The Stuntman

by Maggie Carpenter

It was a short run to the set, and when the cart came to a stop Belinda saw Blake, wearing a dark suit and white shirt, deep in conversation with two other men, one of whom was also well-dressed. The area was barren, with desert shrubs and scattered rocks, and both Blake and the other man looked incongruous in their crisp, clean clothes.

  As the three men broke apart, Blake looked up and spotted her. He broke into a smile, and she responded with a wide grin a wave.

  “This is so much fun,” she whispered.

  “You’re looking at the best,” Josh said quietly. “I learn something every time I watch him.”

  “Places everybody, quiet please!”

  She couldn’t see who had given the order, but the voice had come through a megaphone. Everyone stopped talking and moving, a man with a digital clipboard stepped in front of Blake and called out something Belinda didn’t quite catch, then she heard the famous word.

  “ACTION.”

  Captivated, she watched Blake sprint away, chasing after the other well-dressed man who was several yards ahead. Moments later a huge crane began to lift in the air and sweep above them.

  Her eyes were darting from Blake’s pursuit, to the overhead camera, then suddenly Blake had reached his target. It was too far away for Belinda to see the action clearly, but he had brought the other man down and they were rolling around the ground. Punches were flying, and as much as she tried to convince herself it wasn’t real her heart was in her mouth. When it ended with Blake pulling the man’s hands behind him and slapping on handcuffs she let out a heavy breath.

  Someone yelled, cut, along with a few other brief, sharp words, and as Blake and the other stuntman started walking back, though their clothes were covered in dust and completely disheveled, there didn’t appear to be any obvious signs they’d been in a fight. Lifting his head he sent her a wave, and as she waved back she caught her breath. In his dirt covered, wrinkled clothes and disheveled hair, she thought he was more attractive than ever.

  My God, look at him. He even sexier than I remember. Bigger, taller, so hunky, and that dirt all over him, talk about a caveman. I want him to come over here and drag me back to his cave. Oh, dear Lord, please calm my beating heart.

  The crowd, who had been silent and still, were moving around again, but it was a few minutes before Blake broke away from his colleagues and started towards her.

  “Hi, glad you could make it,” he said leaning forward and lightly touching her cheek with his lips.

  “Me too,” she replied. “You don’t have a scratch on you. How do you do that?”

  “I’m not always so lucky,” he remarked taking her elbow and guiding her towards the empty golf cart. “It’s all about the other guy, and today the other was good.”

  “Are you finished?”

  “With that particular shot, yes, and I have about twenty minutes before the next one.”

  “Is that how it works?” she asked as they climbed into the cart. “Long breaks like this between shooting?”

  “It depends. We’ve already covered the angles of the fight, so we’re done with that particular scene.”

  “You were so clean before the fight,” she exclaimed. “Why save that until the end?”

  “Because for the closer shots our clothes were strategically torn,” he explained, “and became more torn as the fight continued.”

  “So the first part of the scene was shot last, in clean clothes. It was done backwards?”

  “Happens all the time,” he chuckled. “Hollywood is upside-down in many respects.”

  “Something I’ve always suspected,” she remarked.

  “Home, sweet home” he grinned as he pulled up to his trailer. “I need to get out of these clothes and take a quick shower. I hope you don’t mind talking while I’m doing my thing.”

  “Of course not. Do you want me to wash your back?” she winked as he opened the door. “Yikes, sorry,” she blushed. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “Even better,” he chuckled as he ushered her inside. “Now I know what you were thinking, and yes, you may certainly wash my back, but I’ll have to take a raincheck. There wouldn’t be enough room for you.”

  “Moving right along,” she said glancing around, “I’m thrilled to be here. Thanks so much for inviting me.”

  “You’re welcome. I hope you don’t get too bored,” he continued as he started undressing. “If you do, feel free to leave. I could always come by your place after we wrap.”

  “I won’t get bored,” she said firmly as she sat down. “I’m totally fascinated by everything, especially watching you.”

  He had removed his jacket and shirt, and standing in the small space, gazing at his powerfully muscled, half-naked body, Belinda felt a fresh flush cross her face.

  Oh, my, God, look at him. He’s like an Adonis.

  “I hope you’ll always enjoy watching me,” he said with a wide smile. “Give me a second. I just need to hose off. Help yourself to whatever. There are drinks in the refrigerator, and coffee, tea, whatever you want.”

  “Thanks,” she said wishing the burn in her face would stop. “Would you like anything? I think I might make a cup of tea.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll be right back.”

  Blake walked the few steps to the back of the trailer, closing the door behind him, and as removed the rest of his clothes he sighed happily. The look on her face as he’d stood shirtless in front of her had been nothing short of priceless. A crimson taint had covered her cheeks, her eyes had sparkled up at him, and he’d been tempted to reach down and pull her to her feet in true, Me Tarzan, You Jane, style, but his face was covered in dirt and dust, and he wouldn’t have been able to finish the grand gesture with a kiss.

  “When I come back though, I’ll knock your socks off,” he muttered stepping into the tiny cubicle and picking up the hand shower.

  It only took a few minutes to wash away the dirt, and quickly toweling off, he donned the jeans and T-shirt wardrobe had left him. As he walked back through the door he found her pouring boiling water into a mug, and tilting her head sideways she smiled across at him.

  “You look just like your picture,” he murmured.

  “I’m sorry?” she said turning to face him. “I didn’t hear you.”

  With no thought he marched across the short distance between them, and gripping her upper arms he stared down at her.

  “You are exquisite,” he mumbled, then dropped his lips against hers.

  It was not a gentle kiss, or a warm kiss, but a demanding, fervent kiss, a kiss that told her he wanted her, he desired her, and he was going to have her, and when he pulled back, the yearning he’d been hoping he would see was sparkling out of her milk chocolate brown eyes.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was several hours later and the shoot was wrapping up. Blake was changing in the small bedroom at the back of the trailer, and though Belinda had spent the afternoon and early evening watching him fight, tumble, leap from rock to rock, and even shoot someone, it was the kiss that had remained in the forefront of her mind.

  The kiss had told her, without any doubt, how he felt, and she knew if she stayed at his house overnight she would end up in his bed. She knew because he would kiss her again, and when he did she wouldn’t be able to stop the kiss growing into more.

  She done something else as well, something covert, something naughty and spontaneous, something she’d felt compelled to do.

  The night before, as she was leaving the hospital, she’d slipped a neurological wheel into her bag. The act had shocked her as she’d done it, and made her tremble all the way home, and as she waited for him to finish changing so she could follow him back to his house, the thought of the scintillating tool in her bag was making her quiver.

  At some point in the evening she would tell him about it, she would present it to him, and his thick, brawny, skilled fingers would take it from her hands, and she would melt at the mere thought of what he might do.

  I want to stay with him, I w
ant to so badly. I want to feel his naked body next to mind, I want him to control me, I want to close my eyes and feel those spikes press against my skin. Is it too soon? He’s old-fashioned, will he think less of me if I give in to him?

  “You look deep in thought,” he remarked as he returned from the bedroom.

  “Yes, I suppose I was, and not wanting to lie to you, I will tell you I was thinking about you, and leave it at that.”

  “Fair enough,” he grinned. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, but aren’t you tired? You did so much today. I’m a bit weary and all I did was watch.”

  “Am I tired? That’s a good question,” he said as he gestured for her to leave the trailer. “After work I’m wired, the adrenalin’s been pumping for hours so it takes a while for it to settle, but then I crash.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “I just had a thought. Your car will be safe here overnight. Why don’t we just take mine and I’ll bring you back in the morning? What time do you have to be at the hospital?”

  “We’re experimenting with a different kind of schedule. It’s usually twelve hours, seven until seven, but my unit has become a guinea pig and we’re working the shifts from 2 p.m. until 2 a.m. I prefer it.”

  “That’s perfect. I have to be back here by eleven o’clock. It will give you plenty of time to go home before you have to leave for work, if you decide to stay of course,” he added hastily. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume. Have you? Decided I mean?”

  Staring into his deep blue eyes she thought about the spiked wheel in her bag, his ardent kiss, how his hands felt as they had locked around her arms when they were in the trailer, and a second later the word spilled from her lips.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, you’ve decided, or yes you’d like to stay over?”

  “Uh, yes, I’d like to stay over,” and I’m an idiot, I didn’t bring an overnight bag.

  “Great. My car’s over there,” he said pointing to his Porsche, but as they began to walk towards it he stopped. “Is that all you have? That handbag?”

  “I hadn’t made up my mind when I left the house. Maybe I figured if I didn’t bring anything it would be easier for me to say no.”

  “You don’t have to stay, it’s fine if you’d rather not.”

  “I do, I think it will be fun.”

  “The guest room has everything you’ll need,” he promised, “and I can lend you a T-shirt to sleep in if you want. It will be as big as a nightgown on you.”

  “Thanks, Blake. That would be great.” The guest room? He honestly thinks we’ll last five minutes apart with me in the guest room?

  They had reached his car and he opened the passenger door, and as she settled into the tan leather seat and stared at the sporty console she nodded approvingly.

  “This car looks like you,” she remarked as he slid behind the wheel, “though I’m surprised you fit in it so easily.”

  “I’ve tried sedans, but they make me feel like a business man or a housewife, and I have no desire to be either,” he replied starting up the car.

  “I can see you as a businessman. You looked like one in that suit when I first arrived. You look great in a suit.”

  “It’s not the look, it’s the mentality, sitting behind a desk all day. I could no more do that than I could lay by a pool and do nothing.”

  “I’ll bet you could if you were on vacation in Tahiti, or the Caribbean, or somewhere exotic and relaxing.”

  “Possibly, but it would be after I’d put in twenty laps,” he laughed as he drove towards the dirt road that would take them to Mulholland Highway. “My poor car. A week of this and it will need a full detailing.”

  “It is very dusty out here, but it’s supposed to rain.”

  “I think your words just turned on the faucet, look,” he said as some light drops fell on the windshield.

  “That’s weird,” she remarked. “Maybe I did, but it’s not supposed to be very heavy.”

  “If it’s raining tomorrow I won’t be working, at least not out here. They may reschedule something at the last minute.”

  As he turned off the dirt road the weather began to pick up, and by the time they’d reached his house it was almost a downpour.

  “Shoot, will my car be okay back there? I hope it doesn’t turn into a big mud puddle,” Belinda frowned as they rolled into his garage.

  “You know what, you’re right. I’m shocked at this deluge, but you have the keys with you, right?” he asked as he turned off the car and closed garage door with his remote.

  “Yes, but there’s a hide-a-key under the front left wheel well. Why do you ask?”

  “Do you mind if someone else drives your car?”

  “No, why? Can you have someone bring it here?”

  “Yep,” he declared. “Let’s get inside. I’ll call from the landline.”

  A few minutes later, amazed that he could organize such a thing, she sat on the stool at the kitchen island watching as he made the arrangements.

  “All done,” he said hanging up the phone.

  “Some poor person is going to fetch my car and have someone follow them up here to take them back? Seriously?”

  “That poor person isn’t so poor,” he said walking over to her, “and he’s still there. He gets paid very well to be a dogsbody, and he’s got the hots for the girl who will be following him and driving him back. He couldn’t be happier.”

  “That makes me feel better.”

  “Follow me and I’ll show you to your room.”

  My room? Again with the guest room routine? Who is he kidding?

  “I suppose I should give you the full tour,” he continued. “I don’t know why I didn’t show you around when you were here the other night.”

  “We got talking.”

  “Yes, we did,” he nodded. “Let’s start with my bar.”

  “Your bar?” she repeated. “You have a bar?”

  “I do, I have a bar and a wine cellar. I’m not a serious drinker but my father is a vintner in Napa and I grew up around wine.”

  “Holy smokes,” she exclaimed. “Your father has a vineyard?”

  “He does, and he’s never forgiven me for moving down here and doing something he considers gauche,” he said shaking his head. “He still expects me to come to my senses and go back to run the place.”

  “Will you?”

  “Good heavens, no,” Blake declared as they entered a room with a neon sign that read, Blake’s Bar. “I’m blessed that my sister is taking on the barrels. It’s relieved the pressure, and this, my dear Belinda, is my bar.”

  The room had recessed lights in a coffered ceiling, paneled walls, and what appeared to be a traditional English pub bar against one wall. High leather stools lined the counter, and a brick fireplace with a large screen television above it, sat in a corner with a sofa and chairs in a cozy configuration.

  “This is incredible,” Belinda exclaimed. “Am I right in guessing you do quite a bit of entertaining?”

  “Less than I used to, but I still have a regular darts night, and friends come over for poker and to watch football games. I have a group of young guys like Josh, that I’m mentoring, and they come up here sometimes.”

  “You know what I think?” she said softly.

  “What’s that?”

  “I think this is a very cozy, romantic room, and with the rain splashing around outside, with the fireplace lit, it would be a lovely place to have dinner.”

  “Huh, believe it or not, I’ve never had a meal in here. Snacks of course, but not a meal. I think that’s a great idea,” and I want you to curl up in my lap on that couch right now. “I’ll start the fire to get the room warmed up a bit, then I’ll show you the rest of the house.”

  Moving to the side of the mantle he picked up a remote control, and pushing a button, started the fire to flame.

  “Beats kindling, logs and dealing with matches,” she laughed.

  “It does that. There’s something to
be said for mod cons.”

  “Mod cons?”

  “Brit speak for modern conveniences,” he explained.

  “Oh, speaking of Brit speak, I assume, a dogsbody is Brit speak for something as well?”

  “It is,” he chuckled, “it means someone who’s put upon, who has to do menial labor. I use it jokingly, though Josh is a dogsbody.”

  “He called himself a gofer.”

  “Same thing,” he smiled. “Come on, let’s keep moving. I still have to start dinner.”

  As he continued the tour, Belinda fell in love with the house. It wasn’t just warm and inviting, it had personality, and it didn’t have a professional decorator feel. When they moved up the stairs and he showed her into the guest room, she was surprised by how feminine it was.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he grinned.

  “You do?” she said turning to face him with raised eyebrows.

  “Yep. Why is it so girlie?”

  “I would have used the word, feminine.”

  “Okay, fine, feminine. I have two guest rooms, one like this, and one that’s more masculine. I decorated this room for my sister. She’s very much a lady, and I want her to feel comfortable when she stays over.”

  “That’s so thoughtful,” Belinda smiled. “What a good brother you are.”

  “I try,” he replied. “Anyway, now you’ve seen the house I suspect you’d like to take a shower. That location was so dusty. If you want to change I think you’ll find some clean clothes in the drawers. She leaves things here and I know she wouldn’t mind.”

  “That would be great,” Belinda nodded. “What’s her name?”

  “Nancy,” Blake said. “I’m going to take a quick shower myself, then I’ll be in the kitchen cooking. Just come on down when you’re ready.”

  “Blake, before you go,” she mumbled, “I’m really am happy to be here.”

  “And I’m really happy to have you here,” he smiled.

  “Does the room come with a hug?”

  Without speaking he moved across and brought her into his arms, and as she leaned into him he let out a contented sigh.

  Chapter Fourteen