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I cling to him tighter as we descend, loving the weight of his body on mine as I sink into the mattress.
Completely boneless, I lay there, every cell in my body spent, and even more in love with this man.
“We’re gonna break some records tonight,” he says, rolling off me and onto his back, as listless as I am.
A tiny giggle is all I can muster right now, but I’m up for the challenge.
Rather, I will be in a few minutes.
He slides an arm beneath my neck, pulling me close. “Have you thought about where you want to go for our honeymoon?”
I snuggle in closer. We’d discussed a honeymoon, but there was so much to do with the wedding I thought it’d make sense to relax closer to home for a couple weeks.
I’ve also got plenty of Dallas folks blowing up my phone and email constantly, booking design projects. Soon it’ll also be time to fly to California for his new film.
“Any place you’ve dreamed of,” he tells me. “That’s where we’ll go.”
I lift my chin, looking at him with a smile. “Right here. Nowhere else comes close.”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “Then we’ll figure it out. We’ve got the whole world to enjoy each other’s company.”
Laughing, I scoot up and kiss his lips, running a hand down his hard, flat stomach.
He wraps my fingers in his and guides my hand down to his cock, leaving no doubt where we’re off to.
A month later, we’re in Hollywood.
I’m thoroughly enjoying being an intern of sorts on the set crew, helping decorate scenes to be shot in old homes, saloons, stores, jail houses, and a mass of other settings.
Yes, he’s doing another Western, but this time it’s by one of the best and brightest creative teams in the industry, or so he says.
I’m also amazed by the film process.
Mostly, though, I’m awed by my stunning husband. Ridge’s ability to read something once, and have it memorized, is truly astounding.
So is the way he repeats what he’s read with such passion and belief. He makes every bit of fiction come alive.
And when the cameras aren’t filming, he’s back to being himself, which is even better.
I’ve read the script. It’s compelling, action-packed, but there’s also a love interest for Levi, Ridge’s reformed outlaw character. It’s a small part of the story, but it still makes my stomach queasy.
I know Ridge loves me, but I know what it’s like pretending to be his love interest.
I don’t want anyone else having the honor.
Call me jealous. Whenever he breaks from scenes, I’ve got my lips on his, marking my territory for all to see.
“Grace, you’re needed in wardrobe.”
I fluff the pillows on the old bed I’d just covered with a patchwork quilt for an upcoming scene, and turn to the producer’s assistant, James. He’s older, with grey hair and more lines on his face than a road map.
“Wardrobe? Why?”
“For your fitting,” he says. “C’mon down!”
“Fitting for what?” I shake my head.
“Aw, Jesus, didn’t…” His wrinkles double as he frowns. “Didn’t Ridge tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Change of script. You’re making a special cameo.”
Instant goosebumps.
“Um, what? No, no way, I’m no actress.”
“There’s no acting involved.” James pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’ll see. Follow me.”
Ridge is still busy filming scenes outside, so I can’t ask him what this is all about. “Wait, how? What did he change?”
“Instead of him and Cleo getting together in the end, after he’s cleaned up the town, he rides away alone,” James tells me.
I know the scene he’s talking about. Cleo, the dance hall girl, is supposed to jump on the back of Ridge’s horse and they ride into the sunset together.
“When he rides off, that’s when the audience finds out that every time he looked at his watch, he was looking at a picture of you,” James says. “I like it. It’s unexpected. If the people behind his last movie just listened to his suggestions, the movie wouldn’t have flopped. This one won’t. I guarantee it. It’ll be a blockbuster.” He nods at his own affirmation. “Anyway, they need you in wardrobe for a dress to get some photos taken so we’ll have them for the watch.”
Ridge walks in just then, dust on his boots, jeans hugging those hips I know too well.
My heart melts at the sight of him for so many reasons.
“I was just telling Grace about the changes you made,” James says.
I nod.
Ridge’s eyes smolder, just like they do at night when we’re alone, as he walks toward me. My face tilts up as he arrives, fully expecting a kiss.
After I give him the sugar, he says, “I decided you’re the only love interest I’m having, whether it’s real life or make-believe.”
“I love you,” I mouth as our lips meet again.
After a kiss that leaves me wishing we were at the place he keeps in Malibu, the one his mother bought years ago and he still owns, he steps back and looks down at me with a broad smile.
