Star Struck (11 page)

“It must be nice to be back on a sound stage after your last film. Weren’t you out in the mountains?”

Heather’s last film had been a modern day western, most of it shot near Golden, Colorado. She’d hated nearly every minute of it. The city had been so small that there’d been nothing to do off set. She’d been lonely. Collin hadn’t visited at all. Lexie had taken the shoot off to help her mother through breast cancer treatments. Then, when she’d turned to her costar, Micah Preston, for comfort in the carnal sense, he’d brushed her off.

Of course, a week after the 24-Hour Plays, she’d discovered with the rest of the world that he’d had his eye on someone else during that shoot. He’d announced his love for her on America’s Choice Awards, of all places. So it wasn’t like a real rejection when he’d blown off Heather. He’d simply been taken. Still, thinking about it stung, so she shook it off and focused on the question Nat had asked. “It’s so much nicer to be shooting in a studio instead of on location.” She couldn’t remember, or didn’t know rather, if Nat had ever shot anywhere but on a set so she added, “Location gets old fast. It’s lonely and lacks amenities.”

Nat nodded again. She nodded so often and so enthusiastically Heather decided to nickname her Bobblehead. In her head, of course. She’d never say it to Nat’s face.

Also in her head she imagined smacking herself for her constant rude inner-dialogue.

“Our set looks awesome too,” Bobblehead said, unaware of the less-than-nice thoughts running through Heather’s mind. “I can’t believe they built it under pressure. And the crew…” Natalia leaned in, lowering her voice. “There’s at least one hottie.”

“You mean a carpenter?” Did her nipples just perk up at the thought of a hot carpenter?
Down girls—fat chance it’s Seth.

“I don’t know. Whatever they call those guys with all the tools.”

Normally Heather would have made some snarky comment about Nat’s naiveté, at least to herself, but the idea that it could be Seth had her distracted, scanning the set behind them for anyone that might be a carpenter. She spotted someone with a tool belt. Not Seth. Not really hot either, but maybe Nat’s thing was the uniform, not the actual man. Heather nodded her head toward him. “That guy?”

Natalia nodded her head in another direction. “That one.”

Heather followed her gaze.

And nearly peed.

Was loss of bladder control an early sign of pregnancy? Or was it just a sign of pure and utter shock at realizing the hot carpenter was
her
hot carpenter?

She didn’t mean to stare, but she couldn’t help herself. He looked even yummier than he had at the Broad Stage—he hadn’t worn a belt then, she hadn’t gotten to see him use his tools. Now, he stood behind a set piece, securing a loose board with a nail gun. Why the sight had her rubbing her legs together like a cricket singing a lullaby, she had no idea.

And as if he could hear her cricket song, he turned his head and stared directly at her, his eyes nailing her across the distance as efficiently as he’d nailed his set piece. Even if she wanted to look away, she couldn’t. She was glued to him, the world seeming to disappear around them as his lips slowly curled into a sexy grin.

Then he was walking toward them, closing the space between them with sure-footed steps that exuded nothing but pure male confidence. She was heady from his stride alone. When he was near enough for her to catch his scent, her knees wobbled. Holy shit, what the man did to her…

Natalia’s eyes flitted back and forth from Seth to Heather. “He’s coming over here,” she whispered with an excitement that made Heather oddly pissy.

“Yeah, I know him.” She meant her words to claim him. Though she was in no way
with
Seth, it didn’t make him free game to anyone else. As if that made any sense.

“Lucky,” Nat said under her breath as Seth reached them.

He crossed his arms over his chest—had his arms always been that buff? It was sort of disgusting in a totally hot way. “Heather,” he said with a nod.

Did the sound of his voice turn everyone to jelly or just her?

“Seth. Fancy seeing you here.” Her voice was terse, but his smile widened anyway, increasing her pissyness. Why was he here? On
her
set. And why did it make her so damn unsettled?

“I don’t think anyone’s ever said fancy in reference to me before.”

“I imagine they haven’t.” In direct contrast to Heather’s acerbic tone, Natalia’s dripped with sugar and honey and all those sweet girly things that a woman put in her voice when interested in a guy.

Heather didn’t hide her eye roll. “Seth, this is Natalia Lowen.” As she made the introduction, Heather felt a sharp pain to the chest that she didn’t quite recognize. Maybe it was indigestion. Didn’t pregnant women get all sorts of heartburn?

Seth took Nat’s outstretched hand. “I know who you are, Natalia.”

Heather wrapped her arms around herself, trying to warm up from the sudden chill that passed through her coincidentally at the same moment that Seth’s gaze had left her for Nat.

“You do? I’m flattered…Seth, was it?” Did Nat just thrust out her chest? Oh God. She was already buxom. She didn’t need to thrust to flaunt it.

“Yeah. Seth Rafferty.” He winked at the young actress. “Nice to meet such a wonderful up and coming star.”

Nat blushed.

But before Natalia could respond with an equally flirtatious line, Heather cut in. “I’m going in my trailer. Interesting seeing you again, Seth. Nat, see you tomorrow.”

Heather opened the door to her trailer and climbed the stairs, forcing herself to not look back. And not to make too much from the fact that neither Seth nor Nat had acknowledged her departure. Inside, she quickly stripped out of her costume, stifling a scream of frustration that would surely be heard if they were still outside making eyes at each other.

What was with that anyway? Winking and smooth talking. Did Seth come on to every actress he met? He probably did. Isn’t that what any normal guy in his position would do? He was a tradesman working around beautiful rich women. A hot tradesman who turned Heather into a big doughy pretzel on the inside.

But that was beside the point. The point was she wasn’t special to him. That was fine. Seth wasn’t special to her either. Not in the least.

Except, if she had his baby…

Fuck it. She wasn’t thinking about that anymore. She’d deal with that if it turned out she was pregnant, not before.

She stripped down to her underwear then wrapped her silk robe around her, knotting the belt. Then she gathered her costume up to hang outside her trailer. If she didn’t, a costume assistant would likely come by knocking on her door while she was in the shower.

Or maybe that was just an excuse to see if Seth and Nat were still outside getting friendly.

She opened her door and found them where she’d left them. Neither of them looked up as she hung her costume on her door. They simply continued giggling and winking. Well, Nat was giggling, twirling her hair around her finger while Seth winked and nodded.

It was gross. Like,
make Heather puke
kind of gross.

Also, it made her indigestion worse, or whatever that sharp pain in her chest was.

And before Seth went spreading his seed with her costar, he should probably know about the seed he’d possibly implanted in her. Yes, she’d decided she wasn’t going to think about the pregnancy prospect, but she had a right to change her mind. It was a service to her fellow actress. Besides, she still hadn’t figured out why he was there. It seemed like a rather odd coinky-dink.

Without a second thought, she said, “Seth, can I talk to you?”

“Sure.” He didn’t move.

“In private.” She gestured inside her trailer behind her.

“I need to get changed, anyway,” Natalia said. “See you around, I hope.”

“I’m sure you will,” Seth said and an unexpected urge to kick him in the nuts washed over Heather.

She stepped inside and out of his way, holding the door open so he could walk past her.

“If you wanted me in your trailer, Heather, you know all you had to do was ask.”

She let the door slam, ignoring how giddy it made her to hear her name on his lips and paced back and forth a few times before turning and leveling a stare at him. “What are you doing here, Seth?”

“You said you needed to talk.” He leaned against the counter across from her as if he felt completely comfortable in her private space.

“I mean, on the set of this movie.” She forced herself to keep her eyes on his face and not on his thighs bulging through his tight jeans. His fucking gorgeous thighs.

“Working, princess. Just like you.”

And just as she’d been giddy at him saying her name, the return of his god-awful nickname for her made her slaphappy like a drunken teenager. She refused to let him see his effect on her, though, and kept focused. “But on
my
movie? That can’t be a coincidence.”

“It can’t?” Seth scratched behind his neck. “Hollywood isn’t really that big of a town.”

Of course he’d evade her. Like always. Talking to Seth was like playing a game of Ring around the Rosie. He liked to force her to be blunt. “I’m just going to come right out and ask—are you stalking me?”

“
Stalking
you? God, I forgot how high and mighty you were.”

“It’s a reasonable question.” Had he averted his eyes when he answered? Maybe that was her imagination. “Look, I’ve never seen you before in my life and suddenly you’re everywhere.”

“I’m not everywhere. Add drama queen to your list of personality traits.”

“Whatever.”

“If that’s all…” He straightened.

“No, wait. That’s not all.”

“What?”

“I have something to… Did you…I mean…” She stumbled over her words. As many times as she’d practiced this conversation, none of her lines seemed right. She put a hand to each temple and closed her eyes. “I wasn’t on birth control,” she spat out. She opened her eyes slightly, peering at him like she’d peer at a bad accident—not wanting to see, but needing to all the same.

“Okay.” Seth drew the two short syllables out, as if he didn’t know how to react to her statement.

“That night. At the hotel.” Was he purposefully making this difficult?

He nodded once, leaning back onto the counter. “I figured that’s what you meant.” His hand came up to rub his chin, which was stubbly from a long day on set. “What I can’t figure out is why you’re telling me.”

“Are you kidding me?” He
was
purposefully making this more difficult. He had to be. But if he wanted her to spell it out for him, she could do that and still keep her head high. Maybe.

“Seth, when a woman isn’t on birth control, other precautionary measures are needed.” She spoke slowly, as if explaining to a child. When he still registered no understanding on his face, she rolled her eyes. “I’m asking if other measures were taken.”

Seth laughed. A deep belly laugh that Heather felt vibrate in the center of her womb. Her face flushed, partly from embarrassment, partly from frustration. Partly from desire. God, this man was such an incredible ass. She’d been worrying and fretting about being pregnant for two plus weeks and here he was laughing at her.

And her stupid body couldn’t respond in any way but to want him.

Dammit, Seth had made her life such an incredible nightmare. If he wasn’t going to answer her, was just going to laugh at her, then she wanted him to go. Then she could cry out her humiliation in private.

She opened her mouth to tell him to leave, but he spoke before she could. “I shouldn’t be laughing.”

Relief swept through her. Thank God, he had a decent bone in his body.

He frowned. “I should be offended.” Her brows rose in startled confusion. “I just don’t know if I’m more offended that you think I wouldn’t use a condom or that you think we had sex that you can’t remember.” Before she even had time to register what he was saying, he backed her up against the stainless steel refrigerator, caging her with his body. His voice was gravelly, his breath hot on her face. “Because if we did fuck, princess, you’d remember.”

Her mouth fell open as she tried to sort out what he meant. “But I remember…”

“Yes, I went down on you.” His eyes darkened. “And you enjoyed it. And it was incredibly beautiful. Then I left.”

He left. Huh.

A sickening feeling rolled through her as she realized he hadn’t even tried to get on her.

“I left because I’d had too much to drink and you were passed out. Not because I wasn’t interested. I was trying not to be a total douche.”

She licked her lips. “But you were interested, though.” Why did she even give a shit? She should be celebrating her not-a-chance-she-was-pregnant status and move on. Instead, she was practically begging for him to validate his attraction to her.

“I left frustrated and hard as fuck. About as hard as I am now.” He pressed his body against hers, demonstrating his state of hardness.

She let out a moan. She hadn’t realized how much she’d yearned for that contact, to feel him and his desire tight against her. It was both heavenly and aggravating all at once. Like scratching at an itch that could never quite be satisfied. If he kissed her, that would help. She looked up at him, pleading silently for his lips.