All Fired Up (31 page)
There’s more to life than playing make believe.
The Role of a Lifetime
© 2008 Jennifer Shirk
Sandra Moyer has a good reason to distrust actors. She was once married to one who left her and her child. However, she’s desperate for publicity to help her struggling preschool. Hollywood playboy Ben Capshaw’s request to access her classes to prepare for a role is an offer she can’t refuse.
Sandra second guesses herself on that decision until she sees Ben in action with the children. Her apprehension turns to wonder, and then to feelings she’d thought were closed off forever. Yet how can she trust that what she’s seeing is real?
As a boy, Ben learned that acting was the answer to everything. The role he’s up for now will enhance his career and, he’s sure, secure his happiness. But spending time with Sandra and her daughter stirs up emotions that—for once—aren’t pretend.
Ben’s ready for a lifetime role as husband and father—if he can convince Sandra not to typecast him.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
The Role of a Lifetime:
Ben had the nerve to pop his head in her office exactly two hours later. “Uh, do you mind if I wait in here while the parents pick up the kids?”
Still angry with him—and herself—Sandra didn’t bother to look up from writing at her desk. “You mean hide in here while the parents pick up their kids?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I mean hide,” he said with a trace of defeat.
She finally put her pen down and lifted her head. Ben was doing one heck of a personal repentant show for her, hovering in the doorway with wide eyes and his hands folded. She practically saw the halo hovering over his golden-brown head. “Okay,” she said. “Then no, I don’t mind.”
“Great. Thanks, Sandals.”
She looked at him sharply as he stepped in. Five seconds had barely gone by and he already had her back on the defensive. “That I do mind. My name is Sandra—not Sandals.”
“Yeah, I didn’t figure you for a nickname type of woman,” he agreed, looking pleased with himself.
“Good.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back against her door. “Ah, but you need to loosen up. That’s why I’m going to call you Sandals.”
“You know, typically a nickname is shorter than the given name.”
“Is it?” he asked in mock seriousness. “Oh. Well, tell you what, you can call me…”
She waited several beats, thinking of more than a few unkind examples. “I can call you what?” she finally asked.
“That’s it.” He shot her his bone-melting smile. “You can just call me. Anytime.”
She rolled her eyes, refusing to give in to the smile that threatened. “That sounds like a line from one of your movies.”
He shot her a triumphant look. “Ah, ha! I knew you were a fan.”
“Please. Don’t flatter yourself. I just meant that it sounds like a very generic line from a very generic movie,” she lied.
“Ouch.” He played wounded and made a show of sticking in and taking out a pretend knife from his gut.
She’d seen better performances by him.
“You know, it’s okay to admit the truth,” he told her. “It means you’re human.”
“I know I’m human, thank you very much.”
He chuckled. “Okay, if it makes you feel better, I’ll give you a truth. That’ll show you I can be human too.”
“I doubt one piece of trivia will accomplish that enormous feat.”
“Come on,” he cajoled, undaunted by her attitude. “It’ll pass the time while we wait for the kids to be picked up.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, like that twenty-questions game?”
He shrugged. “I was thinking more along the lines of truth or dare, but okay. We can play whatever game you like.” His gaze traveled over her body, slow and thorough, giving her an idea of where his thoughts were going.
A mixture of curiosity and excitement had her swallowing hard. But she hid her emotions with an amused huff as she stood and walked over to her filing cabinet. Ben was worse than Hannah, always wanting to play games. She didn’t have time to entertain his childish whims, even if they did seem…a little enticing. But she needed to find the number of a handyman. The building was falling apart, and a coat of paint might gloss over the many imperfections of it. Unfortunately, she was so intent on finding an old invoice, she didn’t notice Ben come up behind her until his hands braced the filing cabinet on either side of her, caging her in.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she asked, feeling her heart slam up against her chest so hard she jerked forward.
“Waiting to find out what game you want to play,” he whispered in her ear.
She felt a shiver and whirled around. “I…uh…Game?” She couldn’t think—or even breathe. He was standing so close he seemed to snatch up all the air around her, and for a split second, she almost felt faint because of it.
He smiled, and her throat constricted even more. “It looks like I’ll have to pick for you,” he said.
“I don’t—”
He kissed her then.
She couldn’t believe he kissed her. And what a kiss it was.
Feeling his hands travel up her arms and cup her face created an unfamiliar sensation she wasn’t prepared for. That’s why she kissed him back. It had nothing to do with the man himself. Or the incredible scent of his skin. Or the addicting taste of his mouth.
He pressed his body—the one she’d been so preoccupied with lately—against her, hard and firm, and she nearly died. His arms dropped and wrapped around her, holding on to her as if he were dangling off a bridge. He felt so good. It didn’t matter that she was kissing a famous movie star or what he must be thinking at that moment. Their tongues touched briefly, and it was all she could do not to open her mouth further. So she did.
How could she resist that kind of blatant physical hunger? It had been so long since she had felt or incited that kind of reaction. She found herself wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing herself further into him, enjoying his response. If Ben was just acting again, he was doing a fine job of it. Maybe too fine. However, she gave in to this small, reckless moment of a kiss anyway, willing her better judgment to take a short hike—for once.
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