Only on skin you can see. Go.”

He laughed and the relaxed playboy in him seemed to take over. “It’s three and a half touches,” he clarified.

“What’s with the half?”

“Sometimes the half isn’t necessary.”

So he’d done this before. Which meant she was just another in a long line of women. But hadn’t she expected that? Still, it sort of…made her mad. And also made resisting him easier.

“Then why bother with it?”

“It’s my prerogative.” He studied her for a second and his eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong? A little nervous?”

She leveled him with her best bored stare. “No.” But she was.
Only the skin showing
. If she kept telling herself that, she’d be fine. All of the important parts were covered so he couldn’t do that much damage.

Victory already lurked in his eyes. Man, this guy was cocky. And so damn cute.

Crap. Why did he have to be so damn good-looking? She wanted a guy for the long haul. All the handsome ones wanted was a quick screw on the spread.

“Put your arm out,” he ordered quietly. “Bend it at the elbow. Like this.” He showed her what he meant. Then with his left hand, he gently supported her right arm while keeping it bent in front of her with his thumb just above the bend in her elbow, the other fingers behind her arm.

“Now what?”

“Now…I touch you.” His words were so soft, so confident, that a wave of uncertainty swelled over her. His light gray eyes burned into hers. A stupid flutter of anticipation washed through her. She pushed it back with iron will.

Never taking his gaze from hers, Quinn moved his right thumb down, so slowly, so tenderly, to the hollow of her elbow. It wouldn’t have been that bad except that he stayed in the same place and circled maddeningly slow. Around and around the rough pad of his thumb circled the sensitive area. Goose bumps rose on her flesh, the hair stood up on her arms and nape.

The tiniest of grins curved his lips, but he didn’t stop eye contact…as if he knew without seeing what effect he had on her. His thumb continued down her arm. Slowly, inch by inch. All the way to her wrist where he circled again.