by Melody Grace
“Sounds good,” I smile, relieved. I finally tear myself out of his arms and scramble out of bed. It’s cold, so I hurry to grab underwear and clothes for the day ahead.
“Take your time, baby,” Blake’s voice comes, and when I turn, he’s lounging with his arms behind his head, an admiring grin on his face. “I’ll just be right here enjoying the view.”
I laugh, tossing my T-shirt at him. I could say the same: he looks like a golden god against the white linens, gorgeous enough to tempt me back into bed.
Almost.
I pull on a bra and sweater, and wriggle into my jeans. “Come on,” I tell him. “I’m hungry. Someone helped me work up an appetite…”
Blake laughs and gets out of bed. “Get used to it, baby.” He yanks me against him, his hot stare enough to melt me from the inside out. He leans in, slowly sliding his hands over my waist as his lips whisper up my throat. “You’re going to need your strength. Because I’ve got plans for you yet.”
I don’t know how I manage to get myself together and get out of the room before I throw myself back in bed crying “take me now,” but somehow I manage to brush my hair and slick on some lipgloss and tug a now-clothed Blake out onto the stairs. “Shh,” I murmur, as I creep down. “I don’t want Mrs. Olsen knowing—”
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
Her bright voice cuts me off before I can sneak him out the front door. I cringe, turning to where she’s waiting by the kitchen. Her gaze lands past me on Blake. She arches an eyebrow.
Oh crap.
But I haven’t reckoned on Blake’s charm. “Blake Callahan, a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” He quickly steps forward, holding his hand out to shake. “Are you the one to blame for all those delicious scones? My trainer is going to have words for you,” he adds, with a trademark grin.
Mrs. Olsen blushes. “It’s nothing. Are you both heading out? I’m just making a batch of waffles, if you’d like.”
Blake’s eyes light up. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Then you get in the kitchen,” she says, ushering him back. “And I’ll put some bacon on the grill too.”
I follow, relieved she’s not offended by me having an overnight guest. But Mrs. Olsen doesn’t seem to mind at all, and soon we’re sitting around the kitchen table while she piles our plates high with food.
“You definitely got the five-star deal,” Blake says enviously, wolfing down a second portion of waffles. “Dex can barely keep the cupboards stocked with cereal, he’s living on takeout while Alicia is away.”
Mrs. Olsen tuts. “A strapping man like you needs a proper meal. Come by the diner tomorrow, I’ll be making my famous meatloaf.”
“An offer I can’t refuse.”
I relax, enjoying the food and Blake’s conspiratorial smile across the table. “How long have you been running the B&B?” I ask, when finally Mrs. Olsen takes a seat with us and sips her cup of tea.
“Oh, going on fifteen years now,” she smiles. “My family wanted me to retire from running the diner when I started having trouble with my hip, but I had too much time to myself. I said, ‘What are you going to do, sit around and knit all day?’ So I opened up this place.”
“Is your family still in Beachwood Bay?” I ask, curious.
“No, my boy left for college and never looked back.” She gives a doting smile. “I have three grandkids now, all high-flyers, barely a moment to themselves.” She shakes her head. “My Noelle is the one who likes to come visit. She’s the youngest, about your age,” she nods at Blake. “Works as an attorney at a big firm in the city. Glued to her cellphone, these days. I tell her, you’ll work yourself into an early grave racing at that pace for too long. But she won’t listen,” Mrs. Olsen tuts again fondly. “You kids don’t realize if you don’t take a moment, life will pass you by.”
Blake meets my eyes over the table. He smiles, amused by her stories, but the affection in Mrs. Olsen’s voice makes me feel a wistful pang. I never had much family: my parents were only children, and my grandparents either passed away or live on the other side of the world. Sitting here, listening to her stories, makes me wish I’d had a Mrs. Olsen of my own. Even though it’s early, her grey hair is elegantly styled and she’s wearing a matching sweater set and skirt. The only eccentric touch is the pair of baby blue Uggs on her feet.
She catches me looking and laughs. “What do you think? They were a gift from Noelle last year. She says they’re the warmest things around.”
“I like them.” I smile, then catch sight of the time. “We’re due on set in five! I’m so sorry, we have to go!”
Blake hurriedly stuffs the last of his waffles in his mouth and pushes back his chair. “Thank you for breakfast,” he adds, ever the gentleman. “You’ve made a hungry man very happy.”
Mrs.Olsen blushes again. “Get on with you,” she says, shooing us out. “And take some muffins for the road!”
Blake sinks back in the passenger seat with a groan. “I’m lucky I don’t have a love scene today,” he says, slapping his stomach. “That woman is the devil. I won’t be able to move for days.”
I laugh, starting the engine and backing out of the drive. “Isn’t she the best though? I bet she’s seen everything, living in this town for so long.”
“It must be nice, putting down roots like that; everyone knowing your name,” Blake agrees.
“Is small-town life calling your name?” I tease, as the wintery landscape speeds past outside the car windows. “First Dex, then Tegan… Soon all you Callahans will be taking over Beachwood Bay.”
Blake shakes his head. “Maybe for vacations, but I need to be in LA for my career.”
I pause, giving him a careful glance. “So you’re not giving up?”
Blake shakes his head. “No, I’m not a quitter. I never really meant it, I guess I over-reacted. I’m sorry about unloading everything last night,” he adds, taking my hand. “It just hit me hard, you know?”
“I know.” I squeeze his hand back. “And there’s nothing to apologize for. I’m here whenever you need to talk, good news or bad.”
Blake’s smile turns quieter. “It might take me a while,” he murmurs. “I guess I’m not used to sharing the bad stuff with anyone.”
“You think?” I tease, lightening the mood. Blake gives a rueful laugh.
“Quit it, woman.”
“Oh, you did not just call me woman,” I protest, laughing. We’re both still giggling when I pull into the parking lot by the house location we’re filming at today. It’s busy, with crew unloading the trucks and setting up.
I park and get out of the car, feeling a flicker of nerves in my stomach. I can see Kira barking orders into her walkie-talkie and Lila getting primped on the porch.
“Ready?” Blake’s voice comes at my side.
“Ready for what?” I ask, before he gives me a mischievous grin.
“Our first day as an official couple.”
I flush. “It’s OK, we don’t have to make a big deal about it,” I protest, feeling embarrassed. Maybe I’m just being high school about it, wanting to show off my new boyfriend. I should be cool and casual, right?
“Are you kidding?” Blake smirks. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
Then, before I can protest, he sweeps me into his arms and dips me, almost to the ground. He kisses me long and slow until my head’s spinning, and I can barely hear a thing over the sound of my thundering heartbeat and the whoops and applause from the crew.
Blake lifts me back up and sets me on my feet. I gasp for air.
“That ought to do it,” he winks. “See you later.”
He strolls off, hands in pockets, leaving me red-cheeked and reeling. I catch whispers and gossiping looks from people around me, but I don’t care. I’m on top of the world.
“Zoey!” Kira materializes by me, making me jump. “I need these faxed to the office back in LA, the lighting trucks moved, and for you to tell me exactly what that was all about.” Her eyes glitter with mirth. �
��Spill, now!”
***
News travels fast on a small movie set, and by lunch, I’m certain that everyone knows about me and Blake. But aside from a few gossiping looks and whispers, everyone just gets on with their job. We’re not the only ones who’ve hooked up: a couple of the supporting actors got together the first week, and the crew has been pairing off left and right all month. I guess out here away from normal life, sparks fly easily.
Still, it’s a relief to have everything out in the open. To exchange a quick kiss with Blake before his scene—and be able to openly admire him in action without worrying someone will figure out how I feel.
I stand on the sidelines as Dash sets Blake and Lila up for the scene. They’re in the front yard of the cottage: a front yard that has been manicured within an inch of its life, with pretty wildflowers and deliberately-planted weeds. It’s clouded over, but the lighting rigs and reflective sheets make it look like a hot summer’s day. Dash talks them through the script, and Blake nods, totally focused on the job.
I love watching him at work. It’s a whole different side to him, the charm and easy humor stripped back to pure concentration. It’s why I know that for all his disappointment over the early bad reviews on Judgment Day, Blake won’t quit. He can’t. He’s worked too hard, and he loves it too much to just walk away. He’ll put one hundred percent into this movie, because that’s just who he is.
And now I’m invested too. Not just for Blake; he might have been the reason I came to Beachwood Bay in the first place, but now the work I’m doing is for myself. Every day on set I’m learning something new, and it’s been amazing to see behind the scenes and how much goes into creating the movies I love. I’m already considering my next step once we wrap production: moving to LA, maybe, and trying to get another job as an assistant or intern on a new movie.
Which would have the added bonus of being close to Blake…
“Stop perving over my brother!” Tegan’s voice makes me jump. She hugs me from behind, giggling.
“Shut up, I’m allowed,” I laugh, pulling away. “Don’t tell me you don’t drool over Ryland every time he lifts some heavy piece of timber.”
Tegan laughs. “You’re right, I do. The only good thing about this renovation taking so long is all the hot, sweaty lifting he’s doing.”
She claps her hands together. “So, plans?” she demands, looking excited. “What do you want to do tomorrow? Are you working? How much time do we have?”
“Time for what?” Blake saunters over, joining us.
“The birthday girl!” Tegan announces. I groan.
“Wait, what?” Blake turns to me. “It’s your birthday?”
“Tomorrow,” I admit. “But it’s nothing. Please, I don’t want to make a big deal.”
“You always do this!” Tegan protests. “C’mon, birthdays are for celebrating, the glorious day twenty-two years ago when your parents graced this great earth with your presence.”
“Dramatic much?” I counter, but the Callahan siblings are in full swing.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Blake wraps me in a bear hug from behind. “How am I supposed to shower you with surprise gifts if I don’t have a little warning?”
“OK, OK!” I cry, trapped between them. “We can celebrate. A tiny, casual celebration,” I add, warning them. “Low-key. No balloons.”
Tegan pouts. “So no massive surprise party then?”
I shake my head. “Who would you even invite? Promise me, nothing crazy,” I add. “You know I’ll just get all awkward and self-conscious. There’s a reason I don’t tell anyone. I hate birthdays.”
“Fine,” she sighs. “I promise. But you better prepare for something fun!”
She hugs me and then hurries off, hopefully to plan a casual, tiny non-celebration. Usually, I can count on her not to make a big deal. Tegan was always as low-key and downbeat about this stuff as me, but ever since getting together with Ryland, she’s become all shiny and happy, full of romantic ideas.
I’m all for shiny and happy, just as long as it doesn’t make me the center of attention.
“How come you’re so down on birthdays?” Blake asks, still with his arms wrapped around me. He kisses my neck, then turns me around to face him. His brow knits in a frown. “You know, now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you celebrate. But you would have been staying with us plenty of times over vacation. What gives?”
“I’m good at keeping a secret, that’s what.”
But Blake won’t release me. His blue eyes are questioning, so I sigh. “It’s just… Growing up on my own, birthdays always reminded me what I didn’t have, you know? I’d be off on my own at a new school or international placement. Everyone else had parties, and trips to the zoo with all their friends,” I remember, “but my parents were always too busy to organize anything, so my birthday just made me feel alone.”
Blake kisses me gently. “But things are different now,” he reminds me. “You have plenty of people in your life now. Why not make some new memories?”
I smile. “I said OK to Tegan, didn’t I? Just make sure she doesn’t go crazy. She’s still all amped up on love hormones with Ryland, I never thought I’d see her this happy.”
“It’s great, isn’t it?” Blake smiles fondly. “She deserves it, after everything she’s been through.”
“She does,” I agree, happy for my friend. “So, what’s next for you: another take on this scene?” I look around the yard. “Where’s Dash, anyway? I thought you and Lila had a bunch left to do today.”
“Me too,” Blake shrugs. “But he took a look at my script, and then disappeared off somewhere. I don’t know what’s keeping him now.”
“I better go find him,” I say, checking my watch. “We’ll lose the light by six, and I know Kira’s ready to get them all set up for the next shot.”
I make to leave, but Blake tugs me back. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” He arches an eyebrow.
I blink.
“This,” he says, and leans in to kiss me again. I sink against him, savoring the heat of his mouth, and the sweetness in every touch. It’s a moment of magic, the whole world melting away.
I understand why Tegan is walking around with a smile on her face all the time. Because having this closeness with Blake for just a few hours has made me giddy with happiness; I can’t imagine waking up to it every morning, day after day.
I finally pull away. “See you tonight?” I check.
“Bet on it.”
I drag myself away before I spend the whole afternoon making out with him. I don’t know where Dash has gotten to, it’s not like him to leave the crew in limbo between shots. I check the trailers, and inside, before finally finding him huddled in a corner of the cottage living room, typing madly on his laptop.
“Dash?” I ask. “Are we still on break?”
He looks up, and his face changes when he sees me. “Did you do this?” he demands, getting up.
“Do what?” I ask, confused. He’s waving a copy of Blake’s script at me.
“This, the notes. I recognize your handwriting. Was it you?”
I look closer. Crap. He’s got the pages from the other night: the script I made notes on when I was waiting around for Blake. I cringe, bracing myself for a trashing. Is he mad? Offended? It wasn’t like I thought I could do any better than him, I was just passing the time.
Oh God, what if he fires me?
“I’m sorry,” I apologize quickly. “I was just messing around. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“So it was you.” Dash’s face changes. My heart stops, preparing for the worst—but then he thrusts his laptop at me. “Can you finish? I’ve been trying to type them up, so I can get the pages to Blake and Lila.”
“But, why?” I blink, confused.
“So we can use them, of course. Luckily it’s just the dialogue, but it made me think about the next scenes, how it would all play out, and now I’m thinking about adding a beat, b
ack at the beach from earlier, to play up what you added about his father—”
His words wash over me. I’m still totally lost.
Does this mean I’m not fired?
Dash notices my dumbfounded expression and pauses. “Can you do it?” he asks. “I have the program all set up, you just need to copy in what you wrote. And anything else, if you think of something. If you get the pages done by tomorrow, we can shoot them straight away.”
“I… Sure… Yes!” I stutter, my mind racing. “But, I thought you’d be mad. I mean, going in and changing all your work…”
“It’s not my work,” Dash breaks into a grin. “The writer is good, sure, but there were still some issues. I had a feeling about it, you know? When you just get an instinct it’s not right. But, I figured it was better just to shoot and then edit it out later. But you’ve totally turned the scene around. It’s so much stronger with just a few tweaks. You did a great job.”
I can’t believe it.
“So, you’ll finish?” Dash looks anxious. “We’re on a real deadline here.”
“Yes!” I exclaim quickly, grabbing the laptop. “Whatever you need!”
“Awesome.” Dash exhales in relief. “I’ll tell Kira not to bother you with anything. We’ll finish up this scene with the actors, then start fresh tomorrow. You’re a lifesaver!” he adds, suddenly landing a kiss on my cheek before heading for the door. “Now write!”
20.
“Wake up, birthday girl.”
The sound of knocking slips through my sleep. I hear Blake calling me from far away, but I yawn, snuggling deeper under the covers.
Early. Too early. More sleep.
“C’mon Zoey! Don’t you want your birthday surprise?”
I roll over, groaning, as Blake saunters in. He takes one look at me and laughs. “Oh man, how late were you up with those rewrites?”
“I don’t know.” I haul myself into a sitting position, squinting as he pulls back the curtains. “Three, four a.m., maybe?” I yawn again, “But Dash needed them first thing, and I didn’t want to stop.”