Hot Winter Nights

She was guessing that the way he’d handled the runaway horse, shutting out everything around him, his focus laser sharp until it was just him and the stallion, was what had drawn Jason’s attention.

As they drove down Main Street, she studied Clint’s profile, seeing him just as the camera would see him.

With his strong stubbled jaw and intense gaze, he was the quintessential cowboy hero. On the other hand, she could just as easily picture him as an outlaw, his face on an old West wanted poster. Either way the camera would love him.

“You know what, it might be fun,” she said. “Something different.”

“What?”

“Being in the film. It’s not like learning a role. But I should point out that while you’d be considered an extra, you won’t be just a face in the crowd like the others. The director will want some close-ups and shots of you standing alone, apart from the action. A shadowy red herring.”

Clint looked at her as if she’d forgotten to brush her teeth.

Lila grinned. “There’s no speaking involved, and if you’re worried about looking stiff, I could coach you.”

He didn’t respond but turned off the highway onto a gravel road. She’d forgotten what a short ride it was between town and their camp. Out here among the bare trees, pines and thick underbrush, it seemed they were miles away from civilization. They’d been lucky to find a clearing large enough to accommodate the trailers and temporary corrals.

“Where to?” Clint asked, slowing the truck to a crawl to avoid crew members walking around in their own little worlds.

“Past the catering truck and generators.” Lila pointed to the row of trailers. “The second one. Home sweet home. God, I’m sick of that tin box.”

“Is that where you work or...?”

“It’s where I sleep and keep my clothes and stuff. And what’s even better? I share it with two other women, one of whom happens to be a total slob.”

“Why would you stay there—is the motel full?”

Lila laughed. “No. The Boarding House Inn and the motel are reserved for the director and cast, the screenwriter, what we commonly refer to as above-the-line personnel. We peons get to live like we’re still in college.”

“And you’ve been on the road for how long?”

“Three months.” That it seemed more like a year probably had more to do with her recent lack of enthusiasm. “Oh, and Baxter gets to stay at the motel, but his uncle pays for that. It doesn’t come out of our budget.”

“Should I park?” Clint asked, sounding uncertain. “Or am I just letting you off?”

Lila glanced at the dark trailer. “My roomies aren’t here. No telling what it looks like inside, but if you don’t mind risking exposure to nuclear waste, you’re welcome to come in.”

He stopped the truck. “Okay if I park here?”

Lila chuckled. “Sure.”

The slight jitter in her tummy was ridiculous. Nothing was going to happen in the stupid trailer, she thought as she climbed out of the truck. She could be called to the set at any time. Or Shannon or Diane could show up.

Lila jumped out and hurried to the door. If the place was beyond disgusting, she’d discourage Clint from coming in. “So, have I completely ruined your perception of Hollywood and all its glamour?” she asked over her shoulder.

“To be honest, I hadn’t given it much thought one way or another.”

Of course he hadn’t. The world didn’t revolve around Hollywood. Something most people in the business often forgot, including herself.

She pushed the creaky door open. It wasn’t horrible inside; she’d seen it in worse condition.

“I guess I am surprised that making a movie doesn’t take more people.” He stopped on the first step and shook the rickety railing. “This is dangerous. It needs to be tightened,” he said. “I have tools in my truck.”

Lila stood just inside the door, staring at him. She couldn’t quite find her voice, or breathe for that matter. It was such a kind, unexpected offer. A small gesture, and yet not really small at all considering he didn’t know her.

He looked up, met her eyes and smiled.

“That’s nice—but it’s only three steps. No one uses the railing.”

“Wouldn’t take me long.” He pushed up the brim of his hat, the warmth in his eyes turning them a golden brown. “And I’d feel better.”

She held in a sigh. “As much as I appreciate it, my roommates could show up at any moment...”

Clint nodded. “Okay.”

Lila turned and grabbed a pillow off the floor, then kicked Shannon’s boots out of the way. Great. Diane had left her vibrator out. Lila dropped the pillow on it and spun to face Clint.

“So...” She shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He eyed the two unmade beds heaped with a mix of dirty and clean clothes. Tubes of mascara, pencil liners and palettes of eye shadow and nail polish in every possible color were scattered among dirty dishes.

Oh, dear God.

Lila spotted a second vibrator too late. Really, Diane? Two of them? The hot pink one was a doozy, too. Very fancy and clearly meant to leave no nook or cranny untouched.

Huh. Weirdly interesting. Lila would have to get a better look at it later.

Of course Clint spotted it right off. He frowned, angling his head to the side, as if he was trying to figure out how it worked.

“It’s not mine,” Lila blurted and felt her cheeks burn.

“Okay.” Clint gave a slow nod. “That’s what I thought it was,” he muttered, ending with a short laugh.

The place really was a disaster, and yet a minute ago Lila had decided it wasn’t so awful. When had she grown accustomed to living in a pig sty? When had her standards fallen so low?

“That’s my bed back there,” she said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “I make it every morning.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile, and she buried her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you come in here,” she moaned, her voice muffled.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not all that neat myself.” He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed lightly. “And I have two brothers, remember? Everything was always a mess at the house. You can talk to my mom. She’ll confirm it.”

Lila smiled a little, even though he’d just lied. His truck was spotless. She uncovered her face, but she kept her chin lowered and her gaze on his chest. “This movie is important. We’ve got a real chance to get a deal with a distributor and after having begged, borrowed and bartered, we’re still operating on fumes. That’s why we have limited crew. Those of us who’ve invested in the project are working twice as hard, doubling up and overlapping jobs. Doing anything and everything to make sure the film succeeds. I’ve put in every last penny I’d saved and then some. Erin did, too. This has been our dream since we were in the third grade.”

He kept massaging her shoulders and whispering that everything would be okay in that low velvety tone that was beginning to hypnotize her into believing him.

“I’m not complaining.”