Star Struck (Lights, Camera #2) by Laurelin Paige-bilion (Page 21)

Star Struck (Lights, Camera #2)(21)
Author: Laurelin Paige

But what would she say if she talked to him? Did you use a condom when you screwed me ’cause I might be pregnant just didn’t seem like a conversation to have over the phone. The other things she could say to him—Can I see you again? Do you even want to? Those things took more courage to say. More courage than she had.

Yep, secret was out: Heather Wainwright was a big fat chicken.

So she hadn’t called him, leaving her distracted by him at the most inconvenient times. Like in the middle of filming.

And now, when she should be paying attention to her costar.

She glanced at Natalia out of the corner of her eye and noticed she seemed deflated. Shit. She’d wanted reassurance and Heather hadn’t given it. Sometimes she forgot that she was the old pro in the biz, that other people wanted her approval.

She pulled out her best smile for her costar. “Today was good, actually. You did good. Really good.”

“Thanks.” Nat beamed at the compliment.

Then she continued past her own trailer, following Heather to hers. Dammit.

Problem with being nice was people mistook it for friendship. All Heather wanted was to get into her trailer, change out of her costume, and get in a hot shower. Nat, on the other hand, wanted to be buddy-buddy. She leaned against Heather’s trailer, making herself comfy. “That’s too bad about the old Production Designer. But the new P.D. seems to be on the ball. My camera tests were really well organized.”

Don’t be a bitch, Heather told herself. It won’t kill you to be friendly. “Yeah, mine too. I’ve worked with Piedmont before. He has his shit together.”

Anyone who knew Heather and Natalia personally would laugh at the characters they’d been cast. Natalia’s personality more closely fit the sweet girl-next-door that Heather was playing. Heather’s diva reputation matched Natalia’s snotty character to a tee. Sometimes Heather found herself wishing she was more like Nat in real life—nice, kind, genuine. But that would require knocking down a bunch of walls and letting people in. How did Nat do that? Remain so unguarded and unaffected while working in Hollywood. She was a lot newer to the biz than Heather was. Perhaps that was it.

“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 ni**les 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?