Page 53 of Steamy on Set

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He gives me a wink.

I would, I very much so would. He changes the subject, and I let him, not wanting to impede on our new friendship too much.

“These dogs are barking. We also should not have danced that much.”

My chest heaves up and down with the heady laughter a saying like that evokes. When he turns to look at me, eyebrows pulled together in confusion, it happens again.

“You’re so country.” I wash away the sound of my vibrating voice with a sip of the tea.

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”

“Damn right.”

He closes his eyes while the makeup artist gets to work applying foundation to his skin. I take the moment to look at the matching jogging suit he is wearing today. Even at the bar, he was dressed simply in a button-down and jeans.

“Has anyone told you I’m a stylist?” My question draws a look from him.

“Is that what you do on top of acting?”

“It’s more like what I do all the time. I’d like to give you a free session to show you my capabilities.”

He grins, revealing teeth all white and shiny. “Farrah, are you saying I don’t know how to dress?”

“No, I’m saying I know how to dress you better.” I wink at him, and that sends him hollering.

“Okay, I’m interested. Let’s set it up.”

I give him a thumbs up, releasing him to close his eyes again. As I turn and face the mirror, the hairstylist adds finishing touches to my hair. With nothing left to do to me, I can go explore until my first scene. Stepping out of the trailer, I take in the space we have commandeered for the day.

We’re filming the moment Dante and Fiona meet at the coffee shop across the street. The trailer I just left is set up for hair and makeup, and a tent has been arranged to house the rest of production’s things. There are long wires everywhere to connect the equipment to whatever power source is near. So much hoopla for a moment in the movie that is ten minutes, tops.

I see Errol lounging in a chair in front of the camera pointed at the entrance. His head is dipped low, and his hands work furiously, tapping away at the screen on his phone. At this hour, his dark skin shines under the sun, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the wide bridge of his nose. My fingers twitch at my side with the urge to touch him there and feel the shape of his face. He must feel my eyes on him, because he looks right up at me, his fingers flexing back and forth to wave me over.

“You good?” he asks as I step up to him.

Up close, the subtle shine of his clear complexion calls to me even more. Its siren song of silky gleaming ebony invites me to fall into it’s dark depths. I cross my arms behind my back to keep from reaching out.

“Yes, a little tired, but alive.”

That full mouth of his parts and reveals his smile, and the glance of those dimples reminds me of what I said last night. I can feel the burn on the tips of my ears as shame holds a lighterto them. I wonder if he’s going to bring it up and chide me as I deserve. He holds my stare, and for a moment I think he is.

“I had a dream about you last night,” he says instead, taking the conversation in a different direction and saving me from having to further relive that moment.

“You’re supposed to keep your wet dreams to yourself, Errol.”

He shrugs, one corner of his mouth turning down, a devilish gleam shining in his eyes.

“Is that what you do? You have sex dreams about me and keep them all to yourself?”

I bite my bottom lip as I widen my eyes in faux innocence and twirl the hair that falls in front of my face between two fingers.

“No. But you shouldn’t be telling me about yours.”

“Where’s the fun in that? My dirty dreams are so detailed they could be written into movies.”

“That’s called porn.”

“Yeah, but pay-per-view porn.”

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