Page 119 of A Lucky Shot

So much for no one finding out, she thought with a sheepish giggle, but Josh froze against her.

A tiny woman Cass didn’t recognize stood open-mouthed, hand still on the doorknob. She wasn’t part of the crew. Her pants and a blazer were from a designer that Cass never would have been able to afford, her black hair hanging in a crisp curtain to her collarbones. Her oval face had a pinched look that was oddly blank.

Cass wasn’t surprised at her confusion—the set was massive—but she was surprised to see the strange woman milling about on premises. Josh had ordered a closed set for their final scenes after they’d caught paparazzi sneaking in again weeks ago.

But this woman didn’t look like a paparazzo. She looked like money. Maybe she was an out-of-town producer that Melanie had invited for the last day of shooting. Cass tried to disentangle herself to smooth a rogue curl out of her eyes, but Josh locked his arms around her. For all his dirty talk of having people walk in on them, he seemed much less cool with the reality of it actually happening than she was.

At least all their clothes were in the right spots. Mostly.

Cass gave the woman a grin and tried unsuccessfully to squirm out of Josh’s grip. “Um, this is awkward.”

“It certainly is,” the woman replied in a tight voice.

“Are you lost?” Cass squirmed again. “Looking for someone?”

The woman closed her mouth with a snap, then gave a brisk nod. “Yes,” she said, not taking her eyes off Josh. “My husband.”

“Oh, sure,” Cass said, and tried to step back again. Josh still hadn’t released her, and she clicked her tongue at him with a smile. “If you let me go, I can help her find him.”

“Actually,” the woman said, her pallor rapidly being replaced by a flush racing up her neck, “I just did.”

It didn’t sink in. Not at first. The word rattled around her brain. A key to figuring out something important, like a cipher to a code.

Cass took a step back, fighting against the cage of Josh’s arms. Something dark opened up in front of her as it registered. Then, the tumblers of a lock fell into place, the door opened, and her heart broke free from her chest to shatter at her feet.

Her husband.

Josh was married.

She’d known him for months and he’d never said. All the times they had been together. As coworkers. As friends.

As lovers. A rushing filled her ears and she made herself breathe so she didn’t collapse, and the realization sunk in.

Why would he have said anything? He’d never intended for her to be anything more than casual. They lived in different cities. There was no reason to assume they’d ever see each other again once the film wrapped.

Because he’d be going home to his wife.

“Cass.” His voice wasn’t even a whisper. “It’s not what it looks like.”

She stared blankly at the floor, as if she could see the broken pieces of her heart scattered there. The warmth of where his chest had pressed against her back still lingered. One hand covering her cries as he’d driven himself inside her, his other hand working where they joined as she came apart underneath him. Minutes ago.

Her centre still ached from him being inside her, and Cass was face-to-face with his wife.

“A PA said she’d thought I could find you here,” the woman said, speaking directly to Josh like Cass was a piece of furniture. Her voice sounded like it was coming from across an ocean. Cass didn’t know if her voice sounded far away because the woman was in shock, or if she was. “No one answered the first time I knocked.”

As he whispered in her ear that they were too good together, his wife was knocking on the other side of the door. She’d whimpered against him just days ago, promising him all week no one else would touch her. That she was his. Only his. He could have all of her.

And now his wife was looking at her, with his hand still up the back of her shirt, her lipstick staining his mouth, the scent of their sex in the air.

“Oh,” Cass whispered. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

Each of her muted footfalls felt like they would sink into the floor, lifting again like she was wading through a bog. Cass fought through the murk and picked up her stride, hoping the air would dry her tears before they fell. She couldn’t get the image out of her mind. His wife—his wife—looking at him with dawning horror, her dark eyes widening as she registered the scene in front of her.

She didn’t know where to go. She looked blindly around the set. Bex running, Terry smiling. Stephen and Dawson huddling in front of the director’s screen. Stephen’s head popped up, brows knitting together in confusion, eyes darting from her to the footsteps coming down the hall behind her.

Had Stephen known? Of course he would have. They were best friends. And he hadn’t said anything to her. A spear of betrayal sliced through her core. All she could hope was that she wouldn’t stumble and bring any attention to herself.

She heard the squeak of his sneakers behind her before his fingers circled her wrist.

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