Page 8 of Secret Daddies

Not that I was going to get distracted from what needed to be done here, no way. I had already slotted back into the work on set with surprising ease, even if this was a whole lot busier than anything I had experienced before—I guessed that was to be expected, given how high stakes all of this was. I’d overheard a couple of producers discussing the budget for a certain scene, and that alone had nearly been enough to make my eyes bug out of my head. I didn’t even want to think how much all of this was costing.

Finally, I arrived at stage four, where one of the assistant directors was tapping her foot angrily as she stood next to a monitor that showed a green screen with a handful of actors populating it.

“Are you from makeup?” she demanded. I nodded, parting my lips and fully intending to introduce myself, but before I could, she stabbed her finger toward the set.

“Lee needs a touch-up, now,” she ordered me. I didn’t argue, reaching for the pack that I kept slung around my hips at all times and mustering my courage to meet another one of themovie’s stars. Hey, at least I didn’t have a sordid history with this one—that had to count for something, right?

Lee Kennedy stood in the middle of the stage, chatting with one of the technical directors—he cracked some joke, and everyone around him busted into laughter. I suddenly felt a little nervous about getting in the midst of this, but I swallowed that back and forced myself toward him. I knew better than to let my nerves get the best of me—we were all just professionals here.

“Hey, excuse me,” I said, and Lee turned to face me. Fuck, if that face wasn’t evenmorestriking in person than it was on the big screen. I’d seen the movie he had starred in, one of Matty’s favorites, where he played this charming playboy billionaire who had a secret identity as a superhero. With his dark curly hair, dimpled smile, and piercing green eyes, along with the light stubble on his chin, he looked like he could have been lifted straight from the pages of a modeling magazine.

“Hey,” he greeted me, his eyes flicking up and down my body. I suddenly felt utterly underdressed—I was just in an old band tee and a pair of jeans, nothing that I would worry too much about getting product on, but I was in the presence of a legitimate movie star. Shouldn’t I be wearing something…I don’t know, a little more impressive?

“Hey, I’m Maya,” I replied. “I’m with the makeup department. I was sent down here to do some touch-ups…”

“Oh, so you’re saying I don’t look good?” he joked.

I raised my eyebrows, feeling a heat rise to my cheeks.How the hell am I meant to reply to that?

“I’m kidding,” he laughed. I managed to giggle in return, and reached for my sponge and powder.

“If you could just close your eyes…” I told him as I stood on tiptoe to reach his face. He smelled really good, not that I was going to say anything of the sort. Like fresh ocean air with a bite of salt. And, you know, from the perspective of a makeup artist, I had to admit that he had a really good face to work with. Those sharp, high cheekbones, his defined jaw, clear skin…

I forced myself to focus on the task at hand, quickly pressing the powder into the spot just above his brow where some of the product had wiped off.

“You’re new here, huh?”

“Uh, yeah, I just started,” I replied. “I’m covering for someone on maternity leave.”

He opened one eye, meeting my gaze again.

“Yeah, I figured I would have remembered you if I’d seen you around before.”

I pressed the sponge just above his open eye, and he closed it once more—thank God, I wasn’t sure I could cope with being on the other end of his stare like that, especially not so close-up.

“That’s a total cliché,” I shot back at him. He chuckled.

“I’m not used to people calling me out around here.”

“Yeah, well, you better get used to it,” I replied.

“I guess I’m going to have to.”

There was something in his tone that told me he wasn’t entirely averse to the idea, and my heart skipped a beat in my chest.Come on, Maya, focus.I wasn’t here to flirt, I was here to get a job done, and no matter what kind of sweet talk this guyhappened to be laying on me, I wasn’t going to fall for it. Not now, not ever.

I had enough problems as it was with everything that was going on with Devon, and I doubted any of that was about to get easier as time passed. No, if anything, I was sure that I was only going to find it harder and harder to be alone with him, given that all I wanted was to slap him. Or kiss him. Or both. Which would be pretty difficult to do at the same time, but hey, who was I to complain…

“You almost ready?”

Another voice cut across us, and I nearly jumped out of my skin—I glanced around, and felt another flutter in my chest when I saw who was coming toward me. Taylor. Taylor King. It was always surreal, seeing them in person when all I had known of them before was the big screen, but he looked even better in person. Without the CGI to wipe away the slight creases around his eyes and the rugged edge to his face, he looked like a real human being, and a hot one at that. His hair was shorn to his head, but I could see the speckles of gray there, along with the few dots of it in the stubble on his face. He was the better part of twenty years older than me, and I knew I shouldn’t be looking at him in that way, but damn, he was sexy as hell…

“Nearly,” Lee replied. Taylor glanced between the two of us for a moment, and I realized that I was just standing there, hovering an inch or two from Lee’s face as I held a sponge. I cleared my throat and quickly went back to work, focusing on what I had come here to do.

“This is Maya, by the way,” Lee introduced me. “She’s a new makeup artist.”

Taylor nodded at me in greeting, and I managed a quick smile in return. I was nearly finished working on Lee, and in just a few minutes, I would be able to head back to the food table and stuff myself with something to get me through the rest of the day.

“There, you’re done,” I remarked, stepping back to inspect my handiwork for a moment. Lee grinned down at me.

---