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Just a Summer Fling

Page 7

by Cate Cameron


  “Nothing happened. That’s why you lost the bet, right?” Josh left the change with Abi and started for the door, but Scott stepped sideways. Not quite blocking the path, but making it so Josh would have to dodge around him. Josh didn’t like to dodge.

  “What were you thinking, man? A hot little piece like that? And she wasn’t going to put up a fight, obviously. And that McArthur woman was watching the whole thing like she wanted in on the action. You could have had a hell of a night! Man, I know summer women are slutty, but—”

  “Watch your mouth,” Josh said.

  Scott didn’t seem to catch the warning in Josh’s tone. “What? She met you for the first time that night, right? And she was all over you. She wanted to go home with you, right? Sherry was next to you at the bar and she heard that much. If that’s not being slutty—”

  “She was playing around,” Josh said firmly. “Having fun. That’s all.”

  Scott looked like he was thinking about arguing the point. Then he took a moment to look at Josh’s face. “Okay,” he grumbled with a shrug. “Fine. She’s a saint. Whatever. You still cost me twenty bucks.”

  Josh didn’t think he’d get into that. Instead, he turned to say good-bye to Abi and saw her watching him contemplatively. He had no idea what she was thinking, and figured it was best to leave it that way. “Thanks for the sandwich,” he said, and he headed out of the café. He wondered if the “O” on the list of Vermont hazards should be “overprotective.” And his first instinct should not have involved sharing that idea with Ashley Carlsen.

  * * *

  ASHLEY wasn’t stalking the man. But her pottery lesson had been prescheduled and she’d needed something to take her mind off her stupidity. Laurie had set her up with a chunk of marble on top of a rustic wooden table in the middle of the shop and was showing her how to use slabs of clay to make interesting shapes; then Ashley had glanced out the window and seen Josh striding out of the café across the street, an angry frown on his handsome face.

  Laurie noticed her distraction and glanced across the street. “Josh Sullivan,” she said as if the words were a complete and meaningful sentence. Then she looked back at Ashley. “I heard a little story about you and him at Woody’s. . . .”

  “Just me,” Ashley said quickly. “He put up with me, but just because he’s a good guy. None of that was his idea.”

  Laurie looked a little skeptical. “Make sure the seam’s tight, then dip your finger in the water and use it to smooth out the edges,” she directed. As Ashley worked Laurie peered back out the window. “I don’t know him that well. I used to be friends with Anika, one of his cousins. Have you noticed yet that he’s related to practically everybody? That’s because his mom’s a Linden, and they have big families and none of them ever move away. I used to go over to her place—they still have a bit of lakefront, which is pretty damn rare for any locals up here—and we’d hang out on the dock and I’d ogle all the handsome boys in her family. But then Anika broke the family tradition and actually did move away, so I kind of lost touch. Josh was definitely nice to look at, though. But he’s . . .” She made a face. “He’s got a bit of a reputation, you know. For . . . well, for stuff like that night at Woody’s. Going home with strangers. Especially rich strangers.”

  “He’s made it pretty clear he wants nothing to do with me,” Ashley said firmly. She liked Laurie and was pretty sure the woman was trying to warn her rather than trying to be a busybody, but there was no need for a warning. Josh Sullivan had been a brief visitor to Ashley’s life and he’d run away as quickly as he could at the first opportunity. He wouldn’t be coming back.

  She looked back down at the vase she’d constructed. It was clumsy and rough compared to the smooth grace of the one Laurie had made, but Ashley still liked it. And she liked having something under her control, something that responded to her efforts. “Should I squish this one and start over?” she asked.

  Laurie shrugged. “Your call. We can fire it and glaze it if you want, and you can still make another. Clay doesn’t cost all that much, really, so if you want to keep it, you should.”

  Ashley looked down at the rough shape. “I’m keeping it,” she said firmly. “I want to glaze it a nice deep blue and put it in my living room at home and if people don’t like it, that’s too damn bad.”

  Laurie raised an eyebrow. “Okay. Pottery as expression of defiance. Very nice. Let’s put that bad boy over there for now and you can make something else to tell the world to go to hell.”

  “Not the whole world,” Ashley said sweetly. She took the lump of clay from inside the plastic bag on the floor and tossed it hard on the marble slab. No, not the whole world. But Josh Sullivan the Unforgiving? She gathered the clay up and slammed it down again. She was done with Josh Sullivan. He wasn’t the only one who could walk away from a bad situation.

  She managed to keep the resentment burning through the rest of her lesson and for about half of the drive home, but then it faded into a vague sense of disappointment. It was stupid. She barely knew the man. She’d made her play and she’d been shot down. That was all there was to it.

  She thought about heading back to L.A. She hadn’t decided to stay in Vermont because she was chasing after a man, but it was a bit difficult to forget about him when she knew she might see him again, when everyone in town knew him or was related to him, when he shared a name with the damn lake she was staying on. . . .

  Her phone rang and she looked down at the call display. Charlotte Samson for the third time that day, and for the third time Ashley ignored the call. Which was a pretty clear sign that she should stay in Vermont a little longer, she figured. Charlotte was a good friend, one of the few Ashley had in the industry, and if Ashley wasn’t ready to talk to her, then she wasn’t ready to talk to anybody. In a few weeks, Ashley would be able to gossip a little and start speculating about what roles she should be looking at. But she needed more time.

  But apparently she wasn’t going to get it. She’d assumed Charlotte had been calling from California, but when Ashley pulled into the cottage driveway, there was a convertible parked by the house. And Charlotte was leaning on the hood, her smile wide and excited. Ashley might not have been ready to go back to Hollywood, but apparently Hollywood had decided to track her down.

  Seven

  “THERE’S TWO OF them now!” Kevin grinned excitedly as he shoveled scrambled eggs into his mouth. He’d heard about the new arrival from Tom Armstrong at the gas station, who’d almost passed out the day before when a woman in a rental convertible had pulled up to ask for directions and he’d realized he’d seen her on the big screen. “And there’s two of us. And that place needs work. And if it’s a little hot out and we have to take our shirts off . . . oh well.”

  “You really think either one of them is going to be impressed with your shirtless chest?” Josh shook his head and concentrated on spreading strawberry jam evenly over his buttered toast. His aunt Carol made good jam, and he didn’t want to waste any of it. He also didn’t want to pay attention to Kevin’s nonsense.

  “You’re missing the beauty of this situation,” Kevin said confidently. “Down in Hollywood or wherever, no, they’re not going to notice us. But we’re not in Hollywood, Joshy! And you and me—well, me, mostly, but you a little—we’re the best thing this town has going! Two single ladies, looking for a little fun. Two single gents, ready to show them the sights. . . .”

  “What sights are you thinking about, exactly? You going to take them to Montgomery’s furniture factory?”

  “So if there’s nothing worth their time, maybe we’ll just stay in,” Kevin said with a leer that would have been a lot more effective if his mouth hadn’t still been full of scrambled egg.

  Josh was done with the conversation. “Find another wingman.”

  “I can’t just drive up and introduce myself, asshole. I need a reason to be there. A reason like bunkie-roof repair.” K
evin tilted his head, his expression suddenly crafty. “Or you could send me there with someone else. Matt Carter’s always looking for work. . . .”

  “Matt Carter’s always looking for work because he never gets hired again after he’s worked for people one time. You’re not going to wreck my reputation doing shitty work on that roof, Kevin, not just because you want to—” He broke off as Aunt Carol wandered into the kitchen, where they were eating. Kevin’s mom probably didn’t need to hear the details of Kevin’s intended debauchery. Then again, maybe she should. Maybe that would teach Kevin not to start conversations like this while he was sitting at his mother’s kitchen table.

  “You boys getting enough to eat?” Carol asked sweetly.

  They were both adult men by any objective standards, but they knew they’d always be boys to their mothers. And Kevin wasn’t really helping to dispel that image, considering that he’d moved back into his old room after breaking up with Kelli and wasn’t showing any signs of moving out. In fact, he wasn’t showing any signs of moving on, either. Nothing except for this sudden interest in movie stars. An interest that Josh was currently discouraging for his own selfish reasons. Damn it. Was he his cousin’s keeper?

  “We ate all the eggs,” Kevin admitted sheepishly. “I’ll pick up more on the way home, okay?”

  “Since the girls moved out you two are the only ones who eat them,” Carol said unconcernedly. “You know how I feel about embryonic chickens.”

  “You think they’re disgusting,” Kevin said. “And you know how I feel about nature’s perfect food.”

  “You think they’re delicious.” Carol patted her son’s shoulder as she leaned over and put a slice of homemade bread into the toaster.

  The whole scene was a bit too sweet to feel real, but Josh had experienced this mother-son act enough times to know that the affection was genuine and heartfelt. His mother was Carol’s sister, but she either hadn’t inherited the same nurturing gene or she’d decided that her only child was somehow not an appropriate recipient. She’d made sure Josh was fed and had clean clothes, but if he’d wanted any more parenting he’d made his way over to Aunt Carol’s. Now his mom had remarried and moved to the city, and Aunt Carol was still babying Josh every chance she got. Even if Kevin had been a bad worker, Josh would have still given him jobs because he was Carol’s kid. And Josh knew Aunt Carol was worried about Kevin. Damn it!

  “You better brush your teeth and check yourself in the mirror before we leave,” Josh said to his cousin. “You aren’t going to impress any movie stars with egg all over your face.”

  Kevin sent him a startled look, then broke into a wide grin. “Yeah? We’re going over there?” He looked up at his mother. “Hey, Mom, guess who’s going to bag a movie star today.”

  Josh winced, but Carol just raised an eyebrow. “Is it Josh?” she asked, and smiled sweetly in his direction. “Congratulations, Josh. Although I think you know how I feel about using language like ‘bagged’ to describe what should be a respectful and mutually enjoyable activity.”

  Normally, Josh would have agreed with her completely. This time, though? “‘Bagged’ might be the right word, actually. But kind of the reverse from what Kevin was thinking of.

  “You know those big-city hunters who are always coming up and shooting our game, acting like they’re wily outdoorsmen?” Josh shook his head and spoke to Kevin instead of Carol. Maybe he wouldn’t get in the guy’s way, but he’d at least make sure everyone understood what he was getting in to. “These women are just trying to bag a trophy buck.”

  But Kevin only spread his arms out to the sides and smiled cockily. “I am an easy damn target, and I am ready to be in their sights.”

  Josh sighed and pushed away from the table. “Okay,” he said quietly. “Go get cleaned up, and let’s get this over with.”

  Kevin almost knocked his chair over as he stood and dashed for the bathroom. Carol caught his chair and looked after him with an amused but worried expression. “Is this real?” she asked softly. “I mean, these women—these movie stars—they’re not going to be interested in someone . . .”

  She paused as she searched for the tactful words. Josh’s smile was only a little bitter. “Someone like Kevin or me? No. They won’t be interested. Not in anything real. But playing around a little?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it depends how bored they are.” When Ashley had moved in she’d been planning on some sort of retreat, cutting herself off from all her Hollywood friends. It hadn’t taken her too long to get tired of that idea and invite someone up to entertain her, so she’d probably be looking for a new distraction any second now. “Depends what other options they come up with. Depends how long they’re here for, and who they’re trying to impress or piss off.” It depended on a lot of things. But none of it was going to be about finding a real connection between two people. Josh knew that much.

  Carol huffed out a breath that showed she wasn’t completely happy with the situation. “And you? Kevin’s ‘ready to be used.’ Is that your plan as well?”

  Sometimes Carol asked questions that she didn’t really want to have answered. Josh was never quite sure what to do in those situations. “Not my plan,” he said. “It’s never my plan.”

  “But sometimes it happens all the same, doesn’t it?” She smiled at him, then patted him on the cheek. “You’re such a romantic, Josh. I have no idea how you turned out like that, but you sure did.”

  He made a scoffing face because that’s what he was supposed to do when a woman said something like that. She just laughed at him, a sweet, delicate sound.

  Then Kevin was back, grinning like a little kid about to go on a ride at the fair, and Josh wasn’t sure whether he wanted to protect his cousin or hit him in the face. He settled for a grumpy scowl and a head-jerk toward the door. “We’re burning daylight,” he growled. “And I’m calling Sam Curran on the way. If he says this is a bad day for the work, we’re doing something else. Understood?”

  Kevin didn’t stop smiling. It was good to see, really. Maybe a quick roll in the hay was just what the guy needed. Or maybe the movie stars wouldn’t even glance in his direction, and the whole thing would be over before it even started. That would be excellent. Josh’s brain was getting ahead of him, as usual, worrying about things that hadn’t happened and that probably never would happen.

  It would all be fine, he told himself as he backed the truck out of the driveway. Sure, he was breaking his rule about staying away from Ashley. But he could be physically present without being there in spirit. He’d done it before with other women, and he could do it with Ashley if he had to. He’d just keep his guard up. And he’d try to ignore the tiny stir of excitement in his stomach at the thought of seeing her again.

  * * *

  “IT’S brilliant,” Ashley said as she dropped the bundle of paper into Charlotte’s lap. “And with Lauren Hall directing? It’s going to be . . .” Her words trailed off. She wouldn’t let herself get excited about this script. She was supposed to be on vacation, for one thing. But more importantly, she knew the limits she was working within. She knew how she was seen in Hollywood, and she wasn’t going to let herself get too excited about a role that would never be hers. She and Charlotte had heard about the project, dreamed about being part of it, but it seemed too bold, somehow, for them to actually try for parts.

  But Charlotte wasn’t being nearly as careful. “We can do it!” she proclaimed. “You and me. It’d be . . . Oh, Ash, it’d be perfect. People have said we look alike. Playing sisters would just make sense. And this is real acting, not just standing there and looking gorgeous.”

  “It’s not a question of what I want. If I could get this job, I’d take it, no questions asked. I’d do it for free. But this is a serious film. It’s got multiple Oscars written all over it. They’re not going to cast a former child star who’s made a career out of slasher flicks, rom coms, and being the romantic i
nterest in action movies.”

  “Don’t be such a baby,” Charlotte retorted. “There’s lots of child stars who get real careers. It’s been almost ten years since Mayfair Drive went off the air, and you’ve been working steady the whole time. You have a real career, one that would make most actors completely jealous.”

  “I have a great career,” Ashley said, trying to sound like she meant it. She certainly couldn’t complain about the money, but she was starting to worry about the longevity. Hollywood wasn’t kind to women over thirty, not if all they’d been cast for was their looks. “I’ve been very lucky. But they’re not going to look at me for this role. You have a better chance, really, because you’re newer. They don’t know you as well.” It was hard to say, but it was true. And Ashley needed to be a good friend about it. “I’ll help you prep, and you’ll be great, and you can thank me when you win your Oscar.”

  Charlotte didn’t look convinced, but after a moment’s thought she said, “Okay. You’ll help me—” She broke off as she watched a pickup truck make its way down the driveway. “You expecting visitors?”

  Ashley recognized the truck and cursed herself for wanting to run inside and throw a little mascara on. She needed to get over the stupid crush. “It’s the caretaker,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “See that blue tarp on the bunkie roof? Not part of the original design.”

  “Oh,” Charlotte said, her interest clearly fading. Then, “Oh!” with a bit of a moan at the end as the men climbed out of the truck. “Very nice. Double the fun.”

  Josh and his cousin. Josh scowling as usual, Kevin looking open and friendly, like Josh had, back before everything had gotten messed up.

  It was Josh who approached them, coming up the path and standing on the ground just in front of their seats on the wide front porch. “We were thinking of working on that roof today,” he said quietly. “Would that be a problem for you?”

 

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