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Shit. He forgot. She didn’t drink anymore.
“Anything else I can get you?”
Again, she shook her head and wandered over to the large windows that overlooked the lake. “It’s beautiful up here.”
He moved until he was just behind her and for a second, closed his eyes as that subtle, fresh scent that was all hers drifted over him. God, she smelled so damn good. She wasn’t covered in those heavy perfumes or expensive soaps that some women he knew wore.
Did they honestly think guys dug that shit?
“What are you doing?”
His eyes flew open and she was staring at him as if he’d just lost his mind—which, considering he’d just been caught sniffing her up like a goddamn dog, maybe he had.
“You know what? Never mind,” she said.
“You smell real good.”
Her eyes widened a little and then she licked that damn mouth that had been driving him crazy for weeks. She exhaled slowly and when she spoke, her voice was husky.
“Are you ready to get specific now?”
Shit. This was it. Crunch time.
He glanced over at the bottle of wine and wished he had time for a drink, but it wasn’t nearly strong enough. He had goddamn butterflies in his stomach.
Him. Beau Simon. Butterflies.
Jesus Christ, if Tucker were here, he’d be all over this shit.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and squared his shoulders, meeting her gaze as he considered how to start.
“Your agent says you haven’t accepted the role yet.”
Her eyes slipped away, but only for a moment, and then she sighed. “I’m still thinking about it.”
“That’s the part I need to understand. The role is perfect for you. This movie will make you a star, Betty. That’s not conjecture, that’s not me blowing smoke up your ass. That is a bona fide prediction.”
“I know, and I appreciate your enthusiasm,” she said softly. “It’s been a long time since anyone believed in me. But it’s a big step. There’s a lot to think about. Billie just had a new baby and things are chaotic at home. Bobbi’s crazy busy, running Billie’s hockey school and then there’s Dad. Gramps can’t be the only one responsible for Dad. It’s not fair, he’s old and, well, he’s got his bees to look after.”
“Don’t you have anyone else that can help out?”
“We have respite care, but it’s not the same. He’s not the same when a stranger comes into the house. It’s like he knows there’s something wrong, but he can’t quite figure it out.”
Betty parked her butt on the edge of the sofa and folded her hands in her lap. She surprised him, this woman. He thought she would have been all over the movie offer—anything to get out of New Waterford. But it hadn’t happened, at least not yet and he was thrown when he’d been told that she hadn’t officially accepted it.
Was there more? Another reason she didn’t want to leave New Waterford?
Something dug into him then. A worm that threaded its way through his chest until heat flushed his cheeks. Matt.
The worm twisted hard.
He was jealous as fuck.
“What about Hawkins?” he forced himself to ask the question.
Her head snapped up. “What about him?”
“Do you love him?”
