The signal for the scene to start sliced through his memories, and Bo shifted his attention to the set, forcing himself to focus on the action—to do his damn job. Anytime you added another element to a fight scene, like a pair of fucking scissors, there was additional risk for something to go wrong.
He trained his gaze on the actors as they struggled for possession of the prop. Ryan made a grab for the scissors, latching on to Sadie’s wrist. As choreographed, she twisted, yanking her arm and sending him hurtling into a coffee table.
One, two, three. Ryan flowed through the move, pivoting to land on his back, the table exploding beneath him as planned. Made of balsa wood, the prop crumpled easily. The crash didn’t sound very impressive, but they would fix that in post-production.
Body tense, Bo assessed the actors for damage. All the proper precautions had been taken, but things could still go wrong. If he sensed either of them were hurt, he’d signal for a break. Everything seemed fine, though, and he relaxed as Ryan shifted smoothly into the next part of the sequence, rolling to his feet and charging toward Sadie.
It was a tricky combination that required the actor to come in low and fast. Bo narrowed his eyes, watching as Sadie subtly bent her knees. Not so much that it would show she’d anticipated the move, but enough to allow her to brace for impact.
A millisecond later, Ryan thrust his shoulder into Sadie’s torso and hefted her off the ground, effectively sandbagging her. From here, it looked as if she’s had the wind knocked out of her, but as long as she kept her core tight while Ryan hefted her over his shoulder, she’d be fine. In seconds they’d hit their mark for the final moment.
And then, as Sylvia had instructed, Ryan bent his head and pressed his lips to Sadie’s.
Even though the kiss wasn’t part of Bo’s choreography, wasn’t his job or his business, fuck if he would tear his eyes away from the action. He shouldn’t care that they were kissing. They were actors, and this was supposed to be fake, as Sadie had reminded him the other day.
And he’d told her she needed to learn how it felt for real.
Something rattled deep in Bo’s chest. Growing up with little to call his own, Bo had developed a hell of a possessive streak. Some might call it jealousy, and maybe it was. All he knew was that once he claimed something as his, nobody better fucking mess with it.
Sadie wasn’t an object to be owned, wasn’t his property. Bo got that. But once upon a time, she had been his.
And he’d let her go.
Like Ryan’s character, Christian, Bo knew what it was to fear the woman you loved was about to head down a path you couldn’t follow. But unlike Christian, Bo hadn’t tried to force Sadie to stay with him.
Instead, he’d forced her to leave him.
Bo still believed he’d done the right thing. Done what was best at the time. Back then, they’d lived in different worlds. Their lives so far apart, they might as well have been on different planets, in different orbits. He never could have imagined their paths would cross again, and definitely not like this.
Shaking away the memories, Bo packed up his personal feelings and buckled in for a long day. Even though this run went perfectly, multiple takes were required to ensure Sylvia and her team had all the angles and shots they wanted.
Several hours and more fake kisses than Bo cared to count later, the director announced she was ready to move on. Bo could chill now, his job in the scene was over. But he wanted to watch Sadie perform this next part. Besides, he’d decided he wasn’t leaving the set today without talking to her. He’d put it off long enough.
How much to tell her, though? Was there anything he could possibly say that would make Sadie understand what he’d done? Or why? She was still pissed at him—that much he knew from the bits of the past that had leaked into their interactions on set.
What would happen once he’d explained himself? What did he hope for? Forgiveness? Friendship?
A second chance?
Lost in thought, Bo was caught off guard when he looked up and realized they’d starting filming again. The entire soundstage was still, silent save for the sharp metallic snip of the scissors echoing in a haunting rhythm. He glanced around at the frozen crew, following their rapt gazes to where Sadie stood on one side of a prop mirror, its open frame allowing the camera to zoom in on her face. A lump formed in the back of Bo’s throat as he turned to watch her, mesmerized like everyone else.
Jaw tight, cheeks shining with tears, striking violet eyes staring straight into the lens as she grabbed clumps of her hair, Sadie’s pain was a tangible thing. Dark and bitter, it floated on the air, settled all around him. Seeped into his skin.
When it was over, when her hair was nothing but a mass of short, spiky thatches, Sadie dropped the scissors. They clattered to the floor, and the jarring sound broke the spell. The room exhaled—as if everyone had collectively been holding their breath and had let go at once.
From somewhere in the back, a crew member began to clap. Soon others joined in and moments later, the entire production staff was on their feet, applauding Sadie’s performance.
She dipped her chin and ran a hand over her newly shorn locks, then bowed, acknowledging their approval. As the clapping subsided, Sadie hurried toward the director’s platform and fell into conversation with Sylvia.
Bo collapsed into one of the camp chairs. He’d known she was a good actress, but whoa.
Ryan sauntered over, eating something from a plastic container. Bo glanced at the contents, mouth curling in distaste at the substance that defied description. He wasn’t even sure it was food. “What the fuck is that shit?”
“That’s a good guess,” Ryan joked, scooping up a forkful. “But I don’t think it’s actually shit. Not this time. When I posted a picture, one of my fans suggested it might be tofu Swedish meatballs.” He shoved the gooey, congealed mass in his mouth and chewed.
Bo recoiled, but morbid curiosity prompted him to ask, “What’s it taste like?”
With some effort, Ryan swallowed his mouthful. “Shit.”
Bo laughed. “Guess I was right the first time.”
“What’s so funny?” Sadie asked, sidling up next to Ryan.
“My dinner,” Ryan snarked, setting the container aside. “Holy monkey balls, that was amazing, Gold. You’re good. Really good.” Ryan raised a hand to give her a high-five.
The jealous asshole in Bo decided to assume the actor was talking about Sadie’s jaw-dropping performance just now, and not referring to her kissing skills from earlier.
“Ah, thanks,” Sadie murmured, sinking into the chair next to Bo’s.
“It was very … real,” Bo agreed.
She froze, turning to look at him, cheeks pale and streaked with the remnants of her tears.
“Hey,” he began, “once we wrap for the day, do you want to go somewhere and talk? Maybe grab a drink?”
Violet eyes guarded, she considered him. After a moment, her face relaxed and a small apologetic smile ghosted her lips. “I appreciate the invite, but I’ve got a date with Zara. She’s going to try and tame this mess for me.” She ran a hand over the top of her head.
“Dude.” Ryan chortled. “I think she just shot you down with the sorry-I-can’t-I’m-washing-my-hair excuse.”
“What? No.” Sadie turned to Bo. “I mean, I really can’t tonight. But,” she hastened to add, “if you’re not busy on Saturday, I do have an idea.”
“I’m not busy,” Bo said, pulse tripping. “What did you have in mind?”
“Apple picking.”
“Pardon?” Bo asked.
“Apple picking,” she repeated. “At an orchard.”
“Well, that sounds delightfully domestic,” Ryan cooed, dropping into the chair on Sadie’s other side.
If part of his paycheck didn’t currently depend on the bastard’s good looks, Bo would have considered decking the annoying fucker. Instead, he kept his attention on Sadie. “Since when do you go apple picking?”
“I don’t,” Sad
ie admitted. “It was Ana’s idea. You remember my best friend, Ana?”
Bo nodded, the name conjuring memories of a girl with long black hair and bright green eyes who’d always reminded him of his sister. He’d liked Ana. She was one of the few people from Sadie’s world who’d treated him kindly. With respect.
“Who’s Ana?” Ryan asked.
“A friend.” Sadie smiled.
“A hot friend?”
“Come apple picking with us on Saturday and see for yourself.” Sadie winked. “I’ve been told there’ll be donuts.”
“What time?” Ryan asked eagerly.
Before Bo knew it, he’d been roped in to what felt an awful lot like a double date at an apple orchard this Saturday morning.
CHAPTER 10
SATURDAY, OF COURSE, was gorgeous. Sadie woke to a brilliant blue sky, not a hint of a cloud anywhere to be seen. She’d secretly hoped it might rain. But nope. Today just had to be a storybook, Hallmark-movie-perfect fall day. She moped to the bathroom and almost screamed when she turned the light on. Her hair. Holy shit, her hair.
Zara had cleaned up the worst of the damage, shaping the ragged strands into a funky asymmetrical bob. No, a bob was too generous a word for the amount of hair left on her head. A pixie cut, maybe? Though that still sounded cuter than what Sadie had going on. More whimsical.
There was nothing whimsical about the way she looked right now.
Groaning, Sadie set about brushing her teeth. She didn’t feel very whimsical either. She could admit to herself, she was a vain person. She usually liked the way she looked and almost always felt pretty. But this morning, she did not feel pretty. Acknowledging that stung. It was just her hair. Her face hadn’t changed. Her eyes were the same, still the unique violet most people assumed were contacts. Her nose, her cheeks, her lips—none of it had changed. And yet, she felt different. Stripped. Unpretty.
Maybe she’d take Ana up on her offer to go wig shopping. And not just to appease her vanity. So far, Sadie had flown under the media radar. The movie had been getting some early buzz, but most of it was focused on the author of the book the film was based on. As publicity for the film ramped up, however, Sadie was sure to be recognized around the city more often, especially with such a … unique look.
Because she needed to feel more like herself, and not because she was seeing Bo today, Sadie took extra care with her makeup. Then she slipped into some of her frilliest underwear. An adorable matching set the color of ripe cherries with lace scallops trimming the bust and hips.
The only thing she loved shopping for more than shoes was lingerie. Her friends gave her shit for having a panty addiction, and Sadie didn’t bother to deny the accusations. They were right. She couldn’t help herself. She adored underthings. Fun and flirty or sexy and sassy, Sadie loved it all. And bought it all.
And she always had to match her underwear to her outfit. Which was why she decided to wear a dress in the same cherry-red color as her panties. A comfy cotton number in a gingham pattern. Not too fancy and not too short, the hem fell just above her knee.
It might not be the most practical outfit to go apple picking in, but she didn’t care. She did draw the line at visiting an orchard in heels, though. Forgoing her closetful of designer shoes, Sadie chose a pair of sensible, sturdy Converse sneakers. With one last look in the mirror, she decided she looked quite stylish. Cute, even.
Less than an hour later, she was waiting on a bench at the train station, staring at the toes of her sensible, sturdy sneakers.
“Don’t we look adorable,” Ana said, sliding on to the bench next to Sadie and checking out her haircut. “I love it.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Ana assured her, gaze dropping to take in the rest of her. “The Chucks are cute too.”
“Thanks.” Sadie smiled, grateful Ana didn’t make a big deal about her hair and relieved she didn’t give her any shit about the dress. Sadie wasn’t in the mood to explain herself. Not even to her best friend. “Bo’s meeting us at the orchard. Ryan’s train should be here any minute now.”
As if on cue, a roll of thunder rumbled down the tracks and a train hurtled into the station. Sadie scanned the crowd of people spilling out on to the platform and caught a familiar figure walking toward them. Wearing faded jeans and a hoodie, a pair of aviator sunglasses hiding most of his face, Ryan was dressed to blend in. With one hit movie already under his belt, her costar was much more likely to be recognized than she was.
“Morning.” He leaned over and ruffled Sadie’s newly shorn locks. “Wow, Gold.”
“Hey now, don’t do that,” Ana said, standing up, her husky voice sharp with an edge of warning.
“Huh?” Ryan’s arm fell to his side, and he glanced up in surprise.
Sadie waved a hand between them. “Ryan, this is Ana.”
“Nice to meet you.” His gaze snagged on Ana’s chest, but quickly kept moving up to her face, where it stayed.
Hmm. He was smarter than she gave him credit for.
“Hi, Ryan,” Ana purred, voice low and almost dangerous as she shook his hand. “You wanna keep this hand? Don’t touch her hair like that again.”
Well, this was off to a great start. Sadie glanced at her costar, gauging his reaction.
Rather than be upset by Ana’s threat, Ryan seemed amused. He relaxed, easing into a lazy grin. “She doesn’t mind.” He cocked an eye back at Sadie. “Do you, Gold?”
Okay, maybe not that smart. “Actually.” Sadie also stood, pulling herself up to her full height, all five feet and one-half inches, maybe even more, if she counted the spikes of hair sprouting from the top of her head. “I do mind.”
Ryan’s grin faded. “You do?” He looked dumbfounded, as if such a possibility had never occurred to him. “Look, if I crossed a line,” he mumbled, groping for an apology, “I’m sorry.”
“Here’s a piece of free advice,” Ana said, emerald eyes flashing. “A good rule of thumb is to never touch a woman, never touch anybody, unless you know for sure they are cool with it.”
“You’re right. That’s good advice.” Ryan nodded. “Thanks.” He cleared his throat, his words sincere as he turned to Sadie. “Sorry about that. It won’t happen again.”
“Apology accepted.” In what was quickly becoming a habit, Sadie brushed her hand over the top of her spiky new do. “And I can understand the temptation. It is pretty wild, right?”
“I’m telling you, I love it,” Ana insisted, leading them across the platform toward the parking lot. She clicked a button on her key fob, unlocking her car. “It looks freaking amazing. Totally badass. Like a rock star.” She got in the driver’s seat and tilted her head, considering her reflection in the rearview mirror. “Maybe I should give the style a try.”
“Are you kidding?” Ryan piped up from the backseat. “How could you even think about getting rid of all that gorgeousness?”
Ana shifted her focus, narrowing her eyes at him in the rearview mirror.
“Right.” Ryan shrunk back, looking sheepish and contrite and ready to hide in the trunk. “Not my business.”
“You’re learning.” Icy glare melting, Ana’s lips softened into a smile. “I do appreciate the compliment, though.”
At the playful shift in her tone, Ryan perked up, mood bouncing back with the ease. “I could go on, you know.”
Ana laughed. A husky, flirty sound. “Maybe later, cowboy.”
Climbing in next to Ana, Sadie hid a smile. The games had begun.
* * *
Bo parked his motorcycle in the shade of a wooden shack and glanced up at the sign hanging from the side of the building advertising HOMEMADE CIDER DONUTS Another sign swung below it, the words HOT AND FRESH painted in bright red letters.
He scanned the busy parking lot. All around him, people bustled past. Families pulling wagons and pushing strollers, couples holding hands, everyone laughing and smiling in the September sunshine. For the hundredth time, he wondered what the hell he’d been thinking.
Why had he agreed to come here today?
Before he could climb back on his bike and get the hell out of there, a sleek emerald convertible rolled to a stop in front of him. The car door swung open and a pair of Converse sneakers stepped out, crunching on the gravel. Bo’s gaze traveled over the sneakers, up the lean curve of muscled calves, past the pretty dress, to the even prettier face. Eyes the color of the flowers that grew in the meadow back home met his.
Those eyes held the answer he’d been looking for—the reason he’d agreed to be here. No one ever made him feel the way Sadie did when she looked at him. All these years later, her eyes still held the same magic—still put the same spell on him.
Bo glanced away, catching his reflection in the side mirror of his bike. Take a good look, man. He’d been feeding himself a line of bull. Sure, he wanted to find a moment to talk to Sadie about their past. But not only so he could clear the air. He wanted to know if she still had any feelings for him.
Because he sure as hell still had feelings for her.
The car door shut, knocking Bo out of his musings. “You came,” Sadie said, her tone clearly indicating she’d had her doubts.
“I did.” Bo nodded. She didn’t need to know he’d been seconds away from backing out.
“When did you get a motorcycle?” she asked, glancing over at his ride.
“A long time ago.” He kept his voice neutral. She also didn’t need to know he’d traded in his car for the bike the morning after they’d broken up. Didn’t need to know about the little issue of a smashed windshield he’d had to deal with.
“Sweet ride,” Ryan said, breaking the rising tension as he hopped out of the back seat, slapping Bo on the shoulder in greeting.
“A chopper,” Sadie’s friend Ana added, full lips quirking. “Very bad boy of you.”
“She’s not a chopper.”
“But are you still a bad boy?” Ana rejoined.
Bo chuckled, grinning at the dark-haired woman he hadn’t seen since they were teenagers. “Nice to see you again, Ana.”
“Nice to see you too.” Ana patted Bo’s cheek. “I like the beard.”
Once Upon a Bad Boy--A Sometimes in Love Novel Page 9