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Authors: Donna Michaels

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BOOK: Wyne and Song
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A
nd the Best Actress Award goes to…
Phoebe Weston for her portrayal of Ethan’s uninterested ex-lover.

She’d never survive the summer if she had to stay at the Wyne Resort. Not because the place was lacking. It was great, as Jill’s tour revealed right after she’d taken Phoebe to see her cottage, which, too, was great. The one-bedroom, craftsman bungalow was charming, so she immediately called the landlord and left him a voicemail when he didn’t answer.

Then Jill drove them back to the resort and gave her the grand tour. And grand was fitting for all the amenities the place had to offer. Large, state-of-the-art fitness center, four restaurants, two coffee shops, a club, three bars—sports, piano, and her favorite kind, karaoke—and an honest to goodness chocolate factory. Jill’s. The best part of the tour.

After it ended, Phoebe took advantage of a relaxing massage at the resort’s fabulous spa, and now, she was sitting on a bench by the lake, soaking in the beauty, watching people enjoying the outdoors. Several boats dotted the water. A handful of fisherman lined a nearby dock. A group of children tossed a ball around in an open field to her right, and several more laughed and splashed in the water under the watchful eye of a lifeguard, sitting high in a tower centered on a beached off area. The resort was impressive, and judging by the sheer size, it was time-consuming to run. Factor in all the year-round outdoor activities and it was a wonder the Wynes had time to sleep. The brothers created a true five-star lodging.

With a ten-star rating for the oldest.

Having toured the place, she understood Ethan a little more. The reason for his fatigue. His motivation to put his son first when he had down time. Which had to be rare, between helping to run the business and committing one weekend a month and two-and-a-half weeks a year to the National Guard. Poor guy really couldn’t fit anything or anyone else into his tight schedule.

Well, he needn’t worry about her.

Jill moving out of her cottage was a godsend, and with luck, Phoebe would move in. Soon. A few nights at the resort was doable if she kept a wide berth where the sexy dad was concerned. He’d given the impression he wouldn’t mind her lack of existence. In fact, during lunch a few hours ago, she sensed he initially thought she was there because of him.

Hopefully, she’d put his mind at ease. She was in town to work. Not reconnect. Although, it had taken all her willpower to keep from swaying into his warm, hard muscles.

Stupid body.

The physical pull was a lot stronger than the last time she sat next to him at a restaurant. No doubt because she’d sampled him, tasted him; her body knew he was capable of giving mind-blowing orgasms, and would never forget. No matter how hard she tried. And she did try. Too bad her body had a great memory.

But, no one needed to know, and thanks to her profession, she could pretend outwardly that the connection didn’t exist. It was crazy. She didn’t even know why this was an issue. The last thing she needed was an active social life. A commitment. She already had one…to acting. Her life. Her calling. She poured everything she had into it.

The one and only time she’d tried to have both had backfired, crushing her heart and nearly ending her career. The popular actor hadn’t really loved her. He loved himself and the publicity being seen with her generated the seven months they’d dated. Her mother tried to warn her, but she’d been too young, too blind, soaking up his attention, eager to drop plans to be with him…including a rehearsal. A week later, the actor dumped her for a bigger fish who “fit into his lifestyle better.” After some major sweet-talking and damage control, her agent managed to convince the director not to recast her part.

Lesson learned.

Performing was her first love. Stepping on stage made her heart pound. Hearing the audience laugh, cry, applaud filled her with joy. Receiving flowers and letters expressing how she touched someone’s heart, touched her own. And she could always count on the rush of adrenaline when the curtain lifted opening night, although, lately, the whooshing through her ears hadn’t been as strong. A change in scenery, venue, and production would increase the whooshing. She hoped.

Ethan had been a good whoosher
, her mind whispered.

A smile tugged her lips. True. The man certainly knew how to make her heart pound and blood pump. He was good at it, and he was a good man. His love for his son, and desire to keep the boy first and foremost in his life was sweet and endearing, and she respected the hell out of him. Ethan Wyne was a true father, unlike hers who had been nothing but a sperm donor.

“Lady! Look out!”

The shout of a child startled Phoebe out of her thoughts. She turned toward the commotion in time to see a white blur flying through the air at her at mach speed. That missing adrenaline appeared with a vengeance as she reacted automatically, before hitting the ground.

“You killed her, Johnny.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You’re gonna go to jail.”

The voices of two little boys and one girl registered in her brain as she rolled on the ground and continued right to her feet, then faced the approaching children. With the ball in her hand.

“She caught it! Did you see that, Johnny?” A cute, dark-haired little boy rushed toward her, brown eyes as big as saucers.

“Yeah.” The other boy nodded, stopping in front of her. “Told you I didn’t kill her. She’s a ninja. You can’t kill ninjas.”

A pretty little girl caught up to them and shook her head, blonde ponytails swinging back and forth. “No, she’s not. She’s a Jedi.”

The boy with the brown eyes gazed up at her. “Are you, lady?”

“Yeah. Are you a Jedi or a ninja?” Johnny asked.

She crouched down to look the children in the eyes. “Neither, I’m afraid.”

Two warm, and slightly sticky hands grabbed her face, while the little, dark-haired boy brought his melt-your-heart chocolate gaze close. “Then how did you catch the ball so fast and not get hitted?”

Oh, he had some serious cuteness going on.

Keeping her smile in check, she winked. “Lots of practice and training.”

“Then you
are
a ninja.” Johnny stepped close to take the ball from her. “They practice and train.”

Nodding, the little boy released her face. “Yeah. Maybe she’s a ninja on a secret mission and can’t say anything.”

“I’m not—”

“Are you okay, Miss?” An older gentleman drew near, silver sprinkled in the dark brow furrowed with concern in his handsome face.

She nodded as she stood, unwilling to let the children get in trouble over her. “Yes. Just fine.”

“She didn’t get hitted, Grandpa,” the brown-eyed boy stated, stepping forward. “She caught the ball like a ninja.”

“Or Jedi,” the little girl chimed in.

She laughed. “I wish. Jedi’s are cool.”

Being cast in one of those movies would rock.

“You sure you’re not hurt?” With his strong jaw, salt-n-pepper hair, and keen gaze, the mature man wore handsome like his confidence, with a distinguished ease. “That was some catch,” he said, grin tugging his mouth, softening his no-nonsense expression.

She gathered he was the kids’ designated babysitter, no doubt while their mothers were taking advantage of one of the resort’s many amenities, like the spa.

A place she definitely planned to visit again.

“Yes, I’m sure.” She smiled down at Johnny. “And that was some throw. My hand is still stinging.”

His little chest puffed up as pride washed through his features. “Coach said to work on power, then we’ll practice aim.”

“But you threw it too high over my head, Johnny, and you know I don’t jump good,” the other boy grumbled. Aggravation erased the smile from his face.

“Don’t jump well,” his grandfather corrected.

The little boy nodded, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he stared down at his sneaker. “Yeah. I’m no good at that, either.”

The dejection in his tone and slump of his rounded shoulders tugged deep. Her heart squeezed. Before thinking twice, she knelt in front of him and dipped to catch his gaze. “I don’t believe that. Practice helps. How do you think I was able to catch that ball?”

“Practice?”

Actually, it was from training in movement, stage fights, and dance, but they all required hours and hours of practice over many years. She nodded. “Yep. Practice and hard work. That’s the secret to doing anything well.”

“Like pitching,” Johnny said.

“And jumping.” The little boy smiled.

She nodded. “Yes.” Happy to see joy return to his gaze.

“And being a Jedi.” The adorable girl snapped into a Jedi pose very similar to a baseball batter stance.

Laughing, she rose to her feet. “Tell you what, why don’t you all show me how you jump, and I’ll teach you a trick to jump higher.”

“That’s mighty nice of you,” the man remarked, sitting down on the bench. “I’ll keep this warm for you.”

“Yay,” the kids chorused, jumping up and down like three little jumping beans, each trying to outdistance the other.

After a minute of watching, she gathered the beans around and showed them how she jumped, from techniques she learned playing volleyball in high school, and dance lessons.

“Holy cow! How’d you do that? Show me how you did that,” the boys said in tandem, while the little girl grabbed her hand and jumped. “Yeah, show me, too.”

Phoebe chuckled. “Okay. Form a line.”

The kids immediately scrambled into position.

“Feet flat on the ground and in line with your shoulders. Keep your arms down at your sides while you squat just a little, like a half-squat.” She demonstrated, and they mimicked her movements. “Remember to keep your arms down before you start to jump, not in front of you or above your head. You’re going to use them to help you jump higher.”

The children nodded, in their half-squat positions, arms at their sides, resembling a pack of gorillas. She smiled. They were good at following directions, unlike a few actors she knew who could learn a thing or two from the children.

“What’s next?” Johnny asked.

“I want you to visualize the jumps in your head. See yourself pushing off with your feet and reaching for whatever your goal is, baseball, volleyball, the basketball hoop, Frisbee.”

The little girl smiled. “Fireflies?”

Did they fly really high? “I guess so, hun. I never caught any.”

The children straightened to blink at her.

“You never caught a lightning bug?” Big brown eyes stared up at her in disbelief.

She shrugged. “Nope. Don’t have any in the big city.”

“Well, there’s tons here. You should come out to the fire pit around back tonight and I’ll show you how.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to decline, but the thought of actually seeing one in the night sky was too tempting. “Okay, it’s a deal, if you continue to practice your jumping.”

“Deal,” he said, then surprised her with a quick hug around her waist.

Shock rippled through her at the sweet gesture, but before she could respond, the little boy released her and got back into his half-squat position.

“What comes next?” he asked.

His two friends joined him, all watching her, waiting for direction.

“As soon as you crouch and quickly visualize the jump, you spring upward from the balls of your feet, that’s this part here.” She tapped that part of her foot, and when they nodded, she continued. “Now comes the arm part. While you’re squatting, bring your arms behind your back, then when you start to jump, you swing them forward fast and up into the air. This causes momentum which will propel you up, and
that
is when you stretch as far as you can as quickly as you can. Feel that stretch in your ankles and knees and hips.” Once again, she demonstrated and they copied. “Okay, that’s it. Let’s put it all together and jump high.”

A second later, the children were springing into the air, marveling over the new heights they reached. After five minutes of jumping and laughing, they thanked her at the older man’s urging, then gazed up at her with their big, pleading eyes, begging her to teach them how to ninja roll. Actually just a forward roll, but they thought ninja roll sounded cooler.

And what she found cool was watching the children having fun.

“Are you a teacher?” the grandfather asked when she returned to the bench.

She laughed. “No. I’m—”

The ringing of the phone in her pocket cut her off. Fishing it out, she glanced at the caller ID and recognized the landlord’s number. “Sorry. I have to take this,” she told the man. “Enjoy the rest of the afternoon.”

“You, too,” he replied.

With a quick wave to the children jumping and playing nearby, she answered the phone while turning to the path that led to the resort. By the time she walked halfway up the trail, she ended the call with plans to meet the landlord in an hour at a local restaurant to sign papers. For a day that started off a little rocky, it was turning out to be a good one.

Still basking in the afterglow of the children’s joy, and her satisfaction of being the cause, she started to hum a tune that made her happy. The only reason she refrained from singing was because she didn’t want to disturb the nearby wildlife. Which she hoped was only squirrels and raccoons and not bobcats and bears. A quick glance around the brush and endless trees put her mind at ease. No beady eyes. At least, none that she could see.

BOOK: Wyne and Song
6.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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