Chapter 14

Hayden

The morning'sshoot is grueling. It rained overnight, so we're working in mud, which sucks, though Brady's over the moon about what he calls the "gritty realism" it adds to our scenes. He's really leaning hard into the dirty Western aesthetic. I'm sure it'll pay off in the end—or at least I hope it will—but it really sucks at the moment.

But through it all, the knowledge that I'll get to see Victoria this evening gives me something to look forward to. I've always done best when I've had a goal to work toward and a reward waiting for me. She fits both categories, especially since we're so far from finishing this movie that that goal seems too far away.

It doesn't help that Brady's being a perfectionistic slavedriver today. Maybe he needs some kind of reward to look forward to, too. Or to get laid. Or maybe some edibles. I saw a dispensary when I was headed into town. Maybe I should mention it to him …

"Hayden!" he barks. "Do you need an engraved invitation? I said reset!"

Stifling a groan, I move back to the position where I start this scene, but Caesar's horse's eyes start rolling and he's tugging at the bridle.

Caesar gives the reins a yank, but that only makes the horse more angry.

"Whoa, whoa!" says one of the horse handlers, coming around the camera equipment, hands up. He sidles up next to Caesar and takes the reins, shushing the horse and talking quietly before leading it off to walk around.

"Dammit!" Brady kicks at the ground, which just showers everyone around him with mud, provoking a tide of grumbling that he ignores as he curses the delay.

I take the opportunity to study my sleeve, wondering what I can do to make sure that Mia sends Victoria to my trailer tonight. It can't be too egregious—I don't want to make her life more difficult, after all.

Shifting my shoulders, I feel how it fits. Maybe I could just complain about something stupid? That might work. I'm a movie star, after all. We're known for being high-maintenance divas with unreasonable demands, right? Might as well lean into it if it works in my favor this time.

I need the shirt hemmed an inch because the tails are too long. Then I'll need my pants hemmed a quarter of an inch because they're wrinkling too much where they hit my boots. Another pair can need to be let down a half inch because they're not wrinkling enough.

And that right there can get me at least six visits from Victoria. We can save the seam tears for later. And of course, I'll tell Victoria not to change a damn thing. But those are asinine and believable enough that Mia'll send her my way with little more than an eye roll. At least to start with. She'll catch on eventually—Mia's too smart not to—but maybe by then she'll be involved in her own on-location romance and she won't care about mine. Either way, I'm sure I can convince her to keep this quiet once she figures it out.

When I drag myself back to my trailer at the end of the day—the light's too faded, the horses are too temperamental, and everyone might mutiny if Brady doesn't quit being a dick—I'm exhausted. Almost too exhausted to look forward to seeing Victoria anymore.

Almost.

The fact that I knew I'd see her today was the only thing that kept me going the last hour without throttling Brady. Even so, when one of the horses had to be swapped for spooking yet again, I pulled him aside and told him he's stressing everyone out and that might be why the horses are acting up. If the actors are pissed at him, the horses might be picking up on it, and it's making them unruly.

I honestly have no idea if that's true at all, but it was easier than calling him a dick to his face and telling him he needs to chill the fuck out. If it were just the humans having problems, he'd easily say they need to suck it up. But if it's the animals—who can't do that—then he'll have to change his behavior in order to keep the schedule on track.

It helped a little. He was at least working harder to keep his temper in check, though he didn't do that great of a job all the same. Between the weather, the mud, the horses, and everyone's frayed tempers, we were all grateful when we wrapped today, even if we didn't get as much done as we were supposed to.

And now …

Now I get to see my own personal costumer.

A smile tugs at my lips, and I catch sight of it in the mirror as I strip out of my muddy clothes and turn on the tiny shower in the trailer. I'm filthy enough that I need to at least rinse off, especially if things go as I hope they will once Victoria arrives. I do my best to be quick, though, because she should be here soon.

I sent a message to Mia earlier to send Victoria to my trailer with my costume for tomorrow once she arrives because I'm not entirely happy with the fit of today's and I want to double-check tomorrow's before we shoot.

I'm just stepping out of the shower when there's a knock at my trailer door. I hastily wrap a towel around my waist and call, "Come in!"

The door opens, and Victoria's head pokes in, looking around tentatively.

The small smile that's claimed my face since I got back to my trailer blossoms into a full-blown grin at the sight of her. "Hey," I say softly.

Her eyes scan my nearly naked form, lingering around my waist where my hand grips the towel to keep it in place. Then she seems to catch herself, jerks her eyes away, and hurries the rest of the way inside, pulling the door shut behind her, nearly slamming it in her haste. She clears her throat and holds up the costume she's carrying. "Um, Mia said you wanted to try the costume for tomorrow? Something about wanting to check the fit again?"

She sounds—and looks—nervous, and I'm not sure if it's to do with me, the fact I'm in nothing but a towel, or if something happened with Mia that has her upset. I hope I didn't get her in trouble.

Closing the distance between us, I pluck the hangers out of her hand and toss the clothes on the couch, cupping her cheek and turning her face up to me. I scan her face, pausing briefly before touching my lips to hers, giving her time to object or pull away if she wants to.

But she doesn't. Instead she seems to melt into me once our mouths meet, sighing like she's slipping into a warm bath after a long, cold day.

Perfect. Yes. This is how I want things to be between us—a relief from the outside world. We both have our share of pressure and stress—very different causes, but the end result is the same—and this could prove to be an antidote for all that for both of us. At least that's what I'm hoping.

With my usual relationships, there's always some amount of pressure. They happen because of mutual attraction, yes, but there's always more than that. Some amount of professional expectation as well as whatever personal desires we might have. Women pursue me for who I am and what I can do for them, not just because they like me.

But with Victoria, there are none of those expectations. No cameras to perform for. And while I still suspect part of the appeal for her is likely the chance to sleep with a movie star—something she can brag to her friends about later, even if she doesn't want to risk gossip about us now—she's not looking to me to further her career.

She's a dental hygienist, after all, who apparently moonlights as a part-time costumer, and is happily ensconced with her family in this town. She's given no indication that she has aspirations of working on movies as a career, so there's nothing I can do for her career.

Her lips part on a sigh, and I taste her, seeking out her tongue with mine, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close.

She rises up to meet me, and the zipper of her jacket scrapes my skin, reminding me that while I'm all but naked, she's fully clothed.

When we break apart, I'm gratified to find her panting, her cheeks stained pink, her eyes glazed, and her lips swollen.

"Hi," I say, still smiling.

She returns my smile, looking far more relaxed than she did a minute ago. "Hi."