Page 19 of Full House

He leaned forward, placing an arm on the table and turning his body her direction. “Why what?”

“Why take me with you to visit your mom and maybe your sister?”

He did that one-sided shrug thing she’d seen him do so often. “I was already going and wanted you to come with. No biggie.”

Right. Maybe she was making too big an issue of it. Maybe he brought all his girlfriends to meet his mom after only a couple of weeks. Not that she was saying she was his girlfriend.

She nodded pretending to accept his answer, though to her, it still seemed a little strange. “Okay.” She looked down at her plate and ran her fork through her salad.

“Okay? So, you’ll go?”

That made her laugh. “It didn’t sound as if I had a choice.”

She thought that would make him laugh or at least crack a smile, but his expression was dead serious when he said, “You always have a choice.”

Oh, well, okay then. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

That earned her a smile. “Good.”

≈≈≈

Ten hours later, Nate made the trek from the studio to his trailer. All he wanted was a hot shower and his bed for the next five hours until he needed to get up for the next day’s filming.

A manila envelope lay on the top step leading to his trailer weighted down with a large rock. He stooped to retrieve it as he went in, tossing it on the kitchenette counter on his way to the fridge for a bottle of water.

Ten minutes later, freshly showered, the envelope caught his eye. Curious, he picked it up, noting his name on the front in neat, feminine handwriting.

He wasn’t expecting the inside to contain fan mail. He had only one public address, a PO box, that his management company collected from. Still, the short, one-page letter didn’t give him cause for alarm. It was signed, your number-one fan. Again, not unusual. He inspected the envelope. No return address or stamp.

Slipping the letter back in the envelope, he stuck it in a drawer with plans to give it to April, his manager, if anything else unusual occurred.

A yawn ripped through him, and he made his way to his bed. The slats on the window blinds were twisted open, and he had a clear shot of Victoria’s trailer. He wondered if she was asleep. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window, his body so tired it was fighting with his brain for supremacy. But his brain didn’t want to shut down. For the first time that day he was finally alone, and it was reminding him how much he’d hated walking into the commissary and finding Victoria smiling and laughing with Rick Massey. He hated even more, the jealousy and anger he’d felt upon seeing it. He’d never been that guy. Hell, he didn’t even want to be that guy. But his brain was telling him, as far as Victoria was concerned, he was that guy, so he’d better get used to it.

Lying down, he tried to put his feelings for Victoria into perspective. But all he could see when he closed his eyes was her face. Her beautiful fucking face. Then her smile. A smile, that when he saw it, felt like a punch to the gut. Followed by her laugh. Sultry and deep, he felt himself hardening just thinking about it.

Keeping his hands locked behind his head, he refused to do anything about the throbbing in his cock. He only wanted to be deep inside Victoria, and no substitute would do. He’d have her to himself soon. A weekend away from the stress of work and obligations. A weekend to relax and have fun. He couldn’t say he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Sighing, he closed his eyes, forcing his mind to go blank. When that didn’t work, he started going over his lines for the next day, knowing, if anything, that would put him to sleep. And it must have worked, for he didn’t remember anything else after that until his alarm woke him up the next morning.

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