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Jake tried to contain his laughter and failed. Another snort escaped, and he lowered the phone.
“What’s so funny?” she asked with mock sincerity.
“You said drilling holes and mounting and rear bracing in one sentence.” Jake chuckled again and tucked his hand into his pocket, shrugging his shoulder. “My sense of humor stopped developing at the age of twelve.” He pulled his hand back out and grimaced. “Ugh. Do you have a wipe?”
Frankie stared at him like he’d lost his mind. If she was being honest, seeing him out of sorts made her want to grin like a loon. She had the power to make him lose control, and she liked it. Now that she understood why he'd left her, it made her even prouder that she could get him to loosen up. His fancy clothes and carefully coiffed hair were just a mask he showed to the world, and she had the power to take it off. Who would she find underneath?
“Do I look like the kind of person who carries baby wipes?” She chuckled at his obvious discomfort.
“No, but a guy can hope.” Mouth pursed, he wiped his hand on his back pocket before adjusting the front placket of his jeans, pulling down and away. She'd bet anything he was the kind of guy who showered after sex.
Frankie set down the beam she was holding and crossed the small space to him. He watched her warily as she got right up into his personal space. “You seriously can’t handle getting a little dirty, can you?” She gripped the edge of his shirt and untucked it on just one side. How long could he tolerate the disarray? "Are you always this uptight?”
“I am not uptight,” he protested, tucking his shirt back into his pants.
Frankie countered by ruffling his hair against the part and laughing. He raked a hand through his hair to smooth it, and she untucked the tails of his shirt again.
“Sure you aren’t. Do you iron your jeans yourself, or do you send them out with your shirts to the dry cleaner?”
“It’s more efficient. I don’t have time to do laundry.”
“Hmm.” She stepped closer, running her hands under the shirt she’d freed. “You know what I think when you walk on set, looking all polished and professional?” She caressed his pecs, pinching a nipple before pressing her lips to the pulse at his throat. She smiled against his skin when she felt him purr beneath her lips. He was so damn fun to tease.
“No. What do you think?” he rasped out.
With a little bite that made him shiver, she released him. “That it’d be awfully fun to mess you up. You know what else?" She glanced over her shoulder as she turned away. "I was right.”
She crossed back to her tools, watching him out of the corner of her eye. He tucked his shirt back into his jeans, wincing. He ran his hands through his hair and fastened another button.
“It’s fascinating watching you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Put yourself back together. I can almost see you pulling your shields back into place.”
“Do it often enough and it becomes second nature.” He straightened his collar and began to unroll his sleeves.
She placed a hand on his forearm, stopping him. “Leave them. Explain.”
“I’ve been in the public eye since I was a kid. You learn really quick that everyone is looking for a story. The next juicy bit of gossip. The next compromising picture. You learn to keep your weaknesses hidden. Only show them what you want them to have.”
Frankie thought back over her life. The pranks she'd played as a kid, the stupid boys she'd dated as a teen, the occasional wild night out as an adult. And none of it had ended up splashed across the cover of a tabloid. How would her life have been different if she'd had to constantly filter herself? “That sounds like a terrible way to live.”
Jake shrugged. “If you can, you keep your outer shell flawless. People tend to believe what they see.”
Frankie touched a hand to his face, lifting his gaze from the floor to meet hers. She had so many questions. “Do you really have it all together all the time?”
“Irrelevant. I seem like I do, and that’s what counts.”
It's relevant to me.She began to see his choices and motivations more clearly.
“No wonder you like being a director now. You get to be in charge of crafting what everyone sees.”
He nodded, eyes wide and solemn, as if she was the first person to ever see that. “Exactly. And after a lifetime of practice, I’m damn good at it.”
“We wouldn’t have signed another contract if you weren’t," she said matter-of-factly.
“Thanks for that.”
