On Heartbreak Ridge: Movie Trilogy Prequel Novella (The Movie Trilogy) (12 page)

She grabbed her long, dark ponytail between her fingers, and the auburn highlights shone in the dim trailer light. Nervously, she twirled her hair in her hand. “I’m an editor. Hence, the highlighters. Not that it’s any of your business,” she snipped.

Highlighters? I noticed them then, lined up evenly next to the paperback.

Hence?

“Hence, huh?” I grinned, trying not to look at her legs. God, I wanted to look at her legs. “Not that I asked,” I challenged.

“Are you Robin’s brother?” she repeated her question, and I sensed some desperation in her tone.

Okay, I was done teasing the hell out of her. Extending my hand, I met hers easily. “Keaton,”
I said, turning up the charm to ir-fucking-resistible.

Her palms were damp, and I suddenly felt like a complete and utter asshole. Here she was, trying to make a few bucks in this small, nowhere town, and I was purposefully making her nervous.

“Vivian Hale,” she replied, clearing her throat. “Laney Hale’s granddaughter.”

Laney Hale…
Old Mrs. Hale? My Sunday School teacher?

Vivian
. I hadn’t heard an older name like that come through my office doors for a long time. “You have a classy name,” I commented appreciatively.

She was still on her toes, I could tell, trying to determine if I was genuine or not. “Thanks. I’m named after a movie character.”

As I digested her adorable explanation, I decided that I’d do anything short of commit murder to keep her talking. “Really?” I urged.

“
Pretty Woman.
Julia Roberts.”

God, she was so embarrassed. And that
was when I realized she had just rounded our conversation back to sex, given that Vivian in
Pretty Woman
was a hooker.

“I guess Snow White would have been a little too a
rrogant,” I replied, leaning into her. I had to tuck my hands into my pockets to keep from touching her, which made me feel like a fucking lecher. She smelled fresh, like summer sunshine.

Real
.

“Keaton, huh? As in the actor?”

Startled from my sniff-fest, I raised my eyebrows, laughing. I needed to know if she was legal.

Now
.

“You’re a little young to know the great Michael Keaton’s work,” I challenged, ready and waiting. The bait was laid, the trap set.
Tell me your age.

Tell me you’re old enough to
consent, please, for the love of all that’s holy.

“Are you kidding me?
Beaverjuice?
It’s a classic.”

God, she was witty.

And cute.

And no,
no fucking
her
or
anyone
, that wasn’t why I was here.

What in the hell was I thinking? She was turning off the DVD player as I forced my eyes away from her gorgeous body. “Come on, I’ve got to be around here somewhere.” I scanned the DVD cases against the wall, and she stepped out from behind the counter.

“There you are. Right below
Unforgiven
.” She reached under the Clint Eastwood movie, pulling
Mr. Mom
from the shelf.

Below
Unforgiven
. Exactly where I belonged.

“
Well, this is completely unacceptable,” I chided playfully, accepting the movie from her hands. “Mr. Mom hanging out with Clint Eastwood?”

“These are classics. See?” She gestured to the make-shift sign above the shelves.

“Old isn’t necessarily classic.
Unforgiven
has earned its place. Mr. Mom? Come on.”

I almost stopped looking at her perfect little ass long enough to enjoy our conversation. Truly,
legitimately
enjoy every word between us. I hadn’t had this much fun talking to anyone for as long as I could remember.

Definitely not since Kelsey.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Robin has been talking about you non-stop. She said you haven’t been home in years?”

“Seven,” I agreed.

As if on cue, her eyes darted to my left hand as I set the movie case back on the shelf.

My ring.

She swallowed hard, backing away.
I felt the cold wall erect itself between us, and she pulled away from me, hurrying back behind the counter. “Luke’s wedding has been the talk of the town. Well, I guess everything is the talk of the town here. Robin’s doing some last minute stuff tonight, and then the rehearsal dinner is tomorrow, right? In Pittsburgh? You’re the best man, right?”

Her rambling voice wavered with nerves,
and I was tempted to reach out and touch her arm, explaining that I was going through a divorce.

Which would have been completely inappropriate, but god I wanted to.

Her cell phone buzzed then, and we both glanced down at her lit-up screen.

103
Pine

She grabbed the phone, typing with just her thumb.

OK

“Yes… yes… and yes,” I answered all of her rapid-fire questions. “103 Pine?”

“Pizza delivery,” she explained. “I have to close the store down for a few minutes…”

“Pizza delivery?” I smirked, thinking, at first, that she was fucking with me.
When I watched her retrieve her purse and car keys, I realized that she was completely serious. What in the hell…? “Video store, editor, and pizza delivery girl. How many jobs do you have, exactly?”

I’d offended her; I could tell by her jerky movements and irritated sigh. “I’m an actress. Or, I will be. Someday. For now, I need money, and I need to move out of my grandma’s basement. But, you probably could have read my life story in the section over there marked ‘Comedies.’”

Groaning, I laughed, unable to resist her flirty banter. Actress?

Are you fucking kidding me?

Okay, maybe Robin had orchestrated this whole thing after all. “Actress? Well I’m guessing, Vivian Hale, that my gossiping sister told you that I’m a director?”

Cue the utter and complete shock. I was ready for her to bat those beautiful lashes and fawn all over me. Any minute now.

Any minute.

Instead, she ushered me out the door, rolling her eyes at me as she stalked toward the Cadillac. “Riiight. I’ll bet that’s what you tell all the girls.”

I could only laugh incredulously, trying my hardest to take her in.

Was she real?

Her eyes widened, and her arm lifted slowly as she pointed at the Ferrari. “That is a 1961
Ferrari GT
.”

Cars? She knew cars? Get the fuck out of here. “Actually, ’62. Not quite Ferris Bueller’s car.” I threw the reference out there, waiting to see if she got it.

“It was Cameron’s. Dad’s. And this car is worth- like eight
million
dollars.”

Scoffing, I tucked my hands into the pockets of my cargo shorts. “Ten.”

Her jaw hung open, and my dick decided to get all rowdy again as she moistened her lips. She was stunning in the moonlight, and I longed to reach out and pull the band from her hair, letting the thick, dark waves fall over her shoulders.

“What do you… direct?” she asked quietly.

For the first time in all the years since I’d left home, I was actually a little embarrassed to talk about myself. Instead, I deflected, trying to relate to her. “This was my grandfather’s car. It’s been in my mom’s garage. My grandfather left it for me.”

“And you’re
driving it?
You’re going to drive it back to
California?
” she cringed, gaping at the car. “How could you
do
that?”

I laughed, moving around her to open the door of the Cadillac. “You only live once, right?”

Now, I was closer to her than I’d ever been, and my whole body responded before I could check myself.

I needed to touch her.

I took a step toward her, my hand sliding up her forearm to her elbow. I could almost see her mind turning as a myriad of emotions ran through those expressive baby blues of hers.

All I could think about was her mouth on mine.

I wanted to taste her. I still had no idea how old she was, but I was going to kiss the fuck out of her as soon as I had the chance.

And I was
thinking that now was as good a time as any.

She startled me as she nodded toward my hand. “Is your wife here with you?”

I blinked, glancing down at my hand and motherfucking myself from here to kingdom come.

What was I doing? What the fuck was I doing?

Stop. Now.

I will fuck this girl up before those doe-eyes can bat at me twice.

“No. Listen, I know you have to go… but do you have Robin’s number?”

“You don’t have your own sister’s number?”
she asked, almost astonished.

“I haven’t called her in a while.”

She slid into the driver’s seat, looking down at her phone.
Shooting me a hesitant look, she finally relented. I memorized the number as she drummed her fingers against the steering wheel impatiently. “Um, you want to write this down?”

I
grinned, tapping my temple. “I have a good memory. Now, your number.”

She exhaled skeptically.

I continued to stare at her. Relentless.

Finally,
obviously against her better judgment, she rattled off her number without a breath.

I grinned excitedly
. “See you soon, Vivian.”

She paused for a long moment, finally sighing.

“No, you won’t… so I guess, have a nice life,” she said pointedly, starting the car.

I
turned before reaching for the Ferrari’s door, disappointment eating me alive. “You’re not going to the wedding?”

She
shrugged. “Like I said, I just moved here in June. Plus… I have to run the store all weekend.”

Run the store…?

Goddamnit.

I knew exactly what I wanted, and now I needed to figure out how to get it.

I wanted her. As my date, for the weekend, for the wedding.

I wanted her in my bed.

Think.

She obviously
needs money.

I had money.

A
lot
of money.

Confusion swept over her expression, and finally she waved her fingers at me
before throwing the Cadillac into reverse.

“I’ll wait here,” I called.

She slammed on the brake, turning back to me. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll wait here. Until you get back.”

“Why? For what?” She was aggravated, and I was enjoying it. “What are you waiting for?”

I knew how to do cocky, and I knew how to do charming.

And I knew how to melt them together to form fucking
tempting
.

I sauntered over to her open car window, squatting down and folding my arms over the side to gaze up at her.

“I may have a job opportunity for you.”

Her eyes widened, and her breath caught in her throat.

Her mouth was close.

So. Fucking. Close.

“Job?” Her voice was barely a whimper.

I had her. Her heart was pounding- I could tell by her rapid, uneven breaths.

“I’ll discuss it with you when you come back. Okay?”

I didn’t move.

“Okay.” She couldn’t take her eyes off of my face.

And I couldn’t take my eyes off of hers.

“Okay,” I repeated. I slapped the car door twice, punctuating our agreement, and she jumped, blinking rapidly and resuming normal breathing patterns.

I watched her pull away.

And I couldn’t
wait
to see her again.

Kimberly Stedronsky is the author of paranormal, horror,
adult, and new adult romance.

Connect with Kimberly on her website:
www.KimberlyStedronsky.com

Books by

Kimberly Stedronsky

The Movie Trilogy

Below Unforgiven

On Heartbreak Ridge (Prequel Novella)

Before A Perfect World

Beyond Hereafter

Novels

Riordan’s Myth

Thursday’s Child

The Roam Series

Roam

Fall

Rise

Rush

Rule

West

Reign

The Fire Ballad Series

Eighth Note