The Bliss Cove Boxed Set (Books 1-3)

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The Bliss Cove Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Page 43

by Nina Lindsey


  She held up a hand, amusement sparking beneath her glower. “Go away.”

  “The professor appears to be angry, perhaps because she hasn’t yet been successful in her foraging for lettuce.”

  He stalked around the desk, keeping the camera on her as she made faces and rolled her eyes. She was incredibly sexy with her hair tumbling from a messy knot. Long tendrils curled around her neck, and she wore a soft gray T-shirt that didn’t hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Or that her nipples were hard.

  “Hunger can arouse the ire of even the most intelligent of professors.” He zoomed in on her lips. She stuck her tongue out at him. “However, this one in particular can be sated with deep-fried pizza. Often her lowly mate will bring her an offering of junk food that he’s found in the wild, after which she allows him to bestow great pleasures upon her body.”

  Callie, who was attempting to look stern, let out a chuckle. “Does she reciprocate the great pleasures?”

  “Hundredfold.” Angling the camera on both of them, Jake leaned closer to her and spoke into the camera. “Observe the courtship dance of the love-struck actor as he attempts to lure the professor into the mating ritual.”

  He swooped in to kiss her, managing to capture her lips for an instant before she broke away with another laugh.

  “You’d better not expect to capture the mating ritual on film.” She pushed at his chest, her eyes twinkling.

  “Not a chance.” He set his camera on the desk and leaned in again. “Only you and me will ever inhabit that particular Wild Kingdom.”

  They indulged in a long kiss that ratcheted up the heat between them until Jake reluctantly lifted his head. “Speaking of great pleasures, there will be plenty more later. But now the coffee’s ready and I’m about to make pancakes.”

  “You’re making pancakes?” She lifted her eyebrows. “With what?”

  “Some kind of flour you had in the cupboard. And water. I threw a banana into the mix too.”

  “Sounds delicious.”

  “Only the best for you.” He tweaked her nose and straightened. “Eat my food, and I’ll leave you alone to work.”

  Callie picked up his camera, and they went into the kitchen. After determining that the pancakes contained coconut flour, Jake poured the mixture into the pan as Callie wandered around him taking photos and video at different angles, though without the narration.

  “Why don’t you use your cell phone for videos?” She put the camera down and hitched herself onto the counter to watch him flip the rather questionable pancakes.

  “For better quality footage.” He tossed the pan to flip the pancake in midair. “I have a digital camera for the same reason.”

  “Have you always been into photography?”

  “As a hobby, yeah. Videos more than still photography. I used to make home movies all the time, usually starring our dog or a bunch of Lego figurines.”

  “So movies have been a lifelong love for you. That makes it even more remarkable that you’ve made such a successful career out of it.”

  “I can’t imagine doing anything else. I wouldn’t want to.” He glanced at her, his heart suddenly hitching. “What about you? Would you ever want a different career?”

  She blinked, as if she’d never considered the idea. “No. I’ve been fascinated by Greek myths and history for as long as I can remember. I wanted to be a writer when I was a kid, and later I just channeled that into academia. I can’t imagine what else I’d even do if I wasn’t a historian.”

  “Did you always want to stay in Bliss Cove?”

  “Of course.” She rested her hands on the counter behind her. “It was a stroke of luck that I got the position at Skyline right when I was finishing up my PhD. If I hadn’t, who knows where I’d have ended up? Bliss Cove is home. My family and friends are here, and of course I was grateful I wasn’t all the way across the country after my father died.”

  “So you’ve never had the urge to live somewhere else?” Jake took the pancakes out of the pan and set them on a plate.

  For some reason, he was getting knotted up inside over her dedication to Bliss Cove. He liked it here and all—far more than he’d expected to, thanks to her—but staying was never his plan.

  “I don’t want to live away from my family.” Callie shrugged. “And I’m not adventurous, so…no. I’ve never wanted to live anywhere else. If I get tenure, I won’t have to.”

  He didn’t want to darken her mood by asking what would happen if she didn’t get tenure—not that that was even a possibility. He opened a jar of honey he’d found in the cupboard and drizzled a spoonful over the pancakes.

  After cutting off a portion with a fork, he edged himself between Callie’s legs. He loved the way she closed her thighs around his hips and stroked his chest, as if touching him were second nature for her.

  He held the fork to her lips. To her credit, she ate the offering without hesitation, pursing her mouth in thought.

  “What do you think?” he asked. “Can I now bestow great pleasures on your body?”

  “Well, the pancakes are terrible.” Winding her arms around his neck, she pressed her luscious mouth against his. “And yes, please.”

  “Excuse me.”

  Jake jerked his head up from his phone. He should know better than to not pay attention while walking down Starfish Avenue at ten in the morning.

  He stepped aside to let a woman carrying a toy poodle pass him. He gave her a nod of apology. She responded with a little sniff.

  He turned his attention back to the phone, confirming his lunch plans with Callie. They’d taken to eating lunch together for the past week, usually with him picking up takeout and bringing it to her office for a few stolen moments between classes and her frantic proposal writing. He liked watching her on her own turf—she was no-nonsense professional in her straight skirts and blazers, and she worked with a focused efficiency that fascinated him.

  But at night—that was when he had Callie all to himself. He lost himself in her softness and the hot press of her skin against his. He loved all the intimate things he discovered about her—the way she giggled when he nuzzled her bellybutton, her tight grip on his hair when he used his mouth to make her come, the arch of her body and little gasps that caught in her throat when she was close to the edge.

  In addition to indulging himself in her whenever he could, he loaded up her refrigerator and cabinets with actual food. He cooked dinners of spaghetti and meatballs, hamburgers, and cheesy macaroni.

  At her kitchen table, lit with a single taper candle, they had lengthy discussions about classic movies, pop culture, and mythology. He offered her dozens of examples of the intersection between ancient myth and contemporary culture, from music videos to Battlestar Galactica.

  In those moments, when they were either hot and panting between the sheets, or just talking and exchanging ideas, everything else fell away. He didn’t think about his career or what he was going to do next.

  He didn’t think about the press or the fact that they were losing their collective shit over the fact that he’d walked away from Fatal Glory. He didn’t think about the backlash waiting for him when he returned to Hollywood, or the number of texts and voicemails still piling up on his phone.

  All he thought about was Callie. And how much he increasingly didn’t want to leave her, not even for a single day.

  But he was no coward. He had to confront the storm—sooner rather than later.

  Stuffing his phone back in his pocket, he realized he’d passed the bookstore. Turning back around, he jogged the half block back to the bookstore and pulled the door open.

  Sam approached from the shelves, scruffier than usual in torn jeans and probably two-days’ worth of stubble. “Thought you forgot where you worked for a minute there.”

  “Got distracted. Where do you want me to start today?”

  Sam gestured toward several boxes sitting over by the window display. “New releases need to be shelved.”

  “G
ot it.” Jake went into the back to clock in and started unpacking the boxes.

  He worked setting up a display of the new releases and clearing out the older books. A fleeting thought occurred to him—regardless of how things shook out with his career, he could always leave the industry altogether.

  He had more than enough money to last a lifetime for both him and his family. He could pack up and leave his Laurel Canyon mansion without much effort. And he could move back here to work in a bookstore and live by the sea.

  Maybe with Callie.

  His chest constricted at the idea of waking up to her every day, coming in the front door and hearing her voice from the other room, even watching her organize her satchel for a day at work. He imagined claiming the right to kiss her every chance he got and to undress her at night. He wanted to tell Eleanor that he’d fallen hard for her daughter—that he was still falling—and to please believe that an action-movie star and a Classics professor were an incredible, shooting-star match.

  Could he walk away from Hollywood altogether? Did he want to?

  Leaving Fatal Glory was a relief now, but his feelings might change when the next movie went into pre-production without him. Especially if he didn’t have anything else lined up.

  He set another stack of books on the display. He’d wanted to be an actor since he was ten and saw Lawrence of Arabia at the Vitaphone.

  No, he’d wanted to make movies since then. A high-school drama teacher had steered him toward acting. Jake had loved the stage and he’d been good at his roles, which led to his move to Hollywood. If he hadn’t gotten his “big break,” he’d likely still be working on production crews. He wouldn’t have fame or money, but he’d have been happy contributing to the stories of the big screen. The movies themselves were still his first love.

  “Hey, New Guy,” Sam called from the register. “Someone here to see you.”

  Jake looked at a stocky, bearded man standing by the front counter. He froze.

  What the hell was Conrad Birch doing in Bliss Cove? How had he even known Jake was there?

  He stood slowly and dusted his hands off on his jeans before approaching the director. Conrad peered at him over the tops of his glasses, as if he were inspecting Jake through a microscope.

  “Conrad.” Smothering a rush of nervousness, he extended a hand. “What brings you here?”

  “You got a few minutes?” Conrad enclosed his hand in a meaty grip and slanted a wary glance at Sam, who shrugged.

  “Go ahead but don’t expect to get paid for chatting,” he muttered.

  “I won’t be long.” Jake gestured toward a small reading area set up at the back of the store.

  Conrad followed him and settled into a wingback chair with a grunt. Jake sat across from him, wondering if the director knew about what had gone down yet.

  “When my assistant called your agent, he didn’t seem pleased to hear from her.” Conrad rubbed his palms together and squinted.

  “Rich and I had a falling out.” Leaning forward, Jake rested his elbows on his knees. “If you haven’t heard yet, I decided not to do a seventh Fatal Glory movie.”

  “Oh, I heard. Everyone and their mother heard.” Conrad arched his eyebrows. “No wonder you and Richard fell out. You’re costing him a lot of money. Agents tend to get a bit upset about that, especially when they think a client is sabotaging his or her own career.”

  Jake tightened his fingers together. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

  “It may not be what you intend, but it may be the end result regardless.”

  Irritation prickled Jake’s spine. He wasn’t an industry neophyte. “I know.”

  “So why did you take the risk?” Conrad leaned forward, scratching at his beard. “Why walk away from a cash-cow franchise?”

  “To do something different.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Ah. Like Tom Dillon walks away from the sure-thing of his factory job in search of something he hasn’t figured out yet.”

  Jake’s stomach tightened. He met Conrad’s gaze. “Yeah. Like that.”

  “Tom is a lost soul. Even an empty soul, looking to be filled. On his journey, bit by bit, the people he encounters make him rediscover his own humanity.”

  “Because he wants to know what makes people live the lives they do,” Jake said. “Why they make the choices they make. And he learns that every life, every moment, holds something incredible. Like a seed. He wants to look at his own life that way.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Don’t we all?”

  A smile formed on Conrad’s mouth. “Tell me why you’re living in this little town that most people pass right by on the way to San Francisco or LA.”

  Jake studied his clasped hands, trying to formulate an answer to a question he’d been asking himself since the day he’d returned.

  “When my management team told me I needed to disappear for a while,” he began, “I knew it was risky coming to Bliss Cove. There’s a better chance of people recognizing me here than anywhere else. I knew that, but I still came. This is home. I needed to reconnect with who I was before Fatal Glory and before fame drastically changed my life.”

  “Did you succeed?” Conrad asked. “In this reconnection?”

  Jake shrugged, even as an image of Callie filled his head. He didn’t know if he’d reconnected with himself, but he’d connected with her in ways that blindsided him. Ways that felt like they existed beyond time, beyond all comprehension. All he knew was the aching pull toward her, the happiness he experienced when he was with her—and nothing in Hollywood had ever equaled the intensity of those feelings.

  “Who’s the girl?” Conrad asked.

  Startled, Jake looked up. “What girl?”

  Conrad chuckled. “The girl. I saw you with her outside an Italian restaurant yesterday.”

  Unease poked at his chest. “You were spying?”

  “Let’s not be dramatic.” The other man rolled his eyes and plucked a package of candy from the pocket of his leather jacket. “I wanted to see how you are in real life, so to speak. How you’ve been handling yourself here, what you’ve been doing. How you approach living as a regular man.”

  “So you’ve been spying on me.”

  “I’ve been watching you,” Conrad corrected. “Just for a couple of days. You move differently here than you do in Hollywood. Looser, less self-aware, more natural.”

  Jake had learned years ago that it was often better to avoid jumping in to fill a silence, so he waited for more. Conrad extended the small bag of candy. Jake shook his head.

  “And the girl…definitely not your usual type.” The director half-coughed and half-laughed before popping a lemon candy into his mouth. “Much more ordinary than Jessica Barnett.”

  Jake’s shoulders tensed. “Callie is far from ordinary.”

  “What about this?” Conrad circled his forefinger to indicate the bookstore. “Why are you working here?”

  “For something to do.”

  “You like to read?”

  “Of course.”

  “Not many actors do.” Conrad wiggled his thumbs in a pantomime. “Too busy on the phone. What’s the last book you read?”

  “Honor. By Lincoln Atwood.”

  Conrad studied him, his jaw working as he crunched through the candy. “What did you think?”

  “It’s not as thought-provoking as Truth, but it’s a perceptive insight into the lives of a small-town fishing community. Like a microcosm of society.”

  Conrad nodded slowly. “I was surprised when you expressed interest in Truth, but I was intrigued after your audition. Plenty of action or comedy stars have tried to make the transition to more serious roles. Most of them fail.”

  They could both name more than one actor who’d done exactly that. Most never recovered and faded into oblivion. Some went back to their stereotypical roles and gave up on anything else. Very few actually broke out and sent their careers into eve
n higher realms.

  “Your audition impressed me,” Conrad continued. “There was a depth to your acting that I hadn’t expected. It’s not as refined as the Blaze Ripley role, but you have potential. Potential I can help you develop.”

  Jake’s breath stuck somewhere in the middle of his throat. “And?”

  “This role is a risk for you.” Conrad narrowed his eyes. “Choosing you is a risk for me. But I’ve always felt mutual risk makes for the best chance at success in a partnership.”

  Though Jake sensed where this was heading, Callie appeared in his head again. Their relationship hadn’t started as a risk, but now? His heart was definitely at risk.

  He cleared his throat. “Risk can force both parties to put in their full effort.”

  Or to back off.

  “Your full effort is what I will be asking of you,” Conrad said. “More than that, even. Tom Dillon is not an easy role. Both he and I will push you past your limits. But if there’s any of Blaze Ripley in you, I’m confident you can take it.”

  “Are you offering me the role?”

  “I am.” A pleased smile split Conrad’s heavy beard. “Next Monday, I want you to do a few chemistry reads with Anna Lovell, who I’m close to casting as the waitress Tom falls in love with, but that’s more for her than you.”

  “I…thank you.” Jake sat up, rubbing his hands over his thighs. “I’m honored.”

  “I know.” Lifting his brows, Conrad rose to his feet and smoothed down his leather jacket. “I’m taking a huge chance on you. I expect you to give yourself over to the role in its entirety. To prepare by immersing yourself in research and vocal lessons. I want you to work with an acting coach whom I greatly respect. I want you to talk to veterans, learn how they think, talk, and walk. I want you to become Tom Dillon. Are you ready to work?”

  “Yes.” Jake stood, his insides flickering with a thousand emotions—excitement, relief, pleasure, a touch of wariness. “Thank you.”

  “I’d been thinking about you for a while, but when I heard you walked away from Fatal Glory, that clinched it for me.”

 

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