Dreaming With My Eyes Wide Open (Hollywood Legends #2) (11 page)

The guest bedroom that Nate currently occupied was surprisingly
roomy. His feet hung over the end, but that was easily fixed by moving his body
so it lay diagonally.

No, nothing was wrong with the bed. The room was homey and
comfortable. The connected bathroom was convenient, affording him some
much-appreciated privacy.

Like the rest of the house, the room was a place where
anyone would be able to relax. Anyone except Nate.

With a sigh, Nate rolled out of bed. He wasn’t going to
sleep so he might as well do something productive. They started shooting some
exterior scenes today. The thought was to get everything done outside first. It
was late September. The weather could hold for another month or they could get
an early snow. Better safe than sorry.

Nate planned on having his part in this movie finished by
the beginning of November. That meant sticking to a tight schedule. Shit
happened, but if he was prepared, there was no reason to think that he wouldn’t
be back in Los Angeles in five or six weeks.

Quickly donning his running gear, Nate quietly slipped from
his room. He didn’t want to disturb Chuck or Paige so he stayed to the right as
he descended the staircase, avoiding the squeaky sixth and third steps.

Funny, he thought as he let himself out of the house. Those
steps were something Paige had pointed out when she showed him his room. Was
that only the day before yesterday? He felt as though he had known her and
Chuck much longer. There was an ease when he was around the older man. Nate
liked him. Respected him.

The whole movie thing still struck him as a small slice of
crazy. But who was he to judge? He made his living jumping out of forty-story
buildings and rolling cars worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Most people
would think that was the height of lunacy.

Chuck had a vision. It wasn’t hurting anyone. In spite of
Paige’s concerns, Chuck wasn’t risking the ranch. Before Nate agreed to help,
he had gone over the budget and cash layout. It was tight, but it wouldn’t
bankrupt the Chamberlins. As long as there were no major delays, Nate planned
on getting this movie in early and under budget.

Nate paused, breathing deeply. There was no substitute for
this. He loved Los Angeles. It was his home. But the air here was so clean it
almost hurt his lungs. A man could get used to running in a smog-free
environment. However, it might take a few days for his body to acclimate. Nate
grinned, filling his lungs again. Oh, yeah. The rush made him a little
lightheaded — in a good way.

Setting out at an easy pace, Nate decided to stick to the
road. He was tempted by the wide, open fields but in spite of the bright,
moonlit night, the countryside was littered with natural booby-traps. If he
stepped in a gopher hole or tripped over a rock, he could break a leg — or
worse. He could die before anyone found him. No, he would play it safe for once
and run where there was little chance for disaster.

Nate started slowly. He liked to work the kinks out during
the first mile, and then pick up the pace. Five or six miles at a time were his
norm. He preferred running outside, but time and opportunity didn’t always
allow for it. He hated treadmills, but they served a purpose when he was stuck
in Alaska in a blizzard or the wind blew so hard in South Carolina that even
his sturdy body ran the risk of blowing away.

As he often did, Nate took the time while he ran to fine
tune the project he was working on. That usually meant figuring out the
intricacies of a stunt. Everything had to be perfect, from the equipment to the
timing. Unconsciously, Nate scratched at the edge of his cast. Neither he nor
the people counting on him could afford the slightest mix-up.

This morning, Nate wasn’t thinking about exploding Ferraris
or ducking punches; he ran the story over in his mind. Halfway through his second
mile, it clicked. Erin Chamberlin wrote a simple story. Heartfelt and
emotional, at the core, it was the story of a man and a woman. It took place
over one week when a married couple had to decide if, after thirty years, they
still belonged together.

Nate saw it clearly. A lot of close-ups. His leads had great
faces. Wilt Adair and Edith Potter were in their fifties. Attractive and
natural. That was how Nate would describe them. Perfect for their roles as
people who had lived a hard life working on a farm that was barely surviving.

If he were lucky, they would be able to convey the everyday
struggle that had brought them to the breaking point. It required a delicate
balancing act that was difficult for seasoned actors. Nate knew what he wanted
to put on film. Getting the performances to compliment his vision was another
thing.

But if he pulled it off? Damn. Wouldn’t that be something?

Going by the feel of his body, Nate figured he had run close
to three miles. On the way back, he tried to clear his mind, concentrating on
his breathing and the feel of the air on his face as he increased his pace. The
moon was at his back, casting long shadows from where it cascaded over his
body.

Scattered in front of him were images out of
A Nightmare
Before Christmas
. Nate was fanciful enough to imagine Jack Skellington
jumping up and jogging alongside him.

Nate laughed at the silly thought.
Nothing wrong with
silly
, his mother would have reminded him. Nate agreed. However, there was
a fine line between silly and looney. He debated the difference as he caught a
slight movement out of the corner of his eye.

He didn’t stop. Instead, Nate slowly jogged in a circle, his
gaze fanning out around the area. It only took a few seconds for him to find
what he was looking for. About five feet off the road was a burlap sack tied
with a bit of rope. He hadn’t seen it the first time he passed because a rock
blocked the view from one side.

Nate approached with caution. He had no experience to draw
upon, but what were the chances it would contain anything but trouble? A wild
animal with sharp teeth came to mind. Or snakes. Nate shuddered at the thought.

The smart thing would be to keep going. Chuck would have a
better idea how to handle it. At the very least, Nate could grab a flashlight and
a pair of heavy gloves. Maybe a gun. Chuck must own a gun. This was a ranch in
Montana. A rifle had to be mandatory.

Before Nate could decide his course of action, the occupant
of the bag made his mind up for him. The whimper then sharp bark that hit his
ears told him right away what he was dealing with. Without another second of
hesitation, Nate knelt and untied the rope.

A cold, wet nose appeared, sniffing at Nate’s hand.
Apparently, it liked the smell because instantly, a head, pudgy body, and four
large, clumsy feet followed.

“Hi.”

On his knees, Nate picked up the puppy, laughing when it
began to squirm. It had two goals. Get as close to Nate as possible and lick
every piece of exposed skin it could reach.

Nate was happy to indulge his new friend. There was no way
to tell how long the puppy had been in the bag, but it couldn’t have been a
pleasant experience. Freedom was sweet and apparently so was Nate.

“Or maybe it’s salty you like,” Nate said, cuddling the warm
body close to his chest. The sweat produced from his run dried quickly, leaving
a coating on his skin that suited the puppy just fine.

“What do you say we get you back to the house? There might
be something tastier than me waiting for you.”

Nate cradled the dog with his good arm before reaching for
the empty sack.

“Easy,” he crooned when the animal tried to burrow into his
chest. “I promise; no one will ever put you in one of these again.”

It only took a few minutes before Nate jogged up the porch
steps. The light in the window told him someone was up and the smell of coffee
that hit him when he opened the door was a welcome confirmation.

Paige. Her bright hair was pulled back into one long tail.
It left her face free. Free of swinging hair. Free of makeup. Natural.
Damn
,
Nate thought. Paige Chamberlin might be the most beautiful woman he had ever
seen. Considering movie stars surrounded him every day of his life, and his
mother was legendary for her face as well as her acting, that said something.

“Dad was certain you were still in bed,” Paige held up the
coffee pot. “Want a cup?”

“I’ll take a gallon. Black.”

“Bad night?” Paige was reaching into the cupboard when she
spotted what Nate was carrying. “Where did you find the puppy?”

Forgetting the coffee, Paige rushed toward Nate. Seeing the
smile on her face, Nate felt a twinge of jealousy. He wanted her to reach for
him with the same enthusiasm.

“On my way back from my run I saw a bag on the side of the
road. This cutie was in it.”

“On our property?” Paige asked, visibly outraged. “Why would
anyone do that? Who dumps a puppy? And on someone else’s land?”

“We’ll probably never know.” Nate watched as Paige poured
milk into a bowl before setting it and the dog on the floor. “Though I would
love to find out.”

“Me too. You could punch them out.”

“Really?” Nate leaned against the counter. The puppy licked
the bowl clean. Paige refilled it, but this time with water. “You want me to do
it? I thought you would take care of it yourself.”

Paige looked him up and down before her eyes met his. “I
like the idea of scaring the person. I’d be happy to do the hitting, but I
don’t pack the same intimidation factor as you.”

I don’t know,
Nate thought,
you scare me shitless
.

“What are you going to do with her?”

“Her?”

“The puppy?” Paige set a frying pan on the stove and
proceeded to crack some eggs into in. “She’s a sweetheart. It shouldn’t be hard
to find her a good home if you don’t want her.”

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I’ve never had a dog. I
travel so much it isn’t practical. How about here at the Double C?”

“Mom adopted the sweetest mutt you could ever meet when I
was about five years old. When he died, she couldn’t bring herself to replace
him. Having a dog around again would be nice.”

Finished with her water, the puppy bounced over to Nate and
promptly began chewing on his shoelaces. “None of that.” He snatched her up.
“Shoes are off limits, understand?”

Happily, she swiped her tongue across Nate’s chin.

“I think she’s decided who she loves.”

“I have a way with women,” Nate said.

It was the understatement of the year. Paige gave the eggs
one last stir before plating them. She added some of the bacon that she had
cooked while he was out and two slices of warm, buttered toast.

“Sit. Eat.” Paige set the plate next to a fork and napkin.
“Puppies and teenagers are right in your wheelhouse.”

“I won’t argue. However, women like me even better.” Nate’s
smile was slow. “Want to know why?”

“Yes.”

That threw him. Nate had expected her to counter with
something snarky. Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he took an eager
step in Paige’s direction.

“But,” she said quickly. “Not right now. Not today.”

“When?” Nate asked. “Or is it a secret?”

“Why don’t I pour you that coffee? Your new girl looks like
she’s ready for a nap.”

“She’s had a pretty traumatic time of it.” Instead of
setting her down, Nate took a seat, settling the puppy in his lap.

“There you go.” Paige joined Nate at the table, a cup of
coffee for him in one hand and hot tea for herself in the other.

“Thanks.” Nate took a bite of the perfectly scrambled eggs
then fed Beauty a small piece. Her whimper of happiness said it all. Warm food
and Nate’s lap. She was in doggy heaven.

Paige sipped her drink. “Nate.”

Nate’s blue eyes seemed to have an extra twinkle to them
when they met hers. It made keeping her thoughts straight difficult.

“I like the way you say my name.”

“Nathaniel.”

Paige tried to sound like a repressed Victorian schoolmarm.
By the smoldering look he gave her, she had failed. Miserably.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, Paige. Beauty and I are eager
to listen.”

“I was thinking… Wait. Beauty?”

“Isn’t she a Beauty?” The puppy’s tail wagged. “She agrees.
Sweet and pretty as a Montana morning.”

“Goddamn you, Nate Landis.”

“Watch the language in front of the baby.” Nate pretended to
cover Beauty’s ears. “What did I do?”

“You’re too…”
Edible?
No, it wasn’t a good idea to
tell him that. Nate didn’t need any encouragement. Paige wanted to slow things
down. Telling him how tasty he looked was not the way to do that.

“When you say things like
she’s as pretty as a Montana
morning,
how am I supposed to resist you?”

“That’s easy,” Nate shrugged. “You aren’t.”

The man was impossible. Deciding to change tactics, Paige
came at him with logic.

“How long have we known each other?”

“I know where you’re going with this, Paige. But…”

“Less than forty-eight hours.”

Paige plowed ahead. Nate’s argument, whatever it was going
to be, would be tempting. She looked at his mouth and sighed. Too tempting.
Especially when she knew how good he tasted. The man was a big sexy walking
temptation. He might as well have a neon arrow flashing over his head that
said, ‘Mind-blowing Sex Guaranteed.’

“You need more time.”

“I’ve never had sex with a man that I’ve known for less than
three months.”

“Say again?”

“You’ve slept with women you just met?”

“Once or twice.” Or more.

Paige leveled a look at Nate.

“What can I say?”

“I don’t want you to say anything, Nate.” Paige absently ran
her finger around the rim of her cup. “I don’t care about that. I don’t want to
know who, what, where, when, or how many. Are you always safe?”