To the Moon and Back

by Melissa Brayden

  She was being bossy again, and damn it, it made Lauren even hotter for her. “I love matching underwear sets, but I’ve never been able to master a thong.” She watched as Carly’s lips parted. Yeah, that one had affected her, and Lauren enjoyed the response. “Your turn.”

  “I’m wearing one right now.”

  Lauren squeezed the countertop behind her. Her body had been on high alert since they’d arrived at her place, but that last comment sent her to a whole new level of arousal.

  Lauren blinked. “I’ve always wanted to have sex in public but have never had the courage. Go.”

  “When I first met you, I thought you were uptight and a buzzkill. Your turn.”

  “When I first met you, I thought you were self-involved and overrated.” Carly’s jaw fell. “No judgment, remember? Your fact?”

  “But now, I think you’re the most intriguing, most beautiful woman I’ve ever been involved with.”

  Lauren sucked in a breath. Those words settled over her, and she felt like she might float away. She refocused, remembering the game. “I was wrong about you, too, and the sex dream I told you about? Impactful as hell. I still haven’t been able to shake it. Go.”

  “Whether it’s days, weeks, months, or years, I will probably think about undressing you until the moment I get the chance.”

  God, was her heater on high? Her cheeks were warm and she felt a little drunk on desire. “Kissing you in rehearsal is the best part of my day.”

  “Same. Staring into your eyes at the end of act one is everything. I always end that scene with a slight tremble because you affect me so much. That’s not acting. That’s you.”

  Lauren let go of the counter and took the two steps that brought her to Carly. With one hand under her jaw, she slowly kissed the woman who’d walked into her life out of nowhere and made her feel so much. Call it lust, infatuation, or even a damn showmance. It didn’t matter. Lauren felt alive, and that meant everything.

  “Look at that,” Carly murmured. She smiled as she kissed Lauren back. “We’re at it again.”

  Lauren pulled back in Carly’s arms and met her gaze. “It’s like you’re this magnet, pulling me in. I can’t stay away. Plus, these lips are addictive.”

  “The best part is you don’t have to stay away.” She caught Lauren’s mouth and melted into the kiss.

  That’s how the night ended.

  With kissing, more kissing, and a side of wandering hands. She walked Carly to the door, still touching her as much as possible. The small of her back, her hand, her cheek. The kiss at the door was the longest yet, and when Carly stepped back onto her porch, she glowed like an angel under the porch light.

  “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

  “Carly. Thank you for all of this. It was a fantastic night.”

  “For me, too. Maybe I can woo you again in the future? Maybe?”

  Lauren laughed. “God, yes. The more wooing the better, I always say.”

  “Good night, Lauren.”

  “That it was. Good night.”

  Chapter Nine

  Carly was half giddy, half terrified. The key lime yogurt she’d had for breakfast was a nice temporary distraction from the very big day she had ahead at work.

  They had seven rehearsals remaining. Seven. Luckily, they had moved to The McAllister’s main stage for the remainder of them, and that meant they’d have an entire set to get to know and work with. It also meant there’d be new spatial relationships and technical elements, like lights and sound, that would make their way into the show beginning today, during their ten out of twelve rehearsal.

  As Lauren had explained it, the ten out of twelve was for the addition and tweaking of each and every technical cue in the show. Each of the designers would sit in the house with stage management as they adjusted levels, intensities, and timing of each cue. They’d work ten hours out of a twelve-hour day, with two hours allotted for meals.

  “I can’t believe we’re finally here,” Kirby said, looking up at the theater’s architecture. It reminded Carly of a beautiful outdoor theater, complete with the illusion of a night sky overhead, stars and all. Cherubs lined the proscenium, and newly upholstered red seats filled the house. Nearly fifteen hundred, she’d been told. Kirby turned in a reverent circle. “I’ve wanted to work at The McAllister since I was twelve, and I’m finally here, in the room.”

  “Kinda makes you want to pinch yourself,” Carly said. Though she’d once underplayed the entire experience, Carly now understood how special this all was. She just didn’t want to do anything to screw it up, and there was lots to learn about working in the space.

  Lauren arrived with her bag slung over her shoulder, and Carly turned. If she’d been aware of Lauren’s presence in the past, before their date, she was hyperaware of it now.

  Lauren waved at the room with two hands. “Happy ten out of twelve, everyone.” She wore fall boots, taupe and up to her midcalf, gray jeans, and a navy hooded sweater. Carly blinked back a too noticeable reaction to how fantastic she looked. The idea that she now got to spend the rest of the day with this woman and would be paid to do so was a surreal concept. Her job certainly did not suck.

  “Did you catch anything I said?”

  She turned absently and looked up at Trip, who must have been speaking. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t.”

  He looked across the room to Lauren and smothered a knowing smile. “Right. Got it. Well, I was just offering to walk you through the different danger zones on set for when we go to black between scenes. I’ve marked them with glow tape, but you’ll want to be aware for safety.”

  “Good idea. Lead the way.” She glanced over her shoulder one more time to Lauren, who was busy signing in with Janie. For whatever reason, in that moment, Lauren intuitively raised her gaze to Carly’s.

  “Hi,” she mouthed.

  Carly offered a wave back. The connection from the other night was still in full effect.

  Bam. She smacked right into somebody. Tinsley. The set woman. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Carly said.

  “Yeah. Probably best to keep your eyes forward.” She flicked a look in Lauren’s direction. “Instead of over there. Make sure everybody is safe.”

  Carly offered a salute. “On it.”

  Tinsley tolerated her at a minimum. Carly was pretty confident it was because of her own interest in Lauren. Jealousy flared, and she quieted it. She had no ownership of Lauren, even if she secretly hoped she had no interest in Tinsley, or anyone else for that matter. One thing Tinsley had over Carly—Minneapolis. She was a permanent fixture. Carly wasn’t.

  “When you make this corner, be aware of the edge right here. Use the tape as your guide.”

  “Got it.” She followed Trip to their next destination. Carly generally considered herself a casual dater, never getting too serious, never demanding too much of the other woman. She was young, and out to enjoy herself. Why did this feel like the stakes were so much higher? A Tinsley in the mix should never have bothered her.

  “Any questions?” Trip asked. He looked at her. She looked back.

  “No, I think you covered everything. Very thorough.” She pointed at herself. “Impressed.” She realized, lamely, that she’d probably only registered about half of Trip’s instructions, which couldn’t have been good.

  It wasn’t.

  Two hours later, during a run of lighting cues, she slammed smack into an end table on her exit, which kicked her into one of those incredibly graceful foot shuffles, where you thought you might just remain upright, but no. “Ow,” Carly mumbled as the pain arrived.

  “Hold, please,” she heard Trip say over the God mic. The lights came on and seven different people moved to Carly, who held up her hand from the floor that she was fine.

  “I’m good. Just a very stupid exit is all.” She chuckled and tried not to point out that the front portion of her right thigh throbbed from the collision with the hefty end table, and the ankle on her same foot hurt from where she twisted it tryin
g to prevent herself from falling.

  In the sea of faces crowded around her, it was Lauren’s that pulled her focus. “Did you try to take that set piece out?” she asked with a grin.

  “I don’t really feel like it matches Ashley’s taste,” she said back with some sass.

  Lauren’s fingers went around her arm to steady her as she stood. “Seriously, are you okay?” The stagehands, seeing she was upright, stepped back.

  Carly nodded. “I’m an idiot, but I’ll live.” She leaned in closer to Lauren. “But I’m not going to refuse any TLC. I’m no fool.”

  “I’ll kiss it later,” she said back in Carly’s ear. Suddenly, this little injury didn’t seem like such an awful thing. Her ankle throbbed like crazy through the remainder of rehearsal, especially when she put too much weight on it, but she chose instead to focus on Lauren and their scenes together. Today, more than ever before, their onstage chemistry seemed to come clawing out of the dialogue. Ethan, when she encountered him, seemed on cloud nine about the show’s progress. It seemed like he couldn’t stop grinning, which made her feel satisfied with the work she’d done. They hadn’t even been in front of an audience yet, and Carly was already so fulfilled by this process.

  “How’s your foot?” Lauren asked, as they stood in the wings, waiting for the designers to be ready to move forward to the next cue.

  “I’ll be okay.”

  Lauren didn’t seem convinced. “You don’t have to be a badass. For someone so expressive, this is the time you choose to be stoic?” She tucked a strand of hair behind Carly’s ear. “Tell me where it hurts.”

  Carly melted then and there. She also dropped some of her pretense, because Lauren was becoming her safe place to fall. “I don’t think I’m officially injured, but I do think it’s going to hurt for a day or two. My ankle especially. I turned it weird. I’m thinking it’s probably a mild sprain.”

  “Carly,” Lauren said in the most sympathetic voice, “you need to take it easy, okay? I’m going to let Trip know you’ll be at half.”

  She put her hand on Lauren’s forearm to stop her progress. “No, I don’t want to be any trouble. I’m kind of known for it, remember? Let’s just get through today and relax with some pizza and beer after.”

  “We will definitely do those things, but in the meantime, you need to take care of that foot. I have your back, okay? This is a legitimate concern.” She took Carly by the chin and didn’t seem to care who saw. “You’re going to be okay.”

  Lauren left Carly in the wings, overwhelmed at how wonderful it felt to be looked out for, taken care of, by someone whose only intention was just that. Lauren was legitimately worried about her.

  The behavior continued for the rest of the day. Lauren arranged to have Carly sit whenever the designers got into a discussion that didn’t require the actors to stand. In fact, she ordered Carly to do so several times during their ten of twelve. She checked in on her with little questioning looks and offered her an arm for assistance whenever they exited the stage together.

  “Let me look at it,” Lauren said, during one of their official breaks. Sitting together in the greenroom offstage, Carly took off the shoes that were a part of her costume and allowed her foot to be placed in Lauren’s lap.

  “Oh, sweetie, it’s swollen.” Lauren ran her fingertips lightly over the puffy area.

  Carly relished the term of endearment. Lauren had never called her anything but Carly before. She liked the sound of it a lot. “Not looking too cute there,” she said of her ankle, playing it totally cool. “I look like a woman in her third trimester—if I was only pregnant on one side.”

  Lauren’s mouth fell open and she turned to Carly in amusement as if the most interesting fact had just occurred to her. “You would be so sexy pregnant. I hope that’s not out of line to say.”

  Carly liked that comment a lot, too. “Nothing you say to me is ever out of line if it’s what you’re thinking. I do want kids someday. Not today, mind you. But down the road. Once I’m a little more settled.”

  “Your kids are going to love you. They’d have the most fun mom on the block. I have a feeling you’d be out riding bikes with them until dark.” Lauren smiled. Her hair, which she generally wore straight, had a slight curl to it. The stylists were tweaking their looks for the show.

  Carly reached up and touched one of the dark lazy curls. Lauren had such soft hair. “Can you imagine?”

  “I can. Adorable.” Lauren ran her fingertips back and forth across Carly’s ankle and calf. The tickling sensation, and the fact that it was Lauren touching her, had her warm.

  “Thank you for being so nice to me.”

  Lauren offered her a soft smile. “It’s hard not to be nice to you. Believe me. I’ve tried.”

  Carly chuckled. “I remember someone yelling at me in my apartment. Holding their arm out in indignation.”

  “I wouldn’t say yelling,” Lauren said, closing one eye. She smelled so amazing.

  “Mm-hmm. I would. You’re very effective at yelling without raising your voice. You could teach a class: How to Shame People into Doing What You Want Without Doing Much at All.”

  “Oh my God,” Lauren squeezed her knee. “I could be a millionaire and buy the fancy house next to yours.”

  Carly laughed. “Then I’d have to buy binoculars. Do you sleep in the nude?”

  “Yes.”

  She froze. “You do not. You’re just saying that to get me all bothered.” But Carly still hadn’t moved. The sexy image was too much to let go of, so she awaited confirmation that it had, in fact, just been a joke, before real life could resume.

  “I’m not kidding,” Lauren said. She tickled the top of Carly’s foot.

  “Good God.” Carly fell back against the couch. “How am I supposed to deal with that?”

  Lauren laughed. “There you go, being dramatic again.”

  “What if I told you that I sleep nude?”

  Lauren threw herself against the back of the couch silently, mirroring Carly’s exact movements. Her face was perfectly red.

  Carly laughed this time and turned her face to Lauren’s. “See?”

  Lauren sighed. “I do now. I really, really do.”

  “Do you wanna have a quickie in the coat closet?”

  “What?” Lauren’s jaw dropped. “No way. That’s a scandal, right there. You Hollywood types, such a bad influence on the innocent theater folks.” But Lauren was looking at Carly’s lips with intent and gave herself the hell away.

  “Hey, you two,” Ethan said, as he strolled to the fridge. He pointed at Carly’s ankle that still lay across Lauren’s lap. “How’s it feeling?”

  “I’ll live.” She pulled her leg back and sat up, remembering Lauren’s advice about working on her professional side. “Just need to take it easy for the next day or so.”

  “We can make that happen.”

  Sally, the assistant to the costume designer, stuck her head into the room. “Lauren, can I borrow you for adjustments to your act two dress?”

  “On my way.” She gave Carly’s knee a slight touch as she departed, which gave Carly an uptick in energy. Everything about Lauren did. She watched her leave the room with appreciation. Lauren had amazing legs, and the slim black pants she wore in the show made that point over and over.

  “You’ve come alive on those boards. You know that, right?” Ethan said.

  She turned to him and refocused. “It’s starting to feel really good. If I can just avoid slamming into furniture, you know. Gonna practice at home.”

  “I think you should be proud of the work. Your portrayal is deep as hell.” Ethan turned a chair from the table backward and took a seat. She received feedback from him in their notes sessions, and during scene work, but they hadn’t touched base one-on-one in a while. She was interested in his take.

  “I feel it,” she told him, leaning forward on the couch, her elbows on her knees. “I don’t know how to describe it. It’s as if I’ve really bonded with this character. I
get her, Ethan, in such a crazy way.” She sat back and scratched her head absently as she sorted out her thoughts, reveling in the exhilaration of this rehearsal process. She’d never been so fulfilled creatively. “I understand what drives Ashley forward, and I love everything about her, as different as we are.”

  He nodded. “That’s all coming through. I knew we’d get there. It’s why I wanted you for the part.”

  “Thank you for giving me a chance. Not writing me off because I was an out of control brat.”

  He squinted. “You had me a little worried early on.”

  “Rightfully so. I apologize. I had a stage management team who knew how to handle me, though. Kudos to Lauren and Trip. I’m trying to be more aware of…others.”

  “It shows.” He nodded. “Speaking of Lauren, the onstage romance since recast?”

  “Yeah?”

  He shook his head as if in disbelief. “There’s such a specificity to it now.” He used his hand to make a mind-blown gesture and then opened the pop-top on his Red Bull with a crack. “I don’t know how we’ve gotten there in such a short span of time with you two.”

  She smiled at the compliment and understood that he likely didn’t realize fully what was happening offstage. She agreed with his sentiment, however. She felt it when they were onstage together. “She gives me so much to work off of. I feel like we have great chemistry.”

  “I gotta tell you. It’s never been more apparent than today.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what you two did differently, but if we could find some way to bottle it and save it for our audiences, I’d be elated. There’s a large amount of sexual tension there.”

  “You have no idea what you’re asking of me,” Carly said with a sardonic chuckle. She knew exactly what they’d done to create that tension—starve themselves of the one thing their bodies craved. Yes, they’d decided to wait for Lauren’s benefit and peace of mind, but apparently the show was reaping an unexpected reward. They were dying to rip each other’s clothes off, and somehow, that bled through to the characters’ relationship.