Fairytale Love - Becca & Brian (14 page)

“Okay.” He nodded as he reached for the keys, which were still in the ignition.

“No.” Becca’s hand wrapped around his forearm, stopping him before he turned the key. She shook her head and the scent of vanilla and citrus filled the cab of his Jeep as she said, “I’m fine. I want to stay.”

He looked over at her and could not get a clear read on whether or not she really did want to stay. There were no hints in her eyes. The crystal-blue pools looked stormy with emotion, but before he could pinpoint what was causing the waves, she turned away from him and opened the passenger side door. As her slender, toned legs swung out of the door and her feet stepped on the nerf bar, Brian caught himself staring at her perfect, heart-shaped ass as she exited the vehicle. His heart raced and his palms tingled with desire to touch the firm flesh behind her white shorts.

Shit.
He cursed to himself as he pulled his keys out and opened his door. Just from touching her hand, he’d been at half-chub status, and now, after looking at her backside for less than ten seconds, he was at full strength. Brian blew out a breath. He knew that, unless he seriously wanted to embarrass himself, he needed to lock that down. He had to stay vigilant in keeping his eyes and hands to himself when it came to Becca. She turned him into an arousal jack-in-the-box. He never knew how many cranks it would be before he popped out to say hello.

As he stepped out of his red Jeep, the unforgiving sun shone brightly on his face. Brian wiped his brow, where a few beads of sweat were forming, and moved to the back to pull out their luggage. Just as he lifted the hatchback, he heard a female voice behind him.

“You can just leave that there. I need you to follow me.”

Turning around, Brian saw a woman wearing a headset with a belt of various supplies around her waist. He’d been on enough sets to know that she was most likely a production assistant. Becca gave him a questioning look, and he shrugged as he shut the door.

“Your names?” the PA asked, pulling out her clipboard as she turned and began walking at a clipped pace.

“Becca Sloan and Brian Scott,” Brian answered as he and Becca followed behind her.

“Sloan and Scott are headed your way,” the woman announced into her headset.

As they walked down a cobblestone path that looked like it wound around the entire property, Brian automatically rested his hand lightly on Becca’s lower back. The moment he did, she jumped beneath his touch. She was obviously on edge, so he applied more pressure, trying to give her assurance and support. His mind knew that what he was doing was totally innocent. His body had other ideas. He felt his blood heading right back down below his belt, but he tried to ignore it. He needed to be strong for Becca.

He felt her head turn up at him, and as he looked down, he got a straight-shot view down her baby-blue, V-neck shirt. His eyes drank in the swells of her ample cleavage, the white, scalloped lace of her bra, and the small, red bow that sat between her full, round breasts.

Snapping his head up from a view that would only get him in trouble, he tried to concentrate on the sound of the leaves crunching beneath their steps. The beauty of the lush, green trees that landscaped the area. The bright sun shining in the blue sky.

Blue. Just like the color of Becca’s eyes.

No,
he mentally reprimanded himself. He had to stop thinking like that.

“All right.” The blond PA turned as they rounded the corner of the stone castle.

Brian took in the sprawling, green grass that went all the way to the edge of the bluff. Beyond that was the deep, blue waters of Whisper Lake. Boats and water skiers dotted the surface of the lake. They looked so tiny from this vantage point.

Opening what looked like some kind of service door, the PA motioned for them to go inside. “Down the hall, fourth door to the left.” After quickly spouting off those directions, she was gone.

Brian looked down at Becca, saying, “After you.”

“No.” Becca shook her head, her eyes wide as she peeked inside the darkened space. “You go first.”

Brian smiled down at Becca as she stepped inside right behind him. Unlike the fresh, earthy, warmth outside, the air inside was cold and dense and it smelled musty. The door creaked shut behind them. He wasn’t easily spooked—at least he hadn’t been since he was a kid—but he had to admit that this place had a serious spook factor. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness in the narrow hallway they were making their way down, Brian felt Becca’s delicate fingers grasp the back of his jeans.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I feel like we’re back in the haunted house, remember?” he turned his head and whispered to her. He wasn’t sure why he was whispering other than the fact that it felt wrong to speak loudly, like maybe the walls would crack or the ceiling would fall down.

“Of course I remember. I still can’t believe I let you talk me into that. To this day, I have nightmares,” Becca whisper-yelled.

“Seriously?” Brian shifted back to face her so he could see if she was kidding. It would kill him to think that she’d really suffered for years just because he’d thought it would be cute to see her scared in the haunted house.

She playfully slapped his chest and shook her head as she smiled and spoke quietly, “No, but you should still feel bad. I
did
have nightmares for months after.”

“Sorry,” Brian said as he reached down to kiss Becca on the top of the head like he’d probably done a few hundred times in his life.

This time, though, when his lips pressed against the soft strands of her vanilla-scented hair, Brian felt Becca’s fingers tighten in his shirt where her hand still rested after she’d swatted him and heard her breathing grow more labored. He felt the energy shift between them, crackling with electricity. He moved back slightly, unsure of what he expected to see.

Maybe he’d expected to see that she was just scared and that was why she’d fisted her hand in his T-shirt, why her breaths were coming in pants. Maybe he’d expected her to be mad at him for talking her into going inside that haunted house and she was huffing in irritation. What he saw was neither of those things.

Looking up at him through long, inky lashes were Becca’s baby blues filled with awareness. She felt
exactly
what he felt. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and she breathed out his name, “Brian.”

He wasn’t sure if it was in invitation or in warning, but either way, he felt his head lowering, her lips were drawing him in like he was a moth and she was the flame. Just as he felt her sweet breath against his lips, a bang sounded behind him.

Brian’s arm immediately wrapped around Becca to hold her behind him as he turned to see what the noise was. What he found was a tall, thin man sticking his head out the door. His narrow face lit up when he saw Brian.

“There you two are. We thought you got lost. Come on in. Get out of the
spider
hall.”

Uh oh. Did he say ‘spider’ hall
?

“S
piders!” Becca shrieked as she closed her eyes tight and pressed against Brian like white on rice.

“It’s okay,” she heard him say in his patented soothing voice, his arm wrapped around her back, and she felt them moving. “I got you. It’s fine.”

She was vaguely aware of more voices as she heard him say to step up. She did what he said, and a door shut.

“We’re good. You’re good,” Brian spoke calmly.

Forcing herself to open her eyes, she saw that they were in a large room that had a humongous, square, wooden table in the center. A large, ornate, wrought-iron chandelier hung above it. The lighting was better than in the hallway but still dim. There looked to be about a dozen or so people milling about, snacking on the finger food that was spread out on the table.

“You all right?” the man who had poked his head out asked.

Becca nodded as she swallowed over the large lump that had formed in her throat. “I’m scared of spiders,” she squeaked out.

“Well, this should be fun.” The tall man, who reminded her of the cartoon villain on the
Hanna-Barbera
cartoon “Wacky Races,” winked at her before spinning around in a full circle and walking away.

Becca hoped that her jaw wasn’t on the floor as she watched him go. He was pale with dark hair and dark eyes, dressed in skinny jeans, a white, button-up shirt with polka-dot suspenders, and black, narrow dress shoes that were at least a size fourteen, and he even had a thin, handlebar mustache with a patch of hair on his chin to complete the look.

“Are you okay?” Brian asked, rubbing his hand up and down her lower back.

She wanted to tell him that,
no,
no, she was not okay. That she didn’t know what she was doing. She’d already been freaked out and that had been before the almost kiss in the creepy hall, the Dick Dastardly wannabe, and the
spiders
.

“Becca,” Brian said, his voice filled with concern.

She felt a few people begin to turn and stare at them. They looked around their age and were all attractive. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin this experience for Brian. She was a big girl. She could take care of herself. She was being ridiculous.

“I’m fine,” she told him, her voice coming out strong and sure. As a matter of fact, she’d said it so convincingly that she was sure even Meryl Streep would be impressed. “I’ve got this, B.”

His eyebrows rose like he wasn’t sure what she was doing, but she saw that the corners of his mouth twitched and his shoulders relaxed. He might not know why she’d had a Sybil-fast change in personality, but at least he wasn’t worried about her anymore.

Then, riding on the high from the Oscar-worthy performance she’d just given, Becca straightened her shoulders, walked over to where there were bottles of water sitting on the table, and grabbed one. As she took a drink, she closed her eyes and tried to calm her racing her heart. The cold water felt so good going down her tight throat.

Becca tried to give herself a quick mental pep talk. She could do this. She was going to be a doctor, for God’s sake. She could handle a dating show with her best-friend-slash-love-of-her-life.

What’s the worst that could happen?

“Hi. I’m Brooklyn,” a female voice said, cutting through Becca’s mental motivational speech.

Opening her eyes, she saw that not only was Brian by her side, but a stunning blond had also joined them. She was exactly Brian’s type. In fact, she looked like the perfect-ten version of the eights he’d dated.

“Hi. I’m Brian, and this is Becca.” Brian’s tone was friendly.

“Hi, Brian,” the blond purred.

Becca noticed that she hadn’t said hello to her as well. She was willing to bet that it had not been an accident. Well, Becca wasn’t really in the mood to meet Perfect Ten anyway.

She watched silently as Brooklyn and Brian made small talk. This girl was good—Becca had to give her that. Flirting was not something Becca herself had ever had a real (or any!) talent for. Even the thought of
flirting
with someone gave her the heebie-jeebies. It just seemed so false. So fabricated. So insincere.

When it came to simply connecting with people, Becca could definitely run with the pack. Actually, she could lead the pack. But flirting was just not in her personality wheelhouse.

And even though, for some reason, Becca felt the urge to side-check this girl for basically having Brian eat out of her hand, she had to admire her skill set.

A loud crash came from the corner of the room and Becca looked up to see a man who was built like a lumberjack. And not just any lumberjack—this guy looked like a Paul Bunyan-sized lumberjack.

“Jax is here! The party can begin,” the guy called out, throwing his arms in the air, his loud voice echoing in the cavernous space.

The girl who had escorted them around the side of the house, er…um…castle stepped around Jax the Lumberjack—yes, that was how she was going to remember his name—carefully ducking under the man’s massive arm.

“Talent’s all here,” the girl spoke as she sped walked over to the Mr. Dick Dastardly clone, who was huddled in the corner with a beautiful woman who reminded Becca of Sophia Loren and two younger girls who looked just like the college students Becca saw every day on campus.

“Wonderful!” The man clapped dramatically as he announced, “I need everyone to take a seat.”

As each person chose a seat, she and Brian, naturally, sat next to each other. Becca bit her lip in an attempt to not bust out laughing as Brooklyn and a redheaded girl both sat down in the chair on the other side of Brian. Then the comedy level rose tenfold when each girl held their own, staying put, claiming their territory.

Becca’s eyes widened, while she watched in awe, as the altercation quickly escalated to what Becca was sure would become a full-blown catfight complete with face scratching, hair pulling, and wild swatting as arms flew around aimlessly.

Never before in her life had she been so grateful that she’d grown up with not one, but three older sisters. Not that she and her siblings had ever had a knock-down, drag-out fight, but she was sure that she had enough skills to knock Brooklyn on her pretty ‘perfect ten’ rear if that chick would have pulled that stunt with her.