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Brit might be the professional actor, but Laney knew a thing or two. She managed to meet his gaze without flinching. “I’m not running away.” She laughed lightly. “It’smyhouse. I’m tired, that’s all.”
“And may I sleep with you?” he asked. “Emphasis onsleep?”
Laney swallowed, trying not to burst into tears. “The bed is tiny. You’ll be more comfortable in yours.” She paused, placing her hand on his cheek to prove she wasn’t afraid of him. “I hope you rest well. Good night, Brit.”
This time, Brit let her go. Mostly because he couldn’t bear to see that look on her face. Laney was fooling no one. If she’d had her way, she would have kicked him out of her house. He knew this beyond a doubt, but he didn’t know why. Not exactly.
As the hours crept by, he couldn’t blame his insomnia on jet lag entirely. His whole existence had been distilled into this one odd weekend. Saying a final goodbye to an old mentor. Reconnecting with the one woman who had ever tempted him with hearth and home.
He couldn’t just walk away from his livelihood. It was his profession. His only source of income. And besides, he had recently signed a lucrative contract that tied him up for a trio of films that might take him even further into the stratosphere.
Still, those dizzying heights were dangerous. Ephemeral. Being back in Blossom Branch held a mirror to who he had become. He was proud of most of it. And satisfied with the choices he had made.
Yet something was missing. He had known it for a very long time though he had ignored the jagged hole in the puzzle. Seeing Laney four years ago had triggered something in him, a need to bring his relationship with her full circle.
At eighteen, he had made the decision to follow his dream. Now he pondered the far reaches of that exercise.
When he couldn’t stay awake any longer, he crashed in his lonely bed in the guest room. The next time he surfaced, sunlight poured through the window. He hadn’t closed the curtains the night before. Truthfully, something else had awakened him. The smell of bacon cooking. His stomach growled audibly.
After a quick trip to the bathroom where he used a splash of water to slick his hair into submission and then brushed his teeth, he made his way to the kitchen.
Laney looked up when he entered. Her expression was natural this time. Welcoming. Not skittish like last night.
“What can I do?” he asked gruffly.
“Help yourself to coffee. I’ll scramble the eggs. Biscuits are in the oven.”
“You didn’t have to do all this, Laney.” He felt guilty. He didn’t want her waiting on him. He liked doing things for her, not the other way around.
She shrugged. “I’ve always enjoyed cooking. At least on the weekends when I have time. Do you want cheese in your eggs?”
“Sure...”
He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the small kitchen table, nursing the mug and watching Laney. She was a graceful woman. Serene. And so irresistibly feminine and sexy.
Five minutes later, she set a plate in front of him. “Don’t let it get cold,” she said.
Brit was starving suddenly. But he did wait for Laney to join him after she refreshed her own drink.
They ate in silence at first. The food was amazing. He wolfed his down and sheepishly asked for seconds of bacon and biscuits. Laney had cooked plenty, so he was able to indulge. Tomorrow morning, there would be nothing but airport food.
The silence threatened to become awkward, but when Laney finished eating, she sat back and gave him a gentle smile. “So where are you filming next?”
He relaxed. “Italy. Rome and Florence and then a rural location in Tuscany.”
Her eyes widened. “That sounds incredible. What’s the story about?”
“I play a private investigator working with Interpol to track down the perpetrator of a jewel heist. Everyone thinks the thief is a man, so the actual burglar is walking around free. She’s a beautiful woman who seduces me to keep from getting caught.”
Laney had been sipping her coffee, but she stopped with her cup in midair. “And then what happens?”
He felt his face get hot, which was dumb. It was just a story. “We fall in love. She doesn’t confess, but I finally connect the dots and realize the truth. I struggle with whether or not to turn her in. Before I can decide, she runs away. I find her, handcuff her and turn her over to the authorities. After a heart-wrenching goodbye scene, of course.”
“That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” Laney made a face. “Ten to one a guy wrote that script.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on, Brit. Men write those blockbusters where no one lives happily-ever-after.”
