Page 48

MY LITTLE CABBAGE

Tessa: What the hell?

Chris: What’s up?

Tessa: Are you serious?

Chris: Whatever do you mean?

Tessa: If I wasn’t in the middle of pilates, you’d get an earful.

Chris: Firefly is wonderful. You should come visit.

I leaned back in the chair and watched the dancing flicks of fire. If every night I could make myself a fire and enjoy some bourbon, I’d consider getting a second house in Firefly. With the sun gone hours ago, the night seemed endless. Where it ended and the tree line started blurred.

Unknown: Did you see the news?

“Huh.” Everybody who mattered had already been added to my contacts. I expected Mom to call when somebody relayed the news to her. I’d hate to crush her hopes of me bringing a guy home for Christmas.

The phone rang.

I’d blame the calming effect of the fire. I answered. “Who is this?”

“Somebody’s on the defense.”

I didn’t need to ask. I hadn’t stopped thinking about that gruff and sultry voice since he kissed me on camera. Okay, maybe I stopped long enough to think about him naked on top of me. Close enough.

“Who uses a phone to call?”

“Call me old-fashioned.”

“Says the guy who dropped his overalls??—”

“Okay, okay, okay.”

I snorted. The whole thing was like something out of a bad rom-com.

We only needed to have ourselves a scene running in slow motion.

Or maybe this would be the movie where we had a single touch, and somehow, it confirmed our hearts’ desire?

Good to know if work jumping out of exploding buildings dried up, I’d have a career on the Romance Channel.

“The whole town is talking about us.” While I might be a temporary interloper in Firefly, Bobby would have to live with the fallout. I owed him for saving me from Gail Simmons, but I didn't want him to suffer for the sake of my reputation.

He laughed, and it echoed. I pulled my phone away from my ear. Spinning around in the Adirondack chair, I spotted a dark figure walking toward the fire. Without saying a word, he dropped himself into the chair to my left.

“You really got us in a pickle,” he started. “I heard from Paulie, who has it on good authority from Sherry, that Dorothy sent Gladys a photo of us kissing.”

“You’ve got to??—”

“Then, at bridge, Marigold’s daughter Connie saw it on the news. So, she asked someone from high school if she could ask Carl if it was real. I was there when he got the call, so I said, ‘Confirmed.’ Now my sister won’t stop texting me, asking when I was going to tell her.”

“That’s a lot to take in.”

“Firefly,” he laughed. “You either learn to live with it, or they’ll drive you mad. Besides, I haven’t been this popular since… I’ve never been popular.”

“So, this was all for the popularity?”

He didn’t strike me as the type searching for his fifteen minutes in the spotlight.

Folks like that were easy to spot. Bobby, however, I think he did it because he saw me in distress.

I hid my smirk behind my glass. Who knew my white knight would have an unruly beard and be clad in flannel-colored armor?

“Popularity? No.” He reached over, pointing to the bourbon. “Drink alone, and the next story will be about rehab.”

He had a point. I handed him the bottle. Without flinching, he took a swig straight from the bottle. Bobby had a manly quality that won my respect.

“I’ve seen the tabloids.” Even a town nearly in Canada couldn’t miss the headlines. I took a swig from my glass, polishing off the last of my drink. Just like every studio executive and casting director, I’m sure it painted me as a two-dimensional cardboard cutout. “I liked Soft Spoken.”

“Wait… you saw it?”

“We aren’t all uncultured swine.” When he threw back another swig straight from the bottle, I cracked up. “Some of us are cultured swine.”

The minutes passed as we sat back and watched the fire burn.

Every few minutes, I’d turn to see the shadows dancing over his overalls.

The light shifting across his face made him look like an animal emerging from the woods.

I had spent a decade around clean-cut men trying hard to look like they didn’t try.

None of them came close to Bobby’s rugged good looks.

I bet he rolled out of bed and got dressed without a worry about his image. I found his confidence enticing.

“Thanks,” I said.

“For?”

I shifted in my seat to look at him. “For saving me from Gail.”

“You needed help. I helped.”

From anybody else, it might sound condescending.

There wasn’t an ounce of ego in his words.

I suspected he’d have done the same for Simon or Dorothy.

Similar to how he came out to help Rose and Edward with the house.

Sure, he might get paid to fix things, but I bet he did it because he wanted to help.

“I hope I can pay back the favor while in town.”

“You will.” Did he mean another round of getting naked?

If that were the case, I’d like to owe him every day and twice on Fridays.

I might not know how to behave in a relationship of convenience, but I knew what the thought of him naked did to my body.

“My sister is going to demand you show up for dinner.”

“Consider it done.”

“Don’t be so fast. I’m glad I could help, but this will get her off my back. She’s going to make Gail look like a puppy dog. We’ll have to get our stories straight.”

“So, we met at the comic con,” I said.

“We did?”

“Well, technically, afterward. We met, and then I stayed a few nights at your place.” I pulled the bottle out of his hand and took a swig. “I might have fibbed a little so Simon wouldn’t catch me.”

Bobby laughed. “You were adamant, following me into the hardware store. You insisted on staying the night.” I laughed as we wrote our fictional history.

“When did I become the needy one in this relationship?” I handed him the bottle. “Don’t answer that. What’s Bobby short for?”

“Robert. Robert Theodore Wright. The only person who calls me Robert is my sister.”

“Christopher to my mom. Do we have cute names for each other?”

“Are we teenage girls?”

“Pookie.” The alcohol had done its job, and I drifted from sober to happily intoxicated. “Punkin. Honey bun? Babe?”

“I’m going with mon chouchou.”

“God bless you.”

“It’s French. It means little cabbage.”

“You are not calling me a cabbage,” I snorted.

“Mon chouchou.” Bobby had the Frenchman's accent down. “It feels right.” I had to admit, it was adorable.

I clamored to my feet, steadying myself. The world seemed to tilt to the left as I tried to orient myself. I didn’t think I had drunk that much, but as the world spun faster than normal, I think I had one too many swigs.

“Might be time to put out the fire and call it a night.” When Bobby stood, the world spun too fast for him as well. “Looks like we’ve both had a little more than we should.”

“Bah. I’m fine, you lightweight.” He grabbed the bucket of water and doused the fire. The flames vanished, replaced by a loud hiss. When he finished, it was as if the world took a long breath. We were left standing in the dark; only the distant lights of the house were visible.

“It’s amazing.” I couldn’t count the stars if I tried. The moon was nowhere to be found, letting the thousands of tiny specks sparkle. “Humbling,” I muttered. Above me, the sky seemed to go on forever, siphoning away every fear.

“I forget you’re not used to this,” he said. When he finished with the bucket, he set it down and stood to my side, just close enough that our arms bumped.

“I feel… I don’t know. Small?”

“I like to think I’m part of something bigger.”

His words were soft, as if he had spent night after night looking at the sky and trying to make sense of it.

In the city, I had a similar feeling trying to walk between crowds of people.

New York never stood still. Here, I had a chance to breathe and think about it.

The tabloids didn’t seem all that important as I tried spotting the constellations I’d learned as a kid.

“I needed this.” It had nothing to do with the movie, or even my career. I needed perspective.

Bobby leaned over, bumping into me. When he leaned too far, he almost fell. I caught him by the arm, holding him upright. “You’re in no shape to drive.”

“I can walk. It’s not far.”

“Or…”

“Was your plan to get me drunk all along?”

“You did that on your own.” I laughed.

“Could have asked, and I’d stay the night.”

It wasn’t the worst idea, but I didn’t want him to get the wrong impression. Firefly might be good for a fling, but anything more would end in heartbreak. I kept thinking back to Edward’s statement. Firefly gives us what we need. Right now, I didn’t need a drunk man barely able to walk… or did I?

“I hope Mom doesn’t catch us.”

I chuckled at his comment, though I shared the sentiment.

A grown man, and yet I worried what Rose might think.

If she barged into my room and found a double bed overstuffed with two men…

How fast would the town know? I put it out of my head as I unsnapped Bobby’s overalls and let them drop around his ankles.

Still no underwear.

I pulled his shirt over his head and helped him lie back on the bed. I was pretty sure the alcohol wasn’t done with us. If I didn’t fall asleep soon, I’d be reciting lines from every movie I had been in. Even years after forgetting them, booze brought them to the surface.

I guided him onto the bed, pulled off his boots, and finished undressing him. I slid him into bed. At this point, I had no inner monologue. I couldn’t stop admiring this beefy man filling the bed. “You know, you’re a handsome guy.”

“No need to lie. You’ve already got me in bed.”

His eyes were closed as he talked. I didn’t think he’d be conscious much longer.

My bed had never had somebody like Bobby in it.

I liked bears, big beefy men, but in Hollywood, everybody insisted on having a ripped gym body.

More often than not, they shaved everything within reach.

Bobby wouldn’t be able to shave. He’d need shears.

As I stripped, I wondered if Bobby intentionally let his hair grow.

He was handsome in a way I couldn’t put into words.

Maybe it had something to do with a bear looking like a real bear.

I couldn’t help but smirk as I debated sleeping in briefs or going nude.

Briefs, and then, if necessary, I could feign being a gentleman.

I crawled over him, and he let out a little grunt. Lying on his back, I barely fit on the bed. I debated grabbing a blanket and sleeping on the couch. Bobby shifted to his side, facing me.

“Turn over,” he muttered. I couldn't argue with the directness.

I rolled away from him. He wrapped an arm around my waist and dragged me back until I could feel his cock pressed against my briefs. Rarely the little spoon; there was something nice about this man locking me in place. I reached down and pulled the comforter up to our hips.

It had been years since a man held me like this. At the same time, I couldn't recall a time somebody left me feeling... not small... protected. First, he saved me from the reporter, and now he wrapped himself around me. The realization left me choked up.

“Mon chouchou,” he whispered.

I had to admit, I could do worse in the fake-boyfriend department. What would my friends in New York say? Hell, what would Tessa say if she met him? They’d all think I had gone crazy. And yet, part of me wanted to see the shocked expressions as I showed off this tender-hearted man.

He shifted again, pushing his legs behind mine.

This massive bear had curled around me, his arm tightening on my waist. He had grown stiff, his shaft sliding down the crack of my ass.

I cursed the booze. I didn’t want to do something we’d both regret in the morning…

that’s if I hadn’t caught a case of whiskey dick.

The thought of Bobby in a tux at a movie premiere made me smile.

He’d be unlike anybody else on the red carpet…

and that wasn’t a bad thing. But as quickly as the thought appeared, I had to remind myself that our overlapping worlds were temporary.

In a few weeks, I’d be back in New York, preparing for a new movie, and he’d be in Firefly, saving its citizens from disaster.

I played a superhero, but Bobby was a superhero.

We had been assigned roles, and we’d play them until production wrapped.

I needed to stop fretting about what people thought.

Let the tabloids have a field day with this.

When all was said and done, they’d move on to the next hot take.

For now, I wanted to melt into Firefly and enjoy the town…

and the awkward situation I found myself in.

Awkward, but not unpleasant. For now, I’d go with the flow.

The thought worried me. Perhaps I was falling too deep into our lie?

Bobby’s breathing had deepened as he nuzzled my neck. I reached down, resting a hand over his. No, it wasn’t awkward. This had all the trappings of a sweet beginning. I closed my eyes, imagining the handyman posing for the cameras.

“Mon chouchou,” I whispered.