“Mr.McCord.” A waitress had slinked up to their table.
She was a beautiful girl, tall, pale, brunette and willowy, in a short black skirt and a white blouse open two buttons. She was clutching what appeared to be her own head shot, of all things. “I amsucha fan,” she gushed nervously, but she wasn’t too nervous to lean down a bit in case he might want a little cleavage with his wine. She bent so low, even Britt got a look in there. Admittedly, a decent rack, but Britt thought her own measured up nicely. “Would you please—”
Britt had never seen someone smile another person into silence, but J. T. was doing it now.
His eyes were doing most of the work. They were like steel gates slamming down.
The sheer force of his personal authority and displeasure came off him like steam and his smile was practically a weapon.
The poor girl—Britt could think of her that way now—was frozen in place.
And if that girl was a little nervous before, she was alotnervous now.
“I’m afraid we have an urgent situation,” J. T. said pleasantly to her. “Would you be so kind as to ask your boss to come to our table immediately?”
She was off like a shot.
He turned back to Britt. His expression was thunderous.
She was frankly awestruck by what she’d just witnessed. J. T. McCord possessed the rare ability to be hot and charming and scary all at once, and he knew how to get what he wanted. She’d witnessed a variation on that theme with the snapped pool cue at the Misty Cat.
And he was clearly pissed off.
“Do you get used to it?” she tried.
“You just learn how to deal with it,” he said. “I don’t know that you get used to it. It’s all part of it. Sometimes it’s fun. Maybe a lot of times. Other times...”
“Maybe you have to ease back into it. Do sprints.”
He grinned at that. Sprints reminded him of a certain oak table on a house he’d just bought, and that’s exactly what she was intending.
“Don’t worry, Britt. She was leaning pretty far over but I’ve seen breasts before.”
He was a devil.
“Oh, I wasn’t worried,” she said idly. “I have a sense for where mine belong in the rack hierarchy.”
“Rack hierarchy?” he repeated slowly. “Sweetheart, I’d put them right on top.”
She laughed.
“You need to go back to work pretty soon, right? Get right back into the thick of all this kind of thing?”
“I have a few weeks before it all hits. I have a meeting with the location manager ofThe Rushand another with the director, and then I’m headed to Napa for Felix Nicasio’s wedding. He was the producer ofBlood Brothersand I’m supposed to give a toast. I don’t have a single idea what I should say. And then after that I start back to work in earnest.”
And that would be the end of his downtime. He’d be swept right back into the current of his old life, and Britt could remain on the island of Hellcat Canyon with her memories.
She unconsciously pulled her hand way.
“You were telling me about your family?”
“Oh yeah,” he said, a little jarred that she’d taken her hand. “For the most part my family is pretty undistinguished, and that’s putting it really mildly. Unless you count good bone structure and a way with the opposite sex. You like kids, Britt?”
Holy shit.Thatwas so sudden it felt like an ambush.
She was so startled she couldn’t speak.
“Love them,” she said faintly.