The Movie Star's Red Hot Holiday Fling(29)
She replayed the regret in Blake’s eyes when she’d accused him of using her to write his story.
He cared, but he was afraid of risking his heart. Although she felt she had made the right decision to walk away from the deal, and the man himself, staying away from Blake was soul-wrenching.
Oh, how she wished Blake had been honest with her from the beginning. Because the life he’d offered her, and the love she believed existed, could have given them both so much more.
Before she opened her door, she noticed an embossed envelope on the floor. Picking it up, she read Maisey’s personal invitation to the New Year’s Eve gala. Jessie had planned to attend with Blake, but could she go there, face the scrutiny of the rich and famous, and see him one last time?
The girl who had returned scarred and battered from the war shrunk from the idea.
But the woman who she’d become in the last few weeks wanted to prove that nothing intimidated her. She owed it to herself to attend, if only to let go of the idea of Blake and the life he’d offered.
Minutes later, Jessie opened the gym door, inhaling the room’s familiar scent of metal and rubber. Cold air raised goose bumps on her arms as she walked toward the weight rack. She figured fifty bicep curls and double the lunges should keep her muscles primed for the equipment-carry and hose-drag elements of the test. And the resulting sweat this morning would warm her blood.
When she reached the barbells, she rolled back on her heels. A printout of Blake’s screenplay had been placed on top of the thirty-pound weights.
Her pulse accelerated. Don’t read it. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. She picked up a pair of forty-pound barbells, stepped onto the mat, and faced the mirror to check her stance before curling the weights.
One rep. The pages mocked her, and the memory of how Blake had helped her regain her flexibility flashed. Two reps. The pages taunted her with the memory of how she wanted him to seduce her, if only to feel alive. Three reps. The pages enticed her, just as every moment he’d been with her had reawakened her femininity.
Her nose prickled and stung. Blake had never been repulsed by the scars on her leg. He hadn’t faked the desire in his eyes when he moved inside her. She lowered the weights, brushed the steel close to her right thigh, her throat aching. Jessie returned the weights to the rack. Picking up the clipped pages, she read the note he had written on the front.
If you feel the same way about the next Quinn Sawyer movie and me after you read this, I’ll forget I ever wrote this story. I’ll walk away from the Quinn Sawyer franchise’s offer to let me direct and star in this film. Blake
Chapter Twelve
“You positive she’s coming?” Blake asked Maisey as they walked to the bar. “Because this party’s almost over.” And if Jessie had read that script and hated it, he doubted she’d show up tonight. Why would she even want to look at him, let alone give him a second chance?
Midnight was minutes away. Half the guests were knee-deep in noisy celebration, dancing on the parquet floor beneath a canopy of enormous, fake snowflakes and twinkling lights.
His sister leveled her green eyes on his. “Blake, she RSVP’d via a text first thing this morning,” she said. “Everything is in place for your big scene.”
“Except for the main attraction.” He waved to Constanza, who had hooked up with the Sullivans in attendance. “Maybe she changed her mind.”
“Jessie’s too brave to walk away from a challenge.” Maisey clasped his forearm. “And you’re equally as strong. The pair of you make quite a couple. I imagine you’ll be sparring and making up for years to come.”
“If she’ll accept my apology,” Blake said, sticking his hand in his pocket and touching the velvet box.
“You screwed up,” Maisey said. “But you can fix this. Just don’t worry about what these Hollyweirdos think.”
His lungs expanded with brotherly pride. Maisey had grown from a frightened, lonely teenager into a strong, independent woman. Somehow she’d found her own happiness and love.
And man, he sure as hell wanted to grab onto that brass ring and hold it forever. Even if it meant destroying the one chance he had to prove he was more than a walking poster boy for Abs of Steel.
But Jessie was worth taking the gamble.
“I’m double-checking the DJ’s music list.” Maisey kissed his cheek. “Your star attraction has arrived.”
He looked toward the doors leading into the room. Air whooshed through his ears and the floor seemed to slip beneath his feet. Jessie stood at the entrance dressed in a long silver, figure-hugging evening gown he’d given to her before their fight. Though she’d sworn she’d never put herself in the limelight, every person at the party stopped to watch her walk into the room.