Kiss and Make Up

by Serenity Woods

  Three weeks, Tabby. She was well aware of the expiration date stamp on this relationship. Whatever else happened over the next three weeks, they were going to have to say good-bye at the end.

  She ignored the unease that settled over her at that thought and nuzzled his neck, feeling his fingers skate down her spine in response. Just think about today and make the most of it. Let tomorrow take care of itself.

  …

  “What are you doing?”

  Eli kept his gaze on the soccer ball, counting as he played keepie-uppie, now up to forty-seven taps of the ball with his knees and feet without dropping it. “Forty-eight…forty-nine—is this a trick question?—fifty.”

  It had been almost a week since their tryst in the woods, and the filming on location was nearly over. Everyone was working at a frantic pace, trying to finish the scenes before they returned to Wellington, which was why Eli and Mick were in full costume, waiting for their call to camera.

  “I don’t mean with the soccer ball.” Mick lay on the grass, arms behind his head. “I mean with Tabby.”

  “Apart from the obvious? Fifty-four…fifty-five…”

  “You’re trying to tell me it’s just sex?”

  Eli glanced at him, nearly missed the ball, and knocked it up with his foot at the last moment. “Stop trying to distract me. Tabbs and I are having fun, that’s all. Fifty-nine…sixty.”

  Mick snorted. “I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

  “She’s gorgeous, Mick. I fancy the pants off her. End of discussion. Sixty-eight…sixty-nine.”

  “Eli, you don’t look at her like you fancy her. You look at her like you want to put your cloak over a puddle for her.”

  “I’m not putting my new jacket in a puddle for anyone. Seventy-seven…seventy-eight…seventy-nine.”

  “It’s obvious you love her.”

  The ball bounced on the grass. He caught it and glared at the guy on the ground. “What the hell? I was one off eighty—that’s a personal best.”

  Mick sat up, making himself comfortable as he scrutinized Eli. “Huh. I was just guessing.”

  Eli glared at him for a moment. Then he turned and started again. “One…two.”

  “You gotta tell her, dude.”

  He didn’t say anything, pretending to concentrate on the ball, but inside his stomach churned. He wouldn’t tell her how he felt because there was no point.

  “We’re going our separate ways in two weeks. Twelve…thirteen.”

  Mick reached out and caught the ball. “Seriously. Have you spoken to her about it?”

  He didn’t want to have this conversation. “There’s nothing to talk about. Give me the ball.”

  Mick held it out of reach. “Does she feel the same way?”

  He hesitated, unsure. She liked being with him and she enjoyed making love with him—that much was clear. If he had to stake his life on it, he would have said yes, she did return his feelings, even though they hadn’t said those three little words, but he wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse.

  Frustration coiled inside him, and he heaved a sigh. They were heading to opposite sides of the world. It couldn’t work, even if he wanted it to.

  He looked back at Mick. “Give me the ball.”

  Mick sat on it. “If you don’t tell her, I will.”

  Eli put his hands on his hips and glowered at Mick. “You won’t say a word, because there’s nothing to say. She’s a lovely girl, we’ve had a lot of fun, and we’ll have a bit more fun before filming finishes, I’m sure. But then she’s going to London, and I’m going to LA. That’s it. We both knew that was the situation from the beginning. Nothing’s changed.”

  “Yes it has—you’re just not admitting it. I’ve never seen you this way with a girl.”

  “Geez, Mick, stop marrying us off.”

  “It’s more than that. You’re starry-eyed.”

  “Bullshit.” Eli beckoned to him. “Give me the ball.”

  “You don’t have to go to LA, you know.”

  Eli narrowed his eyes. He didn’t need to hear the old argument. “Don’t start.”

  “Charlie made you promise to go because he was afraid you wouldn’t have the courage to do it without him. He was trying to help you. The world won’t come to an end, Eli, if you don’t go.”

  For a second, Mick’s words rang in his ears. Then he remembered Charlie’s cool, weak hand on his, the urgency that had echoed in his words. “I know that. I want to go. Give me the ball.”

  Mick shook his head stubbornly. “I don’t think you do want to go. You haven’t even booked your flight yet.”

  “I’m waiting for a late deal. Only Madeleine has to book everything twelve months in advance.”

  “Eli, it was always Charlie’s dream, not yours.”

  “That’s not true.”

  Mick ignored him. “We idolized him. You’re sticking to the promise like it’s a medieval chivalric oath. You didn’t sign it in blood. Nobody will know if you break it.”

  “I’ll know,” Eli snapped. “Give me the ball.”

  “It was eleven years ago. If you’d committed murder on the day Charlie died, you’d be out by now.”

  “Give me the fucking ball!”

  Mick stood and held it behind his back. “Just tell her, Eli. Don’t be such a bloody coward.”

  Eli shoved him, hard. Mick stumbled back, tripped, and dropped the ball as he held out his hands to save his fall. Eli picked it up and pointed at him. “Don’t say a word to Tabby. She’s got enough on her plate without you adding stupid complications that don’t exist.”

  “All right, all right.” Mick held up his hands, frowning. “I’m only looking out for you, man.”

  “Well don’t. I can look out for myself.” Eli turned and stormed off to his trailer.

  He crashed around inside it for a few minutes, cursing and calling Mick every swear word he could think of. It had been a hard, busy week, which hadn’t been made easier by the fact that he hadn’t been able to get Tabby alone again. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, about kissing her and feeling her soft body under his, but this longing was carving him up inside. He lifted his laptop onto the table, popped the lid, and brought up the Air New Zealand website. After finding a flight to LA for a few weeks’ time, he chose a seat near the window, entered his credit card details, and printed out the flight tickets on the printer set up in the corner of the trailer.

  Afterward, he lay back on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. One ticket, nonrefundable. Soon he’d be off to his new life. He wasn’t a coward. He’d made a promise, and he was going to honor it.

  “I told you I’d do it for us, Charlie, and I’m going to,” he whispered.

  He’d dreamed of fulfilling this ambition his whole life, and he was relieved he’d done it, proud of the fact that he hadn’t let his brother down.

  He ignored the sadness that welled up in him at the thought of never seeing Tabby again. Perhaps one day they’d run into each other on another set. Maybe she’d still be single. You could never tell what the future held.

  He closed his eyes at the thought of her married to someone else, gritted his teeth at the image of her kissing another man. She wasn’t his to feel jealous over. And the sooner he came to terms with that, the better.

  …

  Tabby finished off her third glass of wine and gave a heavy sigh. Almost all the cast and crew were in the bar in Taupo, celebrating the completion of the final location shot before they returned to Wellington. Even Geoff Stone was there, having a beer, and food and drink flowed in copious amounts—hence the third glass of wine.

  “Another?” Madeleine yelled above the noise of the music playing.

  “God, no. I’m going to be rolling back to the motel as it is.”

  “Another one it is,” Madeleine said. She got up and wound her way through the crowd to the bar.

  Tabby leaned on the table and put her chin in her hands. She didn’t want to go back to Wellington. Working on
the set had been fun, although she’d hardly seen Eli since their picnic in the woods. Plus she’d had to deal with three more phone calls from her mother, the last hours ago. She was becoming very aware that she was going to have to sort out her family situation when filming was over.

  She glanced at Eli. He’d come in late and was sitting with Mick and half a dozen other guys. They were jocular and bawdy, but Eli was quiet, and as she watched, he glanced over at her. She wanted to smile, but something in his eyes stopped her. After a moment, he dropped his gaze and finished off his drink. He held a tumbler, not a beer glass, and she wondered how many whiskies he’d had. Not that she could talk. She watched Madeleine approach with another glass of wine. She wouldn’t be able to drink it, but she didn’t want to tell her that.

  “I need to go to the ladies’ room.” She stood and walked over to the bathrooms at the other end of the bar. She wasn’t drunk, but she hadn’t eaten much and felt lightheaded as she wove between the people standing in front of the bar. She passed Mick coming the other way. “Hey,” she said, catching his arm. “What’s up with Eli?”

  Mick glanced over at him. “He’s pissed at me.”

  “Why?”

  “Something I said. Don’t worry about it. Nothing to do with you.”

  “Okay.” She let him go. He was lying, of course. If it was nothing to do with her, why was Eli glaring at her like that? Tired and dispirited, she turned her back on him. She was in no mood to play games.

  When she came out, the bar seemed even busier. She threaded back through the crowd, coming to a stop as someone put an arm across her, blocking her way.

  “Excuse me,” she said loudly.

  Will Daniells leaned forward to speak in her ear. His eyes were steady, but he stank of beer. “I’ve been watching you.”

  “Oh?” She gave him a bright smile. “Catch you later.”

  He ignored her. “You look hot in that outfit.”

  She glanced at the tight, scarlet blouse and soft black skirt she was wearing and wished she’d chosen a turtleneck and jeans. “Thanks. Can I get past now?”

  “Sure. If you know the password.”

  “Abracadabra?”

  “Not even close.”

  “Can you give me a clue?”

  “It’s the answer to the question: ‘Do you want to go somewhere quieter with me?’”

  She smiled, wondering why he’d decided to have another try at her when she’d made it quite clear she wasn’t interested. “Thanks for the offer, but the answer’s no.”

  “That’s not the password.” His eyes challenged her. “I can’t let you pass, I’m afraid.”

  He wasn’t threatening, particularly, but she was tired, and she’d had three glasses of wine. She put her hand on his arm and tried to push it away, but he refused to move. He bent to speak in her ear again, resting his hand on her upper arm as he spoke. “I’ll let you pass on one condition.”

  Something barreled into him from the side, and Tabby stepped back with a gasp. Eli had covered the space between them in seconds and now pushed Will up against the bar, his arm across his throat. “Get your fucking hands off her.”

  Will shoved him. “Fuck off, Black. You’ve had your go with her, now let someone else have a try.”

  Tabby gasped, but before she could express her outrage, Eli’s fist met Will’s nose with a crack audible even over the music. Blood sprayed, and Will stumbled and crashed into a table.

  “Oh, great.” Tabby stood back as people swarmed around them, Mick pulling Eli back, several others rushing to help Will up, offering tissues to stanch the blood.

  Will blinked, wide-eyed. “You’ve broken my fucking nose.”

  Eli shook Mick off. “You’re lucky it wasn’t your neck.”

  “Enough!”

  Tabby turned to see Val pushing through the crowd, eyebrows drawn together and mouth in a firm line. Geoff Stone stood behind him, face also grim. Val walked up to Will and examined his nose, beckoning with his head to Madeleine. “Can you get him to the hospital? Find someone who hasn’t been drinking. And get some ice on it before it starts swelling.” He turned to Eli and fixed him with a glare. “Come with me.”

  Tabby watched as Val turned Eli and propelled him across to the other side of the bar. Mick stood beside her, hands on hips. “He’ll be lucky if Stone doesn’t fire him.” They watched as Madeleine took the bag of ice someone offered from behind the bar and led Will out. “If that idiot’s too badly bruised to film, he’ll put the whole schedule out.”

  Tabby watched Val poke Eli in the shoulder as he chewed him out and Eli shake him off irritably. “Is he drunk?”

  Mick glanced over at him. “A bit. And in a bad mood.”

  “I haven’t seen him grumpy before.”

  “It’s rare.”

  “Tell me why?”

  Mick smiled. “Why don’t you go and see if you can calm him down? I have a feeling you’re the only one who can.”

  She turned her attention back to Eli again. He had his hands jammed in his pockets and was looking at the ground stubbornly, not saying anything. Sighing, she walked over to him and Val.

  Chapter Twelve

  “…not worth it,” she caught Val saying. “He’s a fucking idiot, but you can’t go around knocking out the star of the show.”

  “Hey,” Tabby said, walking up next to them.

  Eli kept his gaze fixed on the ground.

  Val gritted his teeth. “See if you can talk some sense into him.”

  “Is he going to lose his job?”

  “Hopefully not. Geoff knows Daniells is an asshole.” He looked back at Eli. “But you’re twenty-six now, son. You can’t just throw a punch at any Tom, Dick, and Harry you take a dislike to as you did when you were younger.”

  Eli continued to say nothing, and Val walked off.

  Eli’s gaze rose to Tabby’s.

  “You done?” she said.

  He frowned. “He insulted you.”

  “And I was handling it perfectly well on my own, thank you very much. It’s not your job to be my knight in shining armor every time you think I need help, Eli. I like you, you’re a nice guy, and I appreciate that you try to cheer me up, but it’s not your job.”

  His frown vanished, and something else appeared in his eyes: a hot, dangerous glint. “Nice?” he said. “Is that the best word you’ve got for me?”

  A stab of wariness shot through her as the dangerous glint grew. “Um…”

  “Nice, friendly Eli.” He stepped closer to her and brushed her cheek with a finger. “Cheering you up like a fucking Prozac tablet.”

  Her mouth went dry. “That’s not what I said.”

  His gaze ran down her, coming back up to rest insolently on her breasts before returning to her face. “Next you’re going to tell me you see me as a friend.”

  “I…well, we are friends, aren’t we?” What did he expect her to say? How else should she describe a relationship that was definitely going to end?

  Even as she said it, though, she knew she was kidding herself. The thought of moving away from a friend should make her sad and disappointed. It shouldn’t make her heartbroken and sick to her stomach.

  He met her gaze for a moment. She held it, blinking a few times, unsure how to deal with this new, dangerous Eli. He reached down and took her hand, turned, and walked out of the bar, pulling her with him.

  Tabby’s cheeks grew hot as a cheer went up. Now she realized they’d had an audience as the scene had unfolded. One of the girls shoved Tabby’s bag in her hand as she walked past, and Tabby managed a hurried “thanks” before he pulled her through the door.

  He walked at a fast pace along the main street, and she ran a little to keep up with him, his long legs far outstretching hers. “Eli, for God’s sake. Where are we going?”

  He glanced at her. “I’m going to teach you a lesson.”

  “A lesson in what?”

  He didn’t answer that, looking left and right before he walked across the road
, pulling her with him. Ahead of them was one of the motels where the crew was staying. He took a key out of his pocket as they entered the drive and led her across the courtyard to a flight of iron steps. They climbed to a balcony that ran the length of the building, woven with rose-colored bougainvillea. He walked along to one of the doors and fitted the key in the lock. Opening it, he pushed her inside.

  Tabby stood in the room and glanced around. She spotted a double bed in the middle and a few items of furniture before she turned her attention back to Eli as he shut the door behind him and locked it.

  He threw the key on the table and studied her, hands on hips.

  Until that moment, in all the times she’d been with him, he’d tempered his desire with gentle affection and a tenderness she’d grown to adore. The tenderness, however, had vanished from his eyes, and they held only passion, hot and intense, sending a delicious shiver through her.

  “Um…” she said again, unable to form a coherent thought. The heat from his eyes was scrambling her brain.

  He started to walk toward her, predatory as a panther, but she backed away.

  “Eli…” She moved around the bed.

  “Yes?” He continued to advance.

  She backed up against the wall. He stopped six inches from her, took her bag from her hand, and threw it onto the floor.

  “Please, Eli.”

  “Please?” He smiled then for the first time, showing her the gap in his teeth, and it was as friendly as having a tiger smile at you. “Please what?”

  “Um…” That was it—he’d somehow dismantled the speech center of her brain. “Ah…”

  He rested his hands on her hips and pushed her back the last inch to the wall, none too gently, so she met it with a bump. He stepped closer, his lips hovering over hers. “I’m not your friend, Tabbs. I’m not here to make you feel better.”

  “W-what are you here for, then?”

  “You know what.” He slipped his hands around to her ass and pulled her hips forward. The flimsy skirt was no barrier between them, and she squealed as his rock-hard erection pressed into the soft center of her, which was rapidly becoming sensitive and swollen. His lips grazed hers. “I’m not here out of the kindness of my heart, Tabbs. I’ve been nice to you because I thought you were a nice girl. But I think maybe, tonight, I need to show you what I really want to do to you, and what you’re really like, deep down.”