by Laura Ward
“Did I ever tell you I think feet are gross?” I kept rubbing, but felt Reynolds’ body tense. “Yours are very pretty, though.” I winked and pressed on his arch. I wasn’t lying. I hated feet. As I rubbed his, though, all I could picture were my own feet curled around his in bed. Mother of God, get control of yourself, Liz.
Reynolds relaxed back on the couch back with his eyes closed and moaned. “Hell, woman. You weren’t kidding. You’re fantastic at that. Continue please.” His smirk was too damn cute. I pinched his big toe and kept going.
“Listen, Reyn, Cindy told me some gossipy ladies saw us at the grocery store, and the talk has started. I just wanted to prepare you.”
Reynolds sat up and swung his feet away. “Did you just call me Reyn?” he asked with bewildered amusement.
“Um…yes? I’ve heard Hayden call you Reyn a few times. I think it’s sweet. Is that okay?” I was worried I had overstepped.
Reynolds squeezed my hand and gave me a shy smile. “My mom calls me Reyn. She has ever since I was a baby. Reynolds is a family name on my Dad’s side, and she thought it was a mouthful. No one else, besides Hayden, and now you, has ever called me that.” He looked at our entwined hands and then back up to me, his voice husky as he murmured, “I love it.” Reynolds cleared his throat and I smiled. “Back to what you were saying…prepare me? I don’t care about gossip and rumors. I live with that every day. Are you okay? This’ll be harder for you and the boys. You know it’s going to get worse as the movie begins production and publicity, right?”
I tensed with that knowledge. In the back of my mind, I knew the possibility existed that this screenplay could become a real movie, but I hadn’t let myself absorb that concept. “Yeah, I’m okay. I just hope it doesn’t get too crazy out here in my neck of the woods. This little town isn’t built for that kind of attention. I don’t want anyone asking the boys questions or teasing them. Plus, nothing juicy has happened that they can report. We’re just friends.” That was my story, and I was sticking to it.
Reynolds turned me around so he was behind me and began rubbing my shoulders and neck. I groaned as my muscles unwound. Gone was the girl who would freeze and tense up whenever he touched me. Now I yearned for it.
“Damn you’re tight back here. You need to relax.” He continued his assault on my muscles. I moaned and closed my eyes, relaxing in his expert hands. He whispered in my ear as he rubbed my aching body. “Yes, just friends, that’s all. Nothing going on here. You’re just my friend, Elizabeth, who smells—” He inhaled the soft skin on my neck right behind my ear, and I shivered. “—so fucking good I want to lick her.”
Desire ripped through me like a wave building and crashing on shore. I turned around and looked at Reynolds. His blue eyes were darker as he held my hands in his.
“Reynolds…I can’t. I want to, but I can’t. I…”
“Shh, it’s okay. I know.” He leaned over and kissed that part of my neck he had smelled and a throbbing began inside me. I pressed my thighs together and bit my lip. He kissed my cheek, so very close to my lips. He rested his forehead on mine and drew in a ragged breath. “Tomorrow, ten o’clock?”
I could only nod as he got up and left. I sat back on the couch with my eyes closed and smiled. His kind of torture was delicious. The bastard knew what he was doing to me, and Lord help me, I loved every minute of it.
IT WAS FINISHED. We wrote a screenplay. Correction. We wrote a fucking brilliant screenplay. I looked one more time at the saved copy and then closed my laptop as I rushed into the backseat of the waiting Town Car. The hired driver would be picking up Liz next and taking us to our celebratory dinner. Dinner, not a date, she reminded me, when I came up with the idea.
Was it possible for stubbornness to be an aphrodisiac?
I had never been more proud of a body of work in my life. Liz and I had devoted ourselves to every detail of this story, and it was damn good. I couldn’t wait to send it to the producers I knew. We had decided to use a production company, versus me trying to produce this film on my own. The project had become too important to me, and I wanted it in the hands of people with experience. I was investing some of my own funds, however. I wanted to own it in every way I could and have the opportunity to control any changes that were made.
Out the window, ice covered the bare tree branches, and the wind howled. Pulling up to her house, I jogged to her front door, wishing my coat was thicker. The weather was brutal and winter hadn’t even officially started yet.
Before I could knock, Liz opened the door. Had I just felt cold? Heat flooded through me as I took in the sight before my eyes. Liz was wearing gray stilettos and the tightest, most body hugging purple dress I’d ever seen. I wanted to thank God, thank the clothing designer, and thank Liz at the same time, but I began with a less scary approach.
“Wow.” My eyebrows shot toward the sky as I took her in, and I clenched my hands at my side to keep from touching her.
Liz laughed and turned around in a circle, causing an even stronger reaction in my pants. Only a matter of time when I was around Liz anyway.
“Please be honest with me. Cindy convinced me to buy this. Is the dress too tight? Too young? Just too much?” Liz pulled the end of her hot little number down, and I fought away my rude yearning to swat her hands off. Lord, woman. Leave that dress alone. If it wants to be short, please for the love of all things that have to do with your legs, let it. Again, I went with a less scary response.
“No. No way.” I swallowed loudly and cleared my throat. “It’s good. Very nice.”
Liz laughed at me again. “I don’t know, all I’ve gotten from you is wow, good, and nice. You’re freaking me out. You’re usually very verbose.”
This time I laughed. I rubbed my hands over my face and tried to pull myself together. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to scare you. You can be a little skittish.” Liz walked closer to me and took my hands in hers. I lifted them to my mouth and kissed her knuckles. “You’re exquisite. Please, let me take you to dinner.”
I helped her with her jacket, and we hurried out to the car. We were having dinner at Liz’s favorite restaurant, Woodberry Kitchen. The place was known for fresh, seasonal farm-to-table food. Liz had told me about it when I asked her to pick a place for our celebration dinner. I could have eaten carryout pizza from Strapasta for all I cared. Dinner alone with Liz was what mattered to me.
“Where are the boys tonight?” I held her hand in the car, needing to touch her in some way. I wanted to touch her all over, but I tamed the beast inside me and threaded my fingers through hers. Having a physical connection with her both excited me and calmed me. The combination was one I had never known before.
“My parents took them overnight. The boys love being there and they especially enjoy eating Pop-Tarts for breakfast, candy before dinner, and soda whenever. Sleepovers with Nana and Papa are the anti-Mom experience.” We both laughed and then sat in comfortable silence, looking at the starry night sky.
I turned toward her, wanting to say so many things at the same time, but settling for the most benign. “Thanks for celebrating with me tonight. We finished this sooner than I thought. I can’t wait to share this with my industry guys.”
Liz squeezed my hand. “I wanted to say this to you before we’re in public and I lose my nerve.” She paused and took a deep breath, her eyes holding mine. “What you have done for me, Reyn…I can’t thank you enough. Whether this screenplay is successful or not, you’ve helped me find myself again. I didn’t think I’d enjoy anything after Jack died, but I’ve loved every second of working with you. Thanks for taking the chance on me.” Her voice faltered at the end, and my heart swelled.
I opened my mouth to speak just as we pulled up to the restaurant entrance. Before I could say anything, the valet opened my door. I shot the guy a you-have-the-worst-timing glare and plastered a smile on my face as I moved out and extended my hand to Liz. She exited the car with grace, and we walked inside, hoping to avoid any public scrutiny.
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“I tried to get us a private table, but this place is so popular.”
“I’ve only been here once before and it took four months to get a reservation.” Her face lit up as her eyes glanced around the room. “The space is beautiful, almost like an urban barn. I can’t believe you got us in here on such short notice. You did good.”
“Well, let’s see how good I did.” We stepped up to the maître d. “Yes, I have a reservation, Mike Stevens.” My publicist always used the same fake name for me when making reservations.
“Right this way, Mr. Stevens.”
We walked through the restaurant and I took Liz by the hand and winked. “Let’s see what my publicist was able to get us.” She squeezed my hand in a way that said it all. It didn’t matter.
We were seated at an intimate table in a smaller section of the restaurant. As soon as we had our menus and ordered our drinks, the attention of the other patrons increased as murmurs circulated and necks stretched to check and see who it was that they recognized.
I was used to the attention. I had found it was best to ignore what was happening around me. Liz watched me closely and leaned over with a whisper. “Switch chairs with me. Then your back will be to the room.”
She was worried about me. Right then and there, I wanted to tell her how much I loved her, but I stopped myself. “I’m not worried about me. This is my life. I don’t want you touched by this craziness.”
She smiled shyly and reached over to hold my hand, but I shook my head and moved my hands to my lap. She looked down at the table with her brows pinched. I wanted to knock the table over, kiss her and tell her that I wanted to hold hands, and holy God so much more. But then she looked up, her face relaxing, and smiled, giving me a quick nod of understanding.
We ordered our meals and sipped our drinks, laughing about Hayden’s antics last weekend while riding horses. I wanted to address what she had told me in the car, but I wasn’t sure where to start.
“What you said before in the car wasn’t correct. In fact, you’ve never been more wrong.” I winked at her playfully. “You took the chance of a lifetime on me. You’ve helped me discover the man I want to be. I could’ve never guessed that a complete stranger could be the answer to all the questions I’ve had swimming around inside of me. So I need to thank you.”
Liz leaned closer to me, ensuring privacy as we talked. “I guess we’ve helped each other, then.” She spoke softly and my heart felt like it was galloping across my chest. I clenched my hands together, reminding myself that I could not pull her onto my lap.
“I started off this project to get away from Kylie and her drama, and to get a fresh start. Meeting you and learning what you went through, hit me hard. I hate that you had to endure such violence and despair in your life.”
Liz looked down for a moment, appearing to search for the right words. “Cindy once told me that as much as the pain hurts us, it’s that pain that marks us; it brands us as changed. That mark, that branding, shows we’ve grown and adapted, and God willing, we emerge stronger. I’m stronger now than I’ve ever been before. I think this is the first time I’ve recognized that.” She lowered her voice to a whisper again. “You have helped me recognize that.”
I looked into her eyes and then down to her lips. We each leaned in closer, our lips almost touching, when the lights from a camera flashed behind Liz. We jolted apart from the intrusion, and Liz angled her chair away from mine again. I mouthed sorry to her, but she shook her head. Our food came a moment later, so we ate, quiet with our own thoughts.
She was right, or really Cindy was. I had been marked by my past. Not in any way as tragic as Liz’s pain, but I made my own mistakes in life. Those experiences in my relationships, or lack thereof, branded me, they would always be with me. They made me who I was, and I was stronger for it. Because of those experiences, I also knew now exactly what I wanted.
And I wanted Liz Atwater.
REYNOLDS SETTLED OUR bill, and I looked down to see our server had also slipped a paper to him with her phone number. At first I was pissed, but we weren’t dating. He was known to be single.
He was single.
We were just friends.
Absolutely.
I reminded myself of that on a regular basis.
Reynolds texted our driver to meet us out front, and we attempted to leave the restaurant discreetly.
That was a fail.
The moment we stepped outside the doors of the restaurant, we were swarmed by paparazzi. The lights flashed in my face, blinding me as reporters shouted out questions in rapid-fire succession. Pushing through the crowd, hands grabbed at us, cameras were shoved in my face, and my legs buckled as an uncontrollable shudder raced through my body. Reynolds pulled me into him and wrapped his arms around me, shielding me from the lights and on-lookers. The walk from the restaurant to the car was all but ten feet, but it seemed like the distance had stretched for miles. Despite the whirling lights and shouts, I felt safe in his arms.
Reynolds ignored what was being yelled at him:
“Why are you in Baltimore?”
“Is this your new girlfriend?”
“Is she your baby mama?”
“Where’s Kylie?”
“Are you cheating on Kylie?”
“Is this your mother?”
Okay. That last one hurt. Reynolds urged me into the car and shut the door behind him. The driver sped off, and we both gasped for air. Reynolds raised the privacy screen and turned to me, grasping my face in his hands as we exited onto the Jones Falls Expressway.
“Are you okay?” He rested his forehead against mine until my shaking subsided and our breathing slowed. “I should have brought Tim with us. Dammit. He would’ve known what to do. I'm such an idiot. Tim always goes with me in public. Liz, I'm so sorry. I didn't think I needed him here.” Reynolds threw his head back on the seat and covered his face with his hands. “Shit, I'm so sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” I whispered, tears filling my eyes as I watched him beat himself up over something that was not his fault.
“You aren’t hurt?” He leaned toward me and moved his large thumbs over my cheeks. As scary as that experience was, my body was over it. His simple strokes had my heart racing, heat coursing through my veins.
“I’m not hurt.” I brought my hands to his cheeks and timidly ran my fingers around his face. “You protected me.” He closed his eyes. The car was filled with our silent intimacy.
“You’re okay. Thank God, you’re okay. I’m so sorry I exposed you to that. Never again. We’ll eat in private rooms, or I’ll hire a chef….Wait, are you crying?” His voice cracked when his thumbs touched the dampness on my cheeks.
I took a labored breath. “They thought I was your mom!” I cried and laughed at the same time, looking down at the floor. I had really tried this time. New clothes, make-up, hair styled.
“Aww, hell, Liz. No.” Reynolds scooped me onto his lap and stroked my hair. “No one in that entire restaurant thought for one minute that you were my mom. That’s how paparazzi work. They search for anything they can to make you mad. They yell that out, hoping for a response. They want to say something that will make you look at them so they can take a picture that they can sell to the tabloids. We pissed them off by ignoring them.”
I looked out the window as cars raced by. How did I explain my feelings to him? Embarrassment washed over me at the idea of saying it out loud. For so many years, I’d chosen yoga pants with the forgiving elastic waist over skinny jeans. I was a mom first and a woman second. Now after losing weight and dressing myself to the nines on the outside, I feared I was no different inside. Was I still only the reliable and dependable mom, and not the sensual and desirable woman Reynolds deserved? I didn’t know how to find that piece of me.
“You should be hanging out with someone like Kylie.” My eyes brimmed with hot tears of shame and insecurity. “Someone young, beautiful, and sexy…someone who can keep up with you and isn’t mistaken for your
mother.” Reynolds’ body went rigid against mine. His anger from my words enveloped me. He held my face in his hands as his eyes met mine.
“Elizabeth.” His voice was icy, and he gritted his teeth. “I’m here with you because I’m crazy about you. Sometimes I think everyone knows this but you. You’re hung up on the fact that you don't think you look the part?” He closed his eyes and tears slid down my cheeks. He was right. Why was I doing this to myself? To us?
“One day, you’ll be ready for me. When you are, have no doubt I’ll be waiting for you.” He swallowed, trying to calm his exasperation and ran his hands all over my arms and back. I wasn’t sure if he was soothing me or himself, but he was so damn hot when he was angry. “And when that day comes, I’ll show you exactly what you do to me and how much I crave you.”
A shiver ran down my spine. I opened my mouth to interrupt, but he put a finger to my lips, his eyes fierce. “Not a word. Not one more word. I’m going to prove to you once and for all what you do to me. I so fucking am.” He pressed me against him, and I bit my bottom lip, suppressing a moan when I felt his impressive erection.
He moved his lips to my ear and growled, “Just tell me when.”
“THE ROADS ARE clear enough for me to run, thank you, Jesus.” Liz giggled, and I laughed into the phone. December had ripped through Maryland with a vengeance. Each day had been bitterly cold. The freezing rain and snow had disrupted school openings and worse, Liz’s running. She could be pretty fucking grumpy when she missed a run. Even still, I loved her. She was who she was, no pretenses or apologies. Nothing about Liz was fake. She was as real as it gets.
“Be careful out there. I’ll head over to your place when you come back.” The plan was to meet so we could send the screenplay out together. Then I could start the meetings with producers and casting agents. I was pumped, but I was also apprehensive. I would need to be in L.A. for meetings, and then I would be on set wherever we shot the movie. Liz would join me for some final meetings, and I hoped she would come to the set sometimes, but with the boys’ schedule, it would be tough.