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  Cassie shrugs and heads back toward her task. The wind picks up more. The air turns hazy with dust.

  Nate heads into the barn and returns with two cotton bandanas. He wets each one in the pump. He walks one over to Cassie.

  Nate: Here, tie this on. That storm is coming in faster than a brand new Dodge. I'm going to go out there and bring that idiot back in before he gets caught in it.

  Cassie ties the bandana around the bottom half of her face. Nate leans in to kiss her.

  I stared at Jameson over the edge of the wet bandana as he pressed his mouth against the cloth. Even though it was wet, I felt the heat of his mouth against mine. His eyes opened just as he broke the kiss. It was the first time we'd looked into each other's eyes since the morning in my bedroom, and it rattled me to my core. I missed him so much, I had to blink away tears. Thank goodness the dust was working with my mood.

  Nate: You need to get in the house and stay away from the windows.

  Nate reaches out and lightly touches her belly, then walks off screen. Cassie loses hold of a stocking and chases it across the yard. Wind picks up and dust is spraying the yard.

  The bandana was a prop but I was relieved to have it. The fine dust the special effects crew was using was annoying and harsh. I could taste it in my throat as I shielded my face with my arm and headed toward the runaway stocking. The industrial sized fan roared just a few feet away from my next mark. The wind felt way stronger than I'd expected. It was hard to see. I walked right past the stocking and had to spin back to retrieve it. I was sure Sawyer would yell cut and make us start again but the cameras rolled so I kept going. So did the wind and the dust.

  It took me a second of getting pelted with dust, which felt silky just a few seconds before but suddenly felt like sandpaper, before I knew something was wrong. The fake wind coming from the fifteen foot high industrial fan increased in speed and intensity. I was knocked to my knees. Grit was flying at me so hard I had to curl into a ball to cover my face.

  I heard Sawyer yell cut several times, but the relentless wind pelted me with debris. It seemed I was getting firsthand experience of being in an actual dust storm. This was what Cassie had to endure, I thought as I curled tighter into a ball. In the chaos, I heard a crew member yell back that the motor was jammed. I scrunched even tighter into a ball, bending the prop belly. I tried to disappear into nothing. Still, the wind battered me. It was getting hard to breathe, even curled in on myself as I was. My teeth filled with grit and the bitter taste of dirt filled my mouth. I couldn't move out of my protective shell without having dirt fill my eyes, nose and lungs.

  "Cut the fucking fan," I heard people yelling, but no one seemed to know how to stop the monstrous machine.

  Panic began to set in just as a hand grabbed my arm. "Press your face against me, Keezy," Jameson said between coughs. He yanked me off the ground, into his arms and away from the menacing wind. Seconds later, the roar of the fan motor slowed, then came to a stop.

  Jameson carried me across to the shade of the canopy over Sawyer's chair. He sat me in the director's chair. He was still wearing the wet bandana, but mine had fallen free somewhere in my curled up state. His hair was filled with dirt and the top half of his face, the part not protected by the bandana, was covered in a thin layer of dust. He lifted my chin to look me over, like a doctor might do during an exam. Someone shoved a glass of water in my hand. I poured some in my mouth and motioned everyone out of the way so I could spit. It looked like the color of mud. I repeated the rinse and spit a few times, then rested back against the chair.

  Sawyer strode over after reading the riot act to the tech in charge of the fan. "How are you doing, kiddo? That was quite the blast."

  "I take it I wasn't supposed to get knocked to my knees." My voice sounded thin and reedy. I was still dealing with dirt in my throat.

  "Stupid fan decided to flip to high and the switch got stuck." Sawyer pulled a tissue out of his pocket and wiped it across my forehead but gave up on the clean up task quickly. "Guess we need to get you to your trailer for a shower. I'm afraid we'll have to shoot this one again."

  "Keezy needs to rest first," Jameson said sharply. "Shit, Sawyer, that was fucked up. How the hell did that happen? She could have been hurt."

  His genuine worry tugged at my heart. With an entire crew standing around helplessly wondering what to do about the out of control fan, it seemed Jameson was the only person willing to risk walking straight into the dust and wind to pull me out. And still, we had a hard time looking at each other. I wondered if it was always going to be this awkward between us now. It sucked, big time.

  Shelby came elbowing through the concerned onlookers. "Oh my gosh, I heard and wow," she said as she looked at me.

  "I wonder if this is how the sandman looks?" I quipped.

  Laughter spread around the circle and helped assure everyone the leading lady would live to step in front of the camera again. They spread out and scattered to their various posts. Sawyer walked away to call the studio to get the number of the vendor who sold them the fan. Best friend that she was, Shelby waited a few feet off while I spoke to Jameson.

  "Thank you. There were at least twenty able bodied people standing around watching the female lead get buried alive, but you were the only person who stepped in to help me."

  He pulled his gaze away. It seemed it was easier for him to speak if he wasn't looking directly at me. I knew exactly how he felt.

  "Scared the shit out of me when I saw you huddled there in front of that crazy machine. Glad you're all right," he said, barely glancing my direction.

  "I am, thanks to you."

  I started to walk away. He took my hand for just a second. We froze like that, holding hands, his warm fingers wrapped around mine, then he released me. I hurried to Shelby and back to my trailer.

  Forty-Five

  Jameson

  Eight months later

  I stepped back to check out my tux. My hair had grown even longer during the backpacking trip I took through Europe to clear my head. I'd set myself a few new priorities while Orbit and I were trekking through the Alps. Take care of my own happiness and try not to give a fuck what anyone else thinks. I'd all but stopped looking at social media. I found it helped bring me some inner peace.

  I headed out to my wet bar. I needed a quick shot of whiskey before the limo arrived. I hated premiers. I hated the anticipation and the cameras and the inane interviews. But this premier was going to be harder than most. We finished up at the Mojave Desert location at the end of January. The rest of the filming had to do with scenes Sawyer had put off because we'd rushed to location to beat possible desert rain. None of those included me. I was just as relieved not to have to walk onto set and stand just feet and sometimes inches away from the woman I was, frankly, obsessed with. Kinsey had held it together until the end of filming. She had also stubbornly held to her belief that we couldn't be together because it made her look horrid. Harlow's dramatic posts only made things worse. At least for the first few months or so, then she magically got all better and found happiness with none other than our costar, Roger Evans. They were perfectly suited to each other. Sawyer was thrilled with the final cut of the movie, and he was certain we'd repeat the wild success of Forever Kisses. All I knew was that I would have been better off if we'd never started the damn movie.

  The limo pulled up to the driveway. I shot back the whiskey and patted Orbit on the head before walking out the door. The driver hopped out and opened the door. He looked expectantly up at the house. "Just you, Mr. Slate?"

  "Yes, flying solo this evening." I climbed inside. My phone buzzed the second I sat back against the soft leather seats. Drake had sent a picture with the caption, Kiki looks fucking amazing tonight. I opened the picture and gazed at it for a long time. She was wearing a bright blue dress that complimented the natural tan of her skin. Her auburn hair had grown out of the style she wore as Cassie. She had one side clipped back with a diamond clip to show off the adorable dimple
on her right cheek. We'd exchanged texts a few times and spoken twice on the phone since filming ended. As much as it always felt right and awesome to be talking to her, it also left me with a big fucking hole in my chest each time. That damn hole just never closed up.

  I put the phone down and decided one more drink, a beer this time, might make this night easier. Drake sent a text. "Where the fuck are you? The reporters are going nuts looking for you."

  "I'm on my way."

  The beer went down smoothly. I almost considered a second but traffic was lighter than expected. I seemed to be the last person to arrive. I climbed out of the car, buttoned my coat and walked through the blinding hurricane of camera flashes. I heard my name being called from a million directions, but I focused on getting through the maze of cameras and fans to the entrance of the theater. Marley was the first to catch me.

  "There he is, my golden boy." She pinched my cheek like an aunt or grandma might do. "The critics are already talking Oscars. You guys did it." She pulled her silky shawl higher on her shoulders. She was sporting a new diamond necklace that looked as if it weighed ten pounds. "You and Kiki were a match made in heaven," she said. "I know it sounds cliché."

  "Sounds cliché? I think that is technically an actual cliché."

  "Ew, someone is full of vinegar tonight. Have you seen her yet?" She took my arm and led me closer to where the interviews were being conducted.

  "I just arrived. And I assume you mean Kiki. No, not yet." There was nothing harder than being madly in love with someone from a distance when your entire career was so tightly entwined with that person.

  "Oh, there she is. She's just talking to Betty Norbitt. Norbitt always asks the silliest questions." Marley coaxed me toward the interview area. "You need to get your face out there. Everyone has been looking for you. Oliver Eaton is right there. He's been begging me to get you over to his camera and microphone. It's a good place to start. And Kinsey is right next door. Maybe you can talk her out of her crazy plans."

  "What crazy plans?" I asked as she pushed me closer to the interview area.

  "She hasn't told you? She's planning on leaving the business." With that explosive declaration, she rushed off to talk to another agent.

  There were few things I hated more than live interviews, but Sawyer had been bugging me to get in a few before the premiere. These impromptu ones were easier and less formal than most. Oliver Eaton was a tall thin man who always wore a gray velvet tux and bright blue bow tie for these occasions. His face lit up when he saw me step into view.

  "Oh my gosh, we've finally got the leading man, folks," he cheered into his microphone. His long white fingers grabbed my arm, and he pulled me in front of the camera. Kinsey was just ten feet away with the Norbitt interview. Our gazes clashed and stuck together for a long moment. She cast me a sweet, sly smile. It was just enough to help me get through the next few minutes.

  Oliver's fake, over the top cheer disappeared as he was tapping his ear piece. He spoke into a microphone on his lapel. "What do you mean you've lost audio? I've got Jameson Slate standing right here. Get the damn sound back on." Oliver plastered an apologetic and pleading grin on his heavily powdered face. "If you could just bear with us for a second. Technical difficulties." His grin vanished, and he whispered a good string of cuss words into his lapel microphone. I took the little break to listen to the neighboring interview. The cameras were clicking like crazy as everyone worked to get a shot of the leading lady. Drake was right. Kinsey looked fucking hot. Guess I didn't expect anything less.

  "What do you think it is about the book that has fans so enthralled?" Betty asked Kinsey.

  "Well, it's humorous and you feel every emotion as if you're right there with Cassandra. It speaks of the unbelievable strength of women and the impossible heartbreak of true love." Kinsey's blue eyes landed on me for a second before focusing back on Betty. "We all like to believe that there is a soul mate here on earth, a person who owns your heart, even if you can't be with the person. Cassie and Nate knew they were each other's soul mates. That's what pulls readers through the story."

  "And have you found your soul mate here on earth?" Betty asked.

  Kinsey's gaze fell on me again. She stared at me for a long moment. She looked back at Betty. "Yes, yes I have."

  "There we are." Oliver's voice popped me out of my thoughts. "Sound is back. Now tell us, Jameson, what was the best part of working on Diary of a Mail Order Bride?"

  I looked at him. "Working with Kinsey again. She is fun and real and she's like no one else I know."

  I quickly answered the rest of the questions when I noticed that Kinsey had finished and she was heading into the theater. It seemed she came with Shelby. I was relieved as hell to see she hadn't come with a date. I rushed past a few other grabby interview hands to catch up to her. Shelby instantly came up with an excuse that she saw someone she just had to talk to, leaving the two of us alone. If you didn't count the two hundred photographers who had rushed over to get pictures of the two of us standing together.

  "How was Europe? I loved that picture you sent of Orbit with his winter beanie. It's the wallpaper on my phone right now."

  "Europe was awesome."

  "Kinsey, Jameson, this way please!" a photographer shouted. We turned several directions for a few minutes.

  "How about a kiss?" someone yelled.

  "I think they've taken enough pictures." I put a possessive hand on her back to move her away from the cameras. I always had a hard time not thinking of her as my very own Kinsey. I'd always felt an overwhelming need to protect her, to take care of her. Even though she was a superbly independent woman, my protective, possessive instincts still kicked in when I was around her.

  We managed to find a quiet spot just inside the theater door. I caught a glimpse of Roger and Harlow talking to a circle of business big shots. If the movie did well, it would certainly give Roger a big career push.

  It had been a long while since Kinsey and I had stood so close. Her lips were coated with lush pink gloss, and I badly wanted to kiss them. "Marley says you're leaving the business," I said.

  Long, dark lashes curtained her eyes as she dropped her gaze to the floor. "I'm thinking about it," she said quietly. "This town is as wonderful as it is toxic. I think I'm just not tough skinned enough for it." Her eyes sparkled. "I didn't tell you—remember that farm I was looking at, the one near Santa Barbara?"

  How could I forget that? One minute we were naked in bed together and everything was back the way it was supposed to be, Keezy in my life and the two of us madly in love. The next she was telling me she couldn't go through with any sort of happily ever after because people would hate her for it.

  "Yeah, that was a pretty cool place," I answered.

  "I bought it. I'm officially a farmer. Or, I will be once escrow closes. Even have names for my future chickens."

  I chuckled. "What made you decide to jump into the whole farm thing? Was it just to get away from this city?"

  "I think Cassie inspired me. It sounded so wonderful, the ending, you know when Nate and Cassie and baby Nancy headed out to California to buy some land and start a new life. Just thought I'd try something new too."

  "Good for you, Keezy. If it makes you happy, then it makes me happy."

  "Kinsey, I've been trying to talk to you all night," George Titus, a big shot producer, called from behind.

  Kinsey smiled sweetly at me. "Guess I'll go see what George wants. Maybe we can have a coffee sometime."

  "Yeah, sure."

  She walked away.

  Forty-Six

  Kinsey

  I finished putting away the last set of dishes into the kitchen cupboard and looked out the window to check on the chickens. They were busy picking up the last of the feed from the yard. The house was more than a century old, but it had been upgraded to a spectacular modern home, convenient but with all the charm left intact. A carriage house and small barn finished off the buildings on the property. It was definitely a b
it more posh than the one Cassie and Nate lived in, but I was sure she would have approved. Everything was picture perfect, only I was missing one thing. I was missing my Nate.

  Puppy paws skittering across the tile floor assured me that Bucky, my new puppy, was up from his nap. He tended to go and go like an out of control ping pong ball, then he would just drop onto his pillow dead tired and be out for an hour.

  "I suppose you're hungry for a yummy cookie." He sat directly in front of the doggie cookie jar, which I interpreted as an enthusiastic yes.

  The rescue farm had no idea what breed Bucky was, but I'd determined he was one part adorable and one part ridiculous. His massive paws seemed to indicate that he was going to need a much bigger pillow in the near future.

  He grabbed the treat and flopped directly down to eat it. My phone buzzed on the kitchen island. It was yet another text from Marley letting me know that the offers were flowing in and would I please consider coming in to talk about the offers. I texted back this time. "Give me a few more months of freedom and we'll talk. Please." I added in a smiley face.

  The movie had been a mega hit as big or possibly even bigger than Forever Kisses. After yanking me over the coals and pointing fingers at me for the Jameson and Harlow breakup, the fans were begging for Cassie and Nate to get back together. Once again, we were a beloved fictional couple. No one ever seemed to realize that there were real people with real feelings behind the characters.

  I'd been keeping track of Jameson's career. Shelby had been the last to bring me the news that he had signed a big three movie deal with Andrea Smart, a huge director who was considered at the top of the industry at the moment. I was happy for him, even though I was sad for myself. I'd blown my own happiness by being too worried about what everyone thought of me. Harlow's big, dramatic posts had been a bunch of bullshit. I now saw her main motive was to make sure that Jameson and I didn't end up together.