Page 9 of A Cameo for a Cowgirl

His gaze pivoted to her, then his jaw sagged. “You.”

“Me.” She smiled.

Today’s security guard—Chuck—coughed. “You might want to put some clothes on, Mr. Woods.”

“What happened?” she asked, pointedly not looking at the actor, who quickly disappeared back inside the trailer.

Was that a smile on Chuck’s face? It couldn’t be all bad if he was smiling, could it?

“I, um, think it’s all under control now.”

“Was it him screaming?” she asked in a low voice, gesturing toward the trailer. “Or was that someone else?”

Now that was definitely a smile. Her heart eased a smidge.

“It was him,” Chuck confirmed. “It appears a small creature might’ve been responsible.”

“What?”

No. Not a mouse. She sure hoped he didn’t mean a mouse. The trailers might be rented but she couldn’t afford for any mice to get into the props barn and wreak havoc like they had three years ago. Too many costumes and soft furnishings had needed tossing then replacing, and she had no interest in a repeat. Apart from the heartbreaking damage and sheer grossness factor of cleaning, the business might not survive too many financial hits like that. Besides, as the person managing the site, she’d always felt a sense of responsibility for things running smoothly while any production was on Three Creek land.

Chuck’s soft snickers quieted. “A mouse.”

She sighed. Lord, keep my props safe. “Let me guess: he doesn’t like mice.”

“No, I don’t.”

Her gaze swerved up to where Harrison now wore a t-shirt and jeans. She bit her lip. His t-shirt was on inside out. “Are you okay now?”

“I wasn’t scared,” he insisted.

“Of course not,” she said soothingly.

His eyes narrowed, and she had to bite back laughter. Chuck wasn’t so circumspect, his renewed barely-smothered chuckles drawing another look of annoyance from the show’s new hero.

Aww, bless him. She’d never met a man who was frightened by a mouse. Her dad sure wasn’t, and she’d bet if Franklin met one he’d simply clobber it with a hockey stick and call it done. Good thing her brother was marrying Hannah and not someone with overly developed animal-loving sensibilities like Jess.

“Do you need me to come inside and check for you?” she asked, as innocently as she could.

“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

She ignored his insinuation, keeping her smile sweet. “No, not at all. I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea about things here.”

He muttered something she couldn’t quite hear.

“Alright then. I’ll take that as a no.” She backed away.

His bicep bulged as he rubbed a hand over his face, his cheeks bristly in a morning look some might call sexy. Not that she thought him attractive. He was much too grouchy at this time of day to be appealing. He frowned at her. “What are you doing around here anyway at this time? The sun hasn’t even risen yet.”

“Actually…” She pointed to the golden-hued horizon.

He made a face, mumbling something else she guessed wasn’t complimentary—about the early hour or herself, she didn’t care to know.

“I’m an early bird. We tend to get the worm.”

He yawned. “I sure don’t plan on getting worms while I’m here.”

She chuckled, and he appeared to realize what he said, as his cheeks pinked. “I mean—”

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