“Uh, yes you are. He’s just being nice, and you’re blowing him off at every turn—” She cut herself off with a gasp. “Wait! Isthiswhy people think you’re difficult on set? Because you’re mean to production assistants?”
Chuck stopped walking so fast that she ran into his back. She hoped that didn’t already count as a no-touching infraction because there was nothing that she could have done to prevent it. He turned around and gave her a serious look. “I’m not mean to anyone on set. Especially not assistants.”
She recoiled from the look on his face. “Okay, sorry.”
He softened and shook his head. “Sorry. I guess he reminds me of someone, and it’s something I’d rather not think about.” He sighed. “It’s just hard to be around all this when I haven’t worked in a while. Kind of a slap in the face, you know?”
Olivia honestly had not thought of that. That it might be difficult for Chuck to be on what was for all intents and purposes a film set when he’d been struggling to find work.
“Sorry, Chuck. I didn’t think—”
He cut her off with a shake of his head. “It’s fine.” He looked over his shoulder toward the hall and then back at her. “Time to make some TV, I guess.”
Chapter
7
They spent about ten minutesunpacking together in the bedroom, mostly arguing over how to divvy up the hangers—Chuck relinquished five to her.Five!—before Olivia walked away, at the risk of snapping one and using it as a shiv. She decided to give him space with his precious clothes; she’d finish unpacking later. She didn’t have much time to kill anyway before a makeup team arrived to prepare her for the interview.
They set up in the bathroom—which did have two sinks, thank goodness—and attacked her with brushes and powders and sprays that left her glowing but wearing enough product to clear out an Ulta. When they finished, she blinked her false lashes at her reflection in the mirror. All made up, she bore an uncanny resemblance to her mother. One that settled an odd layer of discomfort over her like an itchy blanket.
The person who rigged her up with a microphone told her she had five minutes before she was needed out back. Though she’d interviewed her fair share of actors and visited plenty of sets, she felt completely out of her element being on the otherend of the deal. She planned to spend those five minutes taking deep breaths and figuring out how to stop fidgeting.
So far, she was failing at both.
“Hey. You okay?” She heard a familiar voice from behind her.
She turned to see Chuck in the doorway. With the crew out in the backyard setting up, they were alone for the time being. She didn’t know where Chuck had been while she was pampered and prepped, but he looked good enough to taste. He’d changed into a cream button-down that complemented the short, silky blue dress she’d put on, and he’d left the top two buttons open and rolled the sleeves. Chuck was well aware of how to highlight his features.
In truth, Chuck was one giant feature. Head to toe, he didn’t have a bad angle.
Olivia felt her knees give for an embarrassing second. She swallowed the carnal urge she always got at the sight of him and remembered she was preparing to film an interview for a TV show largely because of him, and she was not entirely happy about it. Also, she wasn’t allowed to touch him.
She turned back to the mirror and tugged at her dress, letting her annoyance back in. “I’m fine. This just isn’t exactly my comfort zone.”
He stepped into the bathroom, and she became very aware of his presence behind her. No one had spritzed her with perfume, and they probably should have since she was nervously sweating, but Chuck smelled divine. Something spicy and fresh at the same time, layered over the smell she’d come to know as justhim. She had to fight the urge to turn around and shove her nose into the familiar contours of his chest. “Ah, well, it’s mine, so I’m happy to give you some tips,” he said with a smug smile.
She watched her eyes roll a full loop in their reflection. “That won’t be necessary.”
A pause passed, and Olivia could feel every inch between her back and his front buzzing like an electrical storm. She could also feel his eyes taking in her appearance with a hunger that she hated to admit burned in her own belly.
“You look great,” he said, shyly, which was out of character for him. His compliment came off polite and like something one would say to someone they’d only recently met and had not yet crossed any boundaries with, and she and Chuck had crossed every boundary that existed.
She shot him a half glare in an effort to shield both her appreciation and reciprocal opinion and to remind him they’d laid ground rules.
“What?” he said with a sly grin. “There were no rules about compliments.”
“Well, maybe we should add some,” she said with a tilt of her chin.
His eyes took another indulgent tour of her curves. “Good idea. Especially if you’re going to walk around looking like this.”
Her cheeks burned. She turned around to face him. “Chuck, you can’t—”
He cut her off by gently cupping his hand over her mouth. His palm was warm and soft. He raised one finger to his own lips, pushing them out into a shushing shape, and shook his head. He took his hand off her mouth and pressed it over the tiny microphone clipped to her dress. Given its position and the cut of her dress, his hand rested right over her heart and halfway on her bare skin. She felt it blistering there. “Lesson number one: don’t say anything you don’t want people hearingwhen you’re wearing one of these. You never know who might be listening.”
She glanced down at his hand splayed against her chest, trying to gather her bearings, and reeling at the feel of his skin on hers.Of course, she thought, feeling foolish. Hot mics were the source of earth-shattering scandals. She didn’t even think that someone might have been listening.
She looked back up at Chuck and found a guarded earnestness in his eyes. “Got it. You better move your hand before they write us up for an infraction.”