But until Ginger’s wedding, she was going to have to deal with her crush and the knowledge that wanting wasn’t the same as having. And wishing didn’t make a man see you as the girl of his dreams.
* * *
Madeline stared at the bound pages in front of her. She hadn’t known what to expect when Jonny had asked her to look over a script. She’d never seen one before.
“I thought it would be digital,” she admitted, fingering the paper.
“I’m old school. I read books made of paper and I want my scripts the same way. I can make notes in the margin.”
They were in the family room of his house, still snowed in. Although the storm had passed, the roads weren’t close to cleared. Rosalind had texted earlier that morning to say most of downtown was closed. Madeline had agreed on keeping the store shut. They didn’t have any appointments and it was close enough to Christmas that everyone would be focused on their holiday plans. Isabel was staying home, as well. No doubt kept there by her loving and concerned husband.
Which left Madeline staying with Jonny for yet another night. So far they’d had breakfast, then he’d gone to work out in his superfancy gym. While he’d offered to let her come along, she’d refused. She would have loved to watch him sweat, but didn’t know how to say that without sounding like a ridiculous groupie. And having him watch her pant her way through a very beginner walking program on the treadmill was not her idea of a good time.
They’d had lunch and he’d asked if she wanted to look at a script he was considering.
“What’s it about?” she asked.
“Read it and find out.” He glanced away from her, then back. “I’d like to know what you think.”
There was something in his tone. She couldn’t define it exactly, but if she had to guess, she would say he was unsure. About the project?
“Okay, sure. I’ve never read a screenplay before.”
“The formatting takes some getting used to. You can ignore the stage directions. Just read the dialogue. Pretend it’s an audio book.”
She nodded and settled on the sofa. Within a couple of pages, she was caught up in the story of Dean Woodley, a guy from the wrong side of town who was determined to make it to the top. Through a series of unexpected events, Dean found himself fostering three street kids who were desperate for connection and guidance, even as they stole from him and nearly got him arrested for drug dealing.
The story was gritty and funny and, when one of the boys was killed in a drive-by shooting, devastating. Madeline read until the end, when the two remaining boys graduated from high school and Dean won the girl. Then she went back to the beginning and read it all again. When she’d finished for the second time, she looked up to find several lamps on and Jonny watching her from the other end of the sofa.
“You’re crying,” he said as he handed her a tissue.
“Am I?” She wiped away her tears. “What time is it?”
“Nearly six.”
“I read all afternoon? I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I asked you to read it. What did you think?”
She hugged the script close. “I loved it. I’m usually a fast reader, but it took me a while to get over all the stage directions, or whatever they’re called. This is such a great story.”
She thought about Amish Revenge and all the other movies he’d starred in. Each of those characters had been a variation on a theme. Dean Woodley was completely different. “Are you thinking of doing this?”
“I don’t know. I want to. Annelise thinks it’s a good idea but then she’s always seen more in me than I do. It’s not what my fans expect of me.”
“That’s not a bad thing.” She put the screenplay on the coffee table. “I don’t know how the business works and I don’t think I could tell a good screenplay from a bad one. What I can say is this was compelling and interesting.” She smiled. “I like that he gets the girl at the end.”
“Of course you do. You sell wedding gowns. Happy endings matter to you.”
“To you, too. Are you worried that it’s not a Jonny Blaze movie if you don’t kick some bad-guy butt?”
“Yes. I wouldn’t in this one.”
“I think people would be okay with that.”
“Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate your opinion.”
“Why?” she asked, before she could stop herself.
“You have good taste. You’re honest.”
Couldn’t she be sexy instead? She held in a sigh. She would accept that she was the golden retriever of women in his life and try to be happy with that.
“We need to think about dinner,” she said. “Do you remember which casserole I took out this morning? I think it was tamale pie. That’s going to be great. There’s enough salad left from last night, and cookies. Because it wouldn’t be a good dinner without cookies.”
She paused, waiting for Jonny to say something. Instead, he stared at her. She had no idea what he was thinking. It could have been anything from him silently counting the minutes until he could finally take her back to town to a deep desire for peanut butter cookies. What she didn’t expect was for him to slide the few feet separating them, gather her in his arms and kiss her.
His mouth was warm and gentle, with the most delicious hint of wanting. At least, that was what it felt like from her end. Of course, she was so incredibly shocked that she could have been wrong about all of it.
Still, his lips on hers felt nice. Right. And his hands moving up and down her back were great, too. Madeline had no idea what was happening, but somehow that was okay. Because if a girl had to be confused, then having that happen in Jonny’s arms was the best place for it to be.
She let her eyes sink closed and her body relax. She gave herself over to the feel of his mouth teasing hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned forward and surrendered to the heat building up inside of her.
When he brushed his tongue against her bottom lip, she parted right away. He eased inside. At the first stroke of his tongue against hers, flames ignited all over her body. Even though she was sitting, her thighs began to tremble. Wanting grew. She thought about how alone they were and how incredibly comfortable the sofa was. She thought about the fact that it was practically Christmas and she hadn’t bought herself a single thing. Could one magical night with this man be her gift from her to her?
He deepened the kiss. She tangled with him, liking the way they found a rhythm that set her blood to bubbling. He slipped one hand from her back to her side. From there it went up and up and—
He drew back. “I’m sorry.”
She managed to blink.
He stood up and walked to the other side of the room. “Madeline, I’m sorry. I gave you my word. I promised nothing would happen. That you were safe here. It’s just...” He swore under his breath.
She didn’t catch the exact words, but she got the general idea. Far more interesting was the, um, proof that she hadn’t been the only one affected by what they’d been doing.
She told herself to look away, that it was rude to stare at a man’s erection. But she couldn’t help herself. Because she liked him and knowing he liked her back was really cool. Plus, the bulge was impressive.
“You’re not listening,” he said.
She returned her attention to his face. And while it was a very nice face, the hard-on was far more intriguing right now.
“Madeline, this is serious. I said nothing would happen.”
“Last night,” she blurted. “You said nothing would happen last night. And it didn’t.” She had the chagrined heart to prove it.
“You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad? Do women generally get mad when you make out with them? Because if they are mad, you’re doing something wrong.” From where she was sitting, he’d been doing everything right.
Something flashed in his eyes. She had no idea what it was, but hoped it was understanding. Or uncontrollable lust. The latter would be her first choice.
He
took a step toward her, then paused. “I like you.”
Words to make her quiver. “I like you, too.”
“You’re stuck here because of the storm. I don’t want you to feel pressured. Or obligated. I don’t want you to think this is some kind of movie scene.”
Understanding dawned as she finally got what he’d been unable to say, perhaps even understand himself on anything but the instinctual level. He was a famous movie star. Because of that, women did things, offered things, they never would in their normal life. They didn’t want to be with him, they were interested in the star. He was simply a means to an end.
Because of that, he would never want to put anyone in the position of having to perform. Because that was expected of him.
She thought about all the people he’d loved and lost. His mother, his first girlfriend, his father. Then she tried to imagine what it would be like to be so famous that women he’d never met would desperately want to sleep with him so they could say they had. No wonder he was wary of getting involved. No wonder he was fiercely protective of his privacy.
He liked her. He’d said it. They were friends. He saw her as a person and knew she saw him the same way. Even more significant, he was protective of her.
The thoughts flashed through her mind in a single heartbeat, then she was moving toward him. When she stood in front of him, she took both his hands in hers and smiled at him.
“I think the movie thing is really great, and I’ll admit when we first met I was totally starstruck.”
He watched her without speaking.
“But that went away pretty fast,” she continued. “I like how you care about your sister and that you flashed your butt at Eddie and Gladys.”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “Did you really mean to put those in the same sentence?”
“No, but go with it.” She looked into his eyes. “You helped me with Ted. You make toys for kids and you have terrible taste in wedding cakes. I don’t feel trapped or pressured and I know this isn’t a movie scene.”
She wanted to mention the erection, but wasn’t sure he would get how cool that was.
“I want you,” he murmured.
Oh, my. She felt both weak and incredibly strong. Hunger burned, but also an unexpected tenderness.
“Then I think you should have me.”
The smile returned. “Yeah?”
Before she could answer, he’d pulled her close and pressed his mouth to hers.
ELEVEN
MADELINE WOKE UP with a warm arm draped around her waist and the glow of a clock telling her it was 5:01. She stared at the small numbers as if studying them would convince her it had all really happened. She’d spent the night with Jonny.
A happy scream built up inside. She did her best to suppress it. The man was probably exhausted. She was, too, but also excited and nervous and confused.
Being with him had been magical. He’d been a caring, considerate lover with more concern for her pleasure than his own. They’d made love, then eaten dinner, then had made love again. When they’d finished the second time, he’d pulled her close, as if he’d expected she would stay in his bed. So she had. Which explained why she found herself there at 5:02 in the morning.
He shifted in his sleep, releasing her. She listened to the sound of his steady breathing before sitting up and reaching for the robe she was borrowing. She pulled it on as she walked out of the master and down the hall to the guest room. Once there, she closed the door and turned on a light.
Her hands were shaking, she thought as she stood there, trying to catch her breath. She was shaking. Nerves, maybe. A reaction to what had happened. While she wasn’t a virgin, she hadn’t bounced in and out of bed with a lot of guys. Her relationship with Jonny was complicated. Her fan-girl feelings had given way to genuine emotions. Now they’d become lovers and she wasn’t sure what that meant to her heart. Being around him was easy—too easy. Falling for him would be dangerous. Now that they’d been intimate, she was going to have to start worrying about her heart.
But how was she supposed to resist him? It had been difficult enough before, when she hadn’t known what a temptation he was. But now, she not only had to deal with the fact that he was funny and sweet and caring, she also had to accept that the man was practically a god in bed.
The way he’d touched her, the way he’d kissed every inch of her, over and over again. How he’d caressed her breasts and the rest of her. The feeling of him being inside of her, holding her, breathing her name.
She crossed to the guest bed and sat down. Her mind whirled and images from their night together overwhelmed her. She felt foolish and hopeful and a thousand other emotions she couldn’t begin to name.
Her cell phone chirped. Who would be contacting her at five in the morning? She picked it up and saw the city alert system had sent out a text saying the roads were being plowed. She scrolled through the list and saw the road to Jonny’s ranch had been plowed around midnight. She was free to leave. Only she didn’t really want to, and even if she did, she didn’t have a car.
Knowing she had to keep busy or go crazy, she took a quick shower, then dressed. It was all of 5:25. Now what?
Her heart and her body wanted her to crawl back in bed with Jonny and go for round three. Her head was more wary. Had it been just a one-night thing? Were they now in a relationship? What happened when she stopped being able to hide behind the star-power excuse and had to face the fact that the tingles and zings were all about the man?
She was her mother’s daughter and Loretta often talked about the lightning bolt that meant falling in love. Tingles and zips were not the same thing...right?
Madeline flopped back on the bed and closed her eyes. Now what? What was she supposed to say over breakfast? On the ride back to town? They still had a wedding to plan together. She was pretty sure she could keep it together if she just had a couple of hours to herself.
She sat up and reached for her phone. There was only one person she knew who would be awake at this hour. Awake and willing to help out a friend. She dialed.
“Hello?” Shelby Gilmore said a second later.
“It’s Madeline.”
Shelby laughed. “What on earth are you doing up at five-thirty in the morning?”
“It’s a long story. I need a ride home.”
There was a pause. “From somewhere other than home?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Where would that be?”
Madeline bit on her lower lip.
“If you don’t tell me, it’s going to make picking you up more challenging. I’m sorry to say my telepathic directional abilities are not what they should be.”
An excellent point. Madeline sighed. “The old Konopka Ranch,” she said quickly, then braced herself for the reaction.
“The old what?”
Crap. Shelby hadn’t lived in Fool’s Gold very long. She would only know it as... “I’m at Jonny Blaze’s house.”
Silence.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said quickly. “I know, believe me. It’s just... I don’t know. I need to get home. Please.”
“It’s fine. Stop talking. You don’t have to explain.” Shelby’s voice was gentle. “I’m picking up my keys as we speak. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”
“Thank you.”
Madeline hung up, then collected her things. There wasn’t much beyond the clothes she was wearing and her handbag. She retreated to the kitchen where she spent fifteen minutes writing a note. On her third try, she knew she wasn’t going to possibly get it right, mostly because she didn’t know what to say. In the end, she settled on “The roads are open and I caught a ride back to town. Thanks for everything.”
She wanted to say more. She wanted to mention how happy he’d made her as he’d held her in his arms. How his combination of gentleness and passion had helped her feel treasured and special. That usually the first time she was with a guy she couldn’t slip over the edge, but with him she’d been
able to relax. That she’d liked how he’d held her after, and that they’d laughed over dinner and, well, everything.
Tingles, she told herself firmly. She was experiencing tingles. Not love. She refused to fall for a guy who was so afraid of losing yet again that he never offered his heart.
She walked to the living room and watched out the front window. When a familiar Subaru pulled into the circular driveway, Madeline let herself out of the house.
She hurried to the car and got in. Shelby, a petite blonde with the delicate bone structure of a fairy princess, looked at her.
“Should I be worried?” her friend asked.
“Not yet.”
Shelby nodded and drove around to the main road. When they reached it, she turned left, back toward town.
“You know I love you,” Shelby said a couple of minutes later.
“You closed the bakery and drove out here at five-thirty in the morning without asking why,” Madeline said. “Yes, I know you love me.”
“You like the guy?”
“I’m not sure.”
That earned her an eye roll.
Madeline sighed. “Yes, I like him.”
“Thank you for admitting it. You’re not the type to sleep with someone without liking him first.”
“How do you know we slept together?”
Shelby groaned. “Seriously? You expect an answer to that?”
Madeline sighed again. “I’m confused.”
“You’re running.”
“No. I’m getting back to town so I can...” As she refused to sigh a third time in ten seconds, she was forced to hang her head. “I ran.”
“You ran out on someone you care about. After being snowed in at his house. At Christmastime.”
“I’m a horrible person.”
Marry Me at Christmas (Fool's Gold) Page 15