Hero for Hire

by Cat Johnson

  I’d gone from high school, to Dusty’s girl, to single mother so fast I’d missed a few steps in between.

  Jamey might be my first long-term interaction with an adult male who wasn’t related to me somehow.

  And after what I’d found on Google—pictures of Jamey shirtless, and bottomless, I was reminded there were a lot of things I hadn’t experienced in a long time with any man.

  “Maisie.” Jamey’s question brought my attention off my non-existent sex life and back to him.

  “Yeah?”

  “I know it’s not a western and I’m not John Wayne, but I have copies of my movies. Do you think Charlie and your father might like to watch one sometime?”

  “Um, yeah, sure. Charlie and Dad would definitely like to see your movies. I’m sure.”

  Charlie and Dad . . . yeah, right. It had been my pulse that kicked into high gear when those still shots from the movie loaded on my cell phone’s browser.

  Jamey, dripping with sweat and shirtless in the boxing ring. Jamey, dressed in camouflage, soaking wet as he emerged from the ocean carrying a big gun as a SEAL. Jamey, rolling naked in bed with his beautiful co-star.

  It seemed his star power really shined when he was naked and wet. But no, not really, because as he beamed that thousand-watt silver screen smile at me now, I realized what his power really was.

  It was just . . . him.

  TEN

  JAMEY

  “So were there real bullets in the gun?” Charlie asked.

  I laughed. “No.”

  Charlie’s face fell.

  “But,” I continued. “The real life Navy SEALs in the shot wanted to use live rounds and the studio wouldn’t let them.”

  “Really?” he asked, wide-eyed.

  “Yup.” I nodded. “And, you know the explosion as we took the beach from the boat?”

  “Yeah?” Charlie nodded with so much enthusiasm he looked like a bobble head.

  “The SEALs wired that instead of our usual guys, and it was so huge it about knocked the camera crew on their ass—I mean butts.”

  Getting used to being around a kid was challenging. But it seemed he missed my use of a bad word in his excitement.

  “Oh my God. Really?” he asked.

  “Yeah. In fact, it did knock my co-star on her butt.” I grinned.

  “That’s because she probably weighs ninety pounds,” Maisie mumbled.

  My lips twitched. Was this jealousy? From Maisie? About me and Sierra? That was certainly interesting.

  My experience was short when it came to serious relationships, but I’d known enough women to realize where there was jealousy, there was interest.

  I looked to see her scowl. “Sierra’s fiancé is the SEAL who acted as technical consultant on the film to make sure we got the details right. And it was his teammate who arranged for us to use real SEALs from Coronado, and actual Navy Zodiacs for the shot.”

  “Wow.” Charlie was impressed, but I was more concerned with what Maisie thought.

  The mention that Sierra was engaged, and to a Navy SEAL, seemed to lesson her scowl a little.

  I grabbed the remote off the table. “There are some extras included on the DVD. Rick, that’s Sierra’s fiancé, took me to the O-Course. That’s what the SEALs call the obstacle course at Coronado.”

  “I can watch it?” Charlie’s eyes widened.

  “Sure. He ran it and then I did.” I laughed. “He did much better than me though.”

  I cued up the footage they’d cut together into a mini documentary for promotion. Charlie moved closer to the television, sitting on the floor right in front of the screen to watch.

  I glanced at Maisie. “I think he liked the movie.”

  “I think so too. And thanks so much for showing my ten-year old son an R-rated sex scene.” She cocked one brow high.

  I cringed. “Sorry. I forgot about that.”

  “How could you forget that? I mean she’s beautiful . . . and naked.” She whispered the last word with a glance at her son.

  I lifted one shoulder. “That stuff’s not romantic. It’s work. There’s a room full of people shouting orders at me. Lights and body make-up. Cameramen in your face and up your ass—I mean butt.” I caught myself and shot Charlie a glance, but he was enthralled with the interview on screen.

  I saw a shot of me standing with Rick in front of the course.

  “And that’s Sierra’s fiancé.” I tipped my chin toward the television. “So you can see, there was no risk of her, you know, falling for me just because we starred together.”

  I laughed.

  She didn’t. “I don’t know. He’s got nothing on you.”

  My gaze moved from the screen to her. I couldn’t help my smile. “He’s got plenty on me, but thanks.”

  Maisie focused on me. “Are you really this modest or is it all an act?”

  I lifted my brows, surprised. “I don’t know. I just say what I’m thinking.” I shrugged. “I don’t lie.”

  “No, I don’t think you do.”

  That was an odd comment from her. I had no college degree. I’d gone from public school to Walt’s gym. That was the extent of my education, but as far as life experience, it was a good one. I could read people and I felt like I’d gotten a pretty good reading on Maisie in the week that I’d known her.

  What I knew was she was suspicious. Of me. Of all men probably, except for her father. And the cause of that I could probably lay square on Dusty’s shoulders.

  He might not be in her life romantically, but he stood between us now.

  Whatever he’d done to her in the past was an obstacle in the way of my being with her as something more than a student and teacher relationship.

  In less than three weeks I wouldn’t be her student anymore but I had no intentions of saying goodbye. I’d conquered the Coronado O-Course. I’d get over an obstacle like Dusty too. No problem.

  The clip on screen ended and Charlie was back, bouncing onto the sofa between Maisie and me. “I can’t wait for Grandpa to see this.”

  “Oh, Charlie. It’s Jamey’s DVD so—”

  “Nope. It’s yours. Keep it. I can get more.” I turned to the boy. “You think your grandpa will like it? It’s not a western.”

  “But it’s got guns.” He grinned.

  “Yes, it does. Good point.” I laughed and turned to Maisie. “Where is Grandpa tonight?”

  “That is a very good question.” Her gaze cut to Charlie. “Hey, why don’t you go get us those cookies Grandpa bought. They’re on the counter in the kitchen.”

  He was up and out of the room in a second flat. When he was gone she leaned a bit closer. “So, I think my dad might be seeing a lady friend.”

  “Really.” My eyes widened. “How intriguing”

  “It is. You don’t understand. Since my mother died when I was eight, he hasn’t seen anyone.”

  “That you know of,” I corrected.

  “Well, yeah. That’s true. But he never goes out at night. Usually he’s dozing in his chair during the seven o’clock news. But this month, he’s been gone more and more.

  “And where does he say he is?” I asked.

  “All sorts of excuses. Stock auction. Meeting buddies to watch sports. Bingo at the church. All things that he never used to do.”

  “Hmm. Yup. Sounds like a woman to me.” I grinned.

  “Stop being so amused. This is a big deal.”

  “Does it upset you?” I asked.

  “No. It’s just . . . odd. Different.”

  “Sometimes different is good.”

  Her gaze met mine. “Sometimes it is.”

  I decided to go for it. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. “So, you don’t date?”

  “No.” Her answer came quick, as if she’d delivered it too many times before.

  Though it wasn’t without a tinge of something else coloring it. Regret? Embarrassment?

  Something was behind her word. Or was that just wishful thinking on my part? And oh man, was I w
ishing.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “Well, there’s Charlie.”

  “What about him? He can stay with your dad or a sitter while you’re out, can’t he?”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “But?” I pushed when she didn’t complete her sentence.

  Speaking of Charlie, the boy was back, carrying a box of Girl Scout cookies and a glass of milk, proving he could take care of himself. “I poured milk for us but I couldn’t carry all the glasses.”

  I liked the kid—a lot—but his timing stunk.

  Maisie stood.

  “I’ll go get the other two glasses. And napkins and plates.” She widened her eyes at her son. “We don’t eat straight out of the box.”

  “Why not?” I asked. I reached for the cookies he’d dumped on the coffee table. “That’s the only way I eat.”

  I grinned at the boy as he nodded. “See, Mom.”

  “Yes, I do. Thank you, Jamey.”

  I laughed. I’d won over the boy. I had no doubt I could get her father on my side. Now all I had to do was win over Maisie.

  But even as she reprimanded me for encouraging bad habits in her son, I saw her mouth twitch with a smile.

  Maybe it wouldn’t be as hard as I thought.

  Standing, I glanced down at Charlie. “I’ll go help your mom. Don’t eat all the cookies before I get back.”

  “Okay. I’ll save you one.”

  “One?” I asked in faux shock.

  “Okay. Two.”

  “Two for your mom too.”

  “Okay. Fine.”

  Satisfied Charlie would be occupied hoarding his cookie stash for a while I followed the path Maisie had taken to the kitchen.

  I saw her by the counter and said, “Hey.”

  “Hey. I was just about to bring these inside.”

  I took the two glasses of milk out of her hands and put them on the counter next to the stack of plates and napkins she’d set out. I took her hands in mine. “Go out with me.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?””

  “Go on a date with me.”

  “Like out-out?”

  “Yes, out-out. That’s usually what a date means. You know, going somewhere. Together.” I smiled.

  Her shock was adorable. I would have thought she’d be used to men asking her out but maybe not.

  She shook her head, wiping my smile from my lips. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Charlie—”

  “Charlie loves me,” I said.

  “My dad—”

  “Seemed like he liked me pretty well too. He likes me more than he does Dusty, that’s for sure.” I sniffed.

  “And then there’s Dusty.” She bobbed her head.

  “Who has no claim on you. You’re not together. You said so yourself.”

  She sighed. “Okay, the truth is, it’s you.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t be out in public with you. You’re a big star. I’m a cowgirl. I’m usually covered in shit most days.”

  I laughed. “You clean up great, I’m sure.”

  She shook her head. “No. I can’t.”

  “Then how about we don’t go out. We can stay in.” I liked that idea better anyway.

  I’d managed to dodge the paparazzi so far by leaving my house early every morning and driving the hour to the farm. They weren’t that interested in what I was doing at seven a.m. to follow me.

  But if I showed up in public at night with a mystery woman, it would be like blood in the water. The sharks would be all over me. Relentless.

  I didn’t want that. Not for me or for her.

  Then there was Jerry, who’d said hands off the teacher.

  He was used to working with the scumbags in Hollywood. This was different, but he wouldn’t understand that so for now what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  Yup. The more I thought about it, the more I liked this plan.

  She hadn’t said no to it yet, but she hadn’t said yes either.

  I squeezed her hands. “Please. One date. Not in public.”

  “But where would be go? What would we do?”

  I smiled. “Leave that up to me.”

  She sighed. “Okay.”

  Grinning wider, I said, “Tomorrow night. I don’t have a lesson so I’ll come over around six?”

  She blew out a breath. “Fine.”

  Not that I dated all that much. Lately, not at all, but I’d never had to work so hard to get a woman to agree to go out with me. Not before I was famous. Certainly not after.

  I kind of liked it. And I really liked her. And now that she’d agreed there was no way I was going to screw this up.

  ELEVEN

  MAISIE

  I was nervous.

  A date! What had I been thinking?

  My mouth was dry, but my armpits felt damp no matter how much antiperspirant I put on. I was a nervous wreck and it was manifesting itself by wreaking havoc on my body.

  It was like I was a damn schoolgirl again, about to go to my first middle school dance and I was the invisible girl who worked on stage crew while my date was the star quarterback.

  He was a star, all right. A Hollywood star surrounded by the most beautiful women in the world on a daily basis and here I was in the dress that I had bought almost ten years ago to wear to church for Charlie’s christening.

  It was casual but cute with a flouncy skirt that hit me just above my knee. Modest with a tiny cap sleeve, but sexy with its deep scoop neckline.

  I shook my head and looked at the mirror. The cornflower blue looked nice with my coloring. And I even had matching sandals. I’d only worn them that once so they were still in perfect shape. The tiny pink rosebuds on the pale blue fabric were still crisp, the color perky, just like new.

  Speaking of perky . . . I let my gaze fall to my breasts. The one, pretty much the only good thing about having Charlie when I was eighteen was that my boobs bounced right back, even after six months of breastfeeding.

  This dress had fit when I bought it back then. Back when I’d still had pregnancy boobs. Today, the bodice hung a little looser. A little lower.

  Okay, a lot lower, showing a good bit of the swell of my boob over the top edge of my bra.

  I plucked at the fabric, tugged it up half an inch and willed it to stay there. Of course, the minute I moved it slipped back down again. No leaning over tonight or Jamey would get an eyeful. If he did, he’d see the top lace edge of my one and only nice bra.

  Why was I wearing my good bra? Surely not because I expected Jamey to see it. I couldn’t let that happen. I’d had to wear my pretty bra because my usual ugly beige one would show with the low cut dress.

  This was all ridiculous anyway. We were staying in.

  What exactly did that mean anyway? What did he have planned?

  I didn’t know. But I did know that my father was, as had become his habit, out somewhere. And in a move that made me bad mom of the year, I’d cut Charlie’s grounding short and sent him to spend the night at his friend’s.

  The empty house. The cute dress. The lip gloss and blush. The fact I’d made sure I’d shaved bare . . . absolutely everywhere.

  Dammit. I did want to have sex with Jamey. I didn’t admit it to myself until right now but all the signs were there. I’d sure set up this old farmhouse for a night of carnal activity.

  I shouldn’t want to but he was so hot and I was so deprived.

  And he was also my student and a star I’d never see again after the month was up, which is why this was a monumentally bad decision.

  Maybe it was a good thing he’d leave and I’d never see him again. I couldn’t fall for him because this was all temporary. But I could enjoy him for a little while.

  My lady parts liked that idea. I tried to ignore that I’d been more aware of that region than I’d ever been. Jamey had woken it up and now it refused to go back into hibernation without being satisfied.

  I bet he was good at that. Satisfying
women.

  The thought of any other woman he’d been with twisted my stomach. Yesterday, tomorrow, neither mattered. I pushed it all aside.

  Tonight he would be with me.

  I’d go into this not thinking like a lonely romantic woman, but like a man. I’d enjoy it, then move on when the time came.

  That’s what Dusty did when he jumped from my bed to his truck bed with the buckle bunny of the day on the rodeo circuit right after Charlie was born.

  It’s what he did again after I finally had given in and slept with him a handful of years back, before I realized nothing had changed. He hadn’t changed.

  A round of penicillin later and I was a smarter woman. I’d never make that mistake again.

  Shit. Protection. What if Jamey didn’t have any? I should have gone shopping.

  Crap. This was why I didn’t date. In this town the choice was to risk the embarrassment and gossip of being seen buying condoms, or risk an STD.

  Lovely.

  I’d been better off when I’d been happily celibate. Stupid Jamey changed that.

  “Hello?”

  And there he was, knocking and yelling through the door. The siren who called to my va-jay-jay and made her mutiny against me.

  “Bastard better have condoms,” I mumbled as I stalked out of my bedroom and to the stairs.

  I grabbed the handrail and kept my eyes on the staircase. These feet hadn’t navigated any heels other than a cowboy boot in years. I figured I’d better hold on and watch where I was going.

  “Come on in!” I yelled on my way down.

  By the time I reached the next to the last step, I felt confident enough to glance up. I found Jamey inside, brown paper shopping bag in one hand, his mouth hanging open.

  He noticed me looking at him and I swear he blushed. I laughed, nervous. Surprised. Who was this man who was paid millions to kiss naked women on screen, yet blushed at being caught staring?

  “You look . . .” He shook his head and didn’t finish the sentence, just when I really wanted him to.

  “I look . . .” I prodded.

  “Fucking amazing.” He set the bag on the floor and strode towards me.

  With me on the stairs, I was eye level with Jamey. And what eyes they were. Gorgeous, intense, needy.