Naked Thrill

by Jill Monroe

  They chatted and drove for another forty-five miles, but finally Hayden could no longer ignore that breakfast had been several long hours ago. “I hate to say this, since we’re trying to get to Dallas quickly, but I’m really hungry.”

  “Can’t hold out?” he asked.

  “I get a little cranky when I haven’t eaten,” she admitted.

  “As cranky as when you don’t have coffee in the morning?”

  Any man who’d hang around after witnessing noncaffeinated Hayden in her prime was a keeper. “Maybe not that bad, but I still wouldn’t push your luck,” she shot back.

  “No worries. I could fill up the gas tank, too. Sandwiches okay? I saw a sign for a diner.”

  “Works for me.”

  They found the diner nestled between bay after bay of gas pumps for both cars and 18-wheelers. A true truck stop; Hayden was delighted. All kinds of knickknacks were for sale inside the gift shop, from shot glasses, T-shirts and silly magnetic signs the purchaser could attach to their car.

  “If they’d sold ladybug spots, we could have saved ourselves a whole lot of hassle,” he teased.

  Inside the diner, a sign invited them to seat themselves and they found a booth of worn turquoise vinyl in a corner. “This is just the kind of place my grandparents avoided,” she confessed as she reached for one of the plastic menus on the table.

  “We can go somewhere else.”

  She shook her head quickly. “No, this is great. Growing up, we didn’t have a lot of money for meals out. My grandparents believed if you were going to the expense of eating in a restaurant, it should be an experience. So they avoided fast-food joints and greasy spoons. They loved taking me out for different kinds of food. I was the only one in the fifth grade who knew what foie gras and couscous was. It wasn’t until college that I realized there was a whole new way to eat.”

  “The perfect truck-stop diner food is chili and grilled cheese,” he suggested as their waitress approached.

  Hayden folded her menu and replaced it inside the metal clip on their booth. “I’ll have that.”

  It wasn’t until after their waitress scribbled their order on a notepad and raced away that Hayden realized they’d been spending money as if they had a green bill gifting tree in the backyard. Tony had slept in his car to finance his films, and here she was blowing cash on designer jeans. But he didn’t seem to be doing so bad now.

  “After your first film, was it easier to get studio time and supplies?” she asked, though it was still tough to meet his eyes.

  The waitress set down two plastic glasses of iced tea. “Your food should be out in a minute.”

  “Thanks.” He smiled at the waitress, and the older woman shot her a look saying, honey, you done good.

  And maybe tonight she’d do even better.

  He nodded. “It got easier, and a lot more doors opened after the film was nominated.”

  “Nominated?” The man had been an open book, willing to share his secrets, and now she couldn’t get two sentences out of him.

  He rubbed at his chin, and then busied his hands peeling off the paper casing from a straw. “For an Academy Award. You hear this all the time, but it really was an honor just to be nominated.”

  She lifted her hands. “Whoa, hold up. Did you just say an Academy Award? As in the Oscars?”

  He grinned. “I have the tuxedo rental receipt to prove it.”

  “Oh, so it’s okay to offer up an interesting tidbit of information now that the big news has been released?” she kidded. Despite what he’d assured her earlier, she suspected he still harbored a secret or two. Then she laughed. “You rented a tux to go to the most important night in film? As if you were Oscar’s best man?”

  “I thought about buying one, but I’d have had to wear it every day for the next year to justify it. And I remembered not all my ideas are brilliant.”

  Man, oh man, why did she have to find his self-deprecating humor so damn irresistible? She was actually leaning toward him. Softening. And the closer she got to Texas, the more the real world intruded. She could reconcile herself to a few nights of fun, but things turned dangerous when emotions became involved.

  “Actually, it was for the best that I didn’t buy the tux because I haven’t been nominated since. When you’re not trying is when it happens.”

  Kind of like falling in love.

  Finding the right guy.

  Desperately trying to slow down time.

  Their waitress returned with their food. The grilled cheese was that perfect golden brown that made her stomach rumble. A pile of shredded cheese topped their chili. Granny and Grandpa had missed some of the simple joys in life by saving up and only going after the big ones.

  “You can make it up to me,” she said. “While our food cools, tell me every little detail. Don’t scrimp. I want it all.”

  “Sunday’s not the only celebration. There are all these parties leading up to it, especially the two nights before the actual ceremony. A lot of times that’s where the big deals are made, so even though the ballots have long since been calculated and triple-checked, there’s still work to do for filmmakers like me. It sounds fun and the glad-handing is important, but it’s not the kind of work I want to be doing or really enjoy. I have a lot more stories to tell.”

  Tony picked up his spoon and began to stir his chili, the cheese melting and becoming stringy. “I reminded myself to be cool. That I was a tough guy. I didn’t go to film school, winning an award wasn’t my dream. But then I got there and it was impossible not to get caught up in it all. Fans line the streets waiting to catch a glimpse of famous people, but they waved and cheered for me, too.”

  “Did you walk the red carpet?”

  He nodded. “In fact there’s two. One for all the really famous people and the press, and another for the rest of the nominees and their guests. But at the entrance the two carpets merge into one and we all walked in together. Backstage the wine flowed nonstop, but they would only let us get up or come back into the theater during commercials. The main thing I remember, because they said it over and over again, was to get upstage quickly, say something inspiring and get offstage even quicker.”

  “It’s a long night,” she said, and reached for her sandwich.

  “True, although being there, I was never bored. Of course I didn’t win, but because I was nominated I’m now in a position that I can make the movies that I want to make. How I want to make them.”

  “Don’t like people telling you what to do, I see.”

  He laughed. “Would have made life a lot easier if I had.”

  “Maybe not easier, just different.”

  “Spoken by someone who’s a bit of a stickler for the rules.”

  She made a scoffing sound. “A bit? More like a serial rule follower. When I’m driving, my hands are always at ten and two. I never stray to the left on a sidewalk and I stress about those plastic tags when I’m buying clothes.”

  “What’s to worry about that?”

  “I’m afraid that the person ringing me up will forget to take it off and I’ll trigger the warning system and the alarms will go off and someone will think I’ve shoplifted. Did you see that? I had a full-body shudder at the thought of living through that experience.”

  “So you being here with me...?” he teased.

  Hayden nodded and laughed at the same time. “Yeah, breaking all the rules.”

  “And how does that feel?”

  “Wow, you really can take it from laughing and teasing to full-on serious in a heartbeat.”

  “You’re evading. Is that a tactic that usually works for you?” he asked.

  Clearly the man wasn’t going to let her get away with not sharing. Damn.

  He rapped his knuckles on the table as if he’d just realized something. “You don’t like talking about yourself, do you? And especially about feelings, which is classic because you were the one hassling me earlier about men refusing to talk about their emotions.”

  Hayden shru
gged. “Kind of had enough of it when I was little. When you’re in the second grade and both your parents die in an accident, that’s all anyone wants you to do. Talk about yourself. Talk about how sad you are. Hayden yelled at another kid for taking her marker. Let’s give her a feelings journal. Oh, she doesn’t want to play dodgeball? Let’s send her to talk with someone. Like no one took it into consideration that dodgeball is the worst game in the world. Who thinks it’s a good idea to just line up and wait to be hit with a ball?”

  “So I shouldn’t take your markers, huh?”

  “Damn straight. Can’t guarantee I won’t yell.”

  Tony stretched out his hand and gave hers a light squeeze. Nothing long or drawn out, but it was nice. Uplifting rather than comforting. Connecting.

  “You don’t have that raised-by-the-state look about you,” he said, not letting the inquisition end.

  “No, my grandparents took me in. How could you tell?”

  “You have that...sheltered look about you.”

  “Great. That’s what I was going for. That or stick-in-the-mud.”

  A smile pulled at the corner of his lip. “No, I mean you don’t seem like a person who’s afraid to care. That’s a good thing, Hayden.”

  Was that the kind of woman Tony was used to? Had none of the women he’d dated cared for this man?

  “My grandparents took me in,” she repeated, talking so she could avoid thinking about what it would mean to care for him. She was about to start a new life that meant everything to her. And he was a wanderer. She’d be in a whole new world of hurt if she let herself fall for him.

  “Tell me about your grandparents,” he encouraged.

  “You can blame the sheltered look on them. They weren’t like those former hippies you hear about or see in commercials—they were old school.” Her heart warmed at the thought of their dear faces. Now gone, too. “Manners and respect were important to them. So were good grades, being in bed by nine o’clock on a school night and lots and lots of rules.”

  “So that’s where you get your serial rule following.”

  She nodded. “Yes, I came by it honestly, but don’t call me that as if it’s a bad thing. I’ve often heard kids in class saying, ‘don’t tell me what to do’ and ‘rules are made to be broken,’ which is all well and good a time or two, but you really can’t live your life that way. Where does it end? How would we know how to act?”

  His eyes narrowed and she couldn’t help but smile.

  “Take this situation, for example. You and me.” And yes, she would ignore that quivery sensation that was invading her stomach at the mention of Tony and Hayden as a we. “Things would be a lot easier right now if there were a few rules we could follow. It’s not like I can search ‘waking up with a stranger and no memory’ in Google and know what to do with a wikiHow picture explanation.”

  “But not following the rules is how we got into this situation,” he told her, his voice low and his gaze intent. “I’d never want you to regret me.”

  She sucked in a breath and dropped her gaze.

  “You really hate it, don’t you? Talking emotions.”

  “Have you spent a summer in Texas yet?”

  Tony shook his head.

  “It’s really hot. Weeks of triple-digit temps every day. All sun and no shade. Energy-sucking heat blasts you the moment you step out of your car. But for some reason, every retailer or grocery store cranks up the AC to a refrigerator-like temperature, so you walk inside and it’s this dueling sensation of intense discomfort and utter relief at the same time. That’s how this moment with you feels.”

  Tony began to laugh and the tenseness of the moment faded.

  “So no sleeping in your car anymore?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “Only if I want to.”

  And predictably Hayden’s mind conjured up images of her body entwined with his in the backseat of his car. Hot and sweaty, making out like teenagers with no place to go. She couldn’t escape the crazy hot pull of attraction. The carnal sensation he aroused in her was heady, electric and nothing she’d ever felt before with a man. She’d be adding “listening to that sexy voice of his” to her Top Ten List of All Time Favorite Things To Do. The scent of him was an assault to her senses. Even just an accidental brush of his warm body against hers made her shiver.

  Was he experiencing the same thing? Earlier he’d asked if she felt it, too. Boy, did she.

  “I keep thinking I should be shocked and worried about all this. I got a tattoo last night. I spent the night with a stranger, but I just can’t make myself get worked up about it,” she told him as she reached for her spoon. Then she stilled as a jolt of understanding made her pause. “Tony, that’s it! What if whatever we were given didn’t just take away our memories, but also took away the natural instinct to panic? What if it wiped away our nerves and the fear that holds us back from doing the things we want to do? I woke up in the woods, naked and in bed with a stranger with no memory of how I got there. There are scarier movies based on less. And yet, I never really freaked. I really should have freaked.”

  His eyes narrowed, but his gaze didn’t meet hers. As if he was running through the events and sensations of the night and day again.

  “I’ve always wanted a tattoo, but I was too chicken to get one because I’m a bit of a baby about things like needles and pain.” And things like making the first move, or telling a man she wanted him or kissing him as if she didn’t want to let go.

  Take the plunge.

  She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. With shaking hands—she was definitely not under the influence of anything now—Hayden stared for a moment into his brown eyes, willing herself to calm down. “I would have wanted you last night, and ordinarily I would have just...let it pass. Oh, I’d tell myself if it’s meant to be it would happen, but that’s just a very familiar excuse. You told me you don’t do one-night stands, either, so I’m thinking I must have done a few other things last night, and I’d really like to know what those were.”

  Tony leaned back against the cushion of the booth seat, his gaze thoughtful and probing. “So what would you do if you had no fear of the consequences or possessed any self-restraint?”

  “Clearly you,” she teased, and he choked back a laugh.

  Her smile faded after a moment, though. “But honestly, Tony, I think it’s more than that. Like I dropped the self-protection bubble and tapped into my primal instincts.”

  His fingers stilled her worried movements on the spoon, and he caressed the back of her hand. “Things you’ve blocked yourself from trying?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Things convention and society says we should never, ever do.”

  “Something experience tells us we’re not allowed to want,” he added, his voice low.

  “Last night I would have had no fear, and I would have wanted to feel everything.” She would have wanted to feel his muscles tighten and grow taut under her fingertips. Indulge in the rough texture of his tongue as he laved her nipple. Relish the sweet friction of him sliding, hot and hard, inside her.

  “Whatever you’re imagining, Hayden, you’ve got to stop. You’re killing me over here.”

  How must she look right now? Mouth wet and slightly parted. Skin flushed and heated because the blood inside her veins was pounding through her in excitement. Oh, yeah, he must have been able to read her like a book. The good parts of the book. Maybe fanning the back of her neck would help. Could she do that discreetly?

  Instead her finger grazed the chain around her neck. His eyes followed her movements as she traced the edge of the necklace and tugged out the key pendent that had settled in the V between her breasts. Focus. She was missing something here.

  Hayden fingered the pendant, running the pad of her thumb over the sharp cuts of the key and cool plastic casing at the top. “Why would I wear this as a necklace? It’s ugly. This is important—I know it. If it were just a key, I’d put it on my car key chain. Evidence notwithstanding, I’m very
careful with my keys.”

  “I’m very careful with my car, so yeah, I understand.”

  She tapped the plastic with her nail. “It looks like there was a number etched on this, but it’s worn off over time.”

  “That’s a locker key, Hayden.”

  She smiled in excitement. “You’re right! It’s another clue.”

  Tony nodded. “Whatever we locked up, we wanted to protect. But where can you find keyed lockers anymore?”

  “I can’t think of one. Not even the airport or the train stations provide them anymore.”

  Tony grabbed one of the paper takeout menus and bummed a pencil off their waitress as she passed by. He began to draw a makeshift map with one large X for the cabin, an E for the casino and a line all the way to Dallas. “According to the map Mike gave me, there’s not much between the Endeavor and Dallas but ranches and truck stops.”

  “You’re saying the club and whatever this key fits must be in Dallas.”

  “If not, I’m out of ideas. At least practical ones.”

  Because she had all kinds of thoughts about implementing impractical ideas. Tony starred in all of them, mostly naked. Mostly? Who was she kidding? Completely naked.

  “So last night we were up for anything.”

  “Probably the crazier the venue the better,” she agreed.

  Tony jotted crazy place on the menu.

  “Maybe places where a little PDA is frowned upon.” That little interlude they shared in the dressing room proved she’d apparently nursed a fantasy for nearly getting caught.

  He wrote down forbidden next.

  “Definitely things we’ve never tried before.”

  New adventure joined the list.

  “I’ll just stow away our menu of misdeeds.” He folded the paper and then angled his hips to slide it into his back pocket.

  “Menu of misdeeds, I like the sound of that.”

  He tossed his paper napkin onto his plate. “You ready?”

  She nodded and stood, and Tony left some cash for the bill.