Page 47 of Outside the Lines
His shyness vanished. “You’d do that for me?”
God, if we hadn’t been standing in the middle of the shop, I would have kissed his expression right off those lips. “Of course I would!” For him above anyone else.
“I’ll have to think about the comics I liked way back when. I read a lot, but some were closer to my tastes than others.”
Yeah, that was pretty much true of everything. “You get older, and there’s less time to separate the wheat out.” That’s where I could help. Tailor a sampling to a person’s—to Ian’s—tastes.
“Exactly.” Ian pulled out his phone and checked the time. “We should get going. Anna won’t hold the shoot for us, even if we did make the set.”
“Lead on.”
We took his Mini and he sped along the winding roads almost like he’d lived here forever, but then he must have driven this path too many times to count. Soon enough, we were pulling up to the gate, where I got a visitor’s pass. Ian drove in, parked in his spot, and we got out. It was still light—summertime after all—but the sun had nearly set and evening was creeping across the sky as we headed toward where Ian said they’d be shooting.
“They can use filters to make it seem like night, but Anna likes to use as much natural ambiance as possible with these kinds of shots.”
“Hence the rain in the episodes.”
Ian barked a laugh. “Well, that’s because thisisthe Olympic Peninsula. If they’d stayed in Hollywood to doWolf’s Landing, we’d have used up all the water in California while filming the first season.”
Someone nearby chuckled, and I jumped. Then started again, because Hunter Easton was grinning at us. Holy shit. Hunter lived here, and I should’ve been used to seeing him since it wasn’t like he was a hermit. Came into town with his husband, like everyone else, but I still got tongue-tied around the guy.
Hunter shrugged. “Be glad it isn’t raining tonight.”
“Oh,” Ian said, as if running into Hunter Easton was normal, “believe me, I am.”
Up ahead, there were people milling about a clearing in the woods, setting up a bunch of equipment. Toward one end sat our model on a stand. A woman crouched beneath it, playing with some wiring, and a guy stood nearby with a big fire extinguisher.
Maybe that’s what made it real to me, the dude getting ready to put a fire out. My pulse ticked up and I stared at the nozzle on the extinguisher. “They’re really going to burn it down.” All that work.
Ian gripped my shoulder, his fingers warm and familiar, and his thumb stroked against my shirt. “Yup. It’ll be okay. And it’s gonna look great on the screen.”
Hunter rubbed his hands together. “I’ve been waiting to see this happen for ages.” He gave me a glance, his gaze zeroing in on my visitor’s badge, and held out his hand. “I’m Hunter Easton, by the way.”
“I know.” I choked out, and somehow I shook his hand. Unlike with Carter Samuels, my throat closed up completely and my mind went blank. What do you say to a guy who wrote the books you love and got lost in? HemadeWolf’s Landing.
Hunter raised an eyebrow, obviously expecting conversation. Probably my name, but I couldn’t get it out.
Ian came to my rescue, thank God. “This is Simon Derry. He helped me build the miniature set, Mr. Easton.” His hand didn’t leave my shoulder, and his thumb continued its soothing circles.
“Call me Hunter, please.” He offered Ian his hand. “You’re Ian . . . oh damn it. M-something. We met at the holiday party, but my mind’s a sieve.”
“Meyers.” There was a wonder in Ian’s voice I’d never heard before. “I’m surprised you remembered.” A touch of red in his cheeks. “I mean, you had to have met a billion people that night.”
He chuckled. “A couple hundred. But you had an interesting job.” He gestured at the set. “Tell me about it.”
I trailed along, still tripping in the clouds, as Ian showed Hunter the set and launched into the story of its destruction and rebirth, including how I’d helped him.
Hunter glanced at me. “So wait, you own that comic book shop next to Howling Moon?”
Oh, is that how we were known? A touch of anger unstopped my brain. “End o’ Earth, yes.” I cleared my throat of its gravel. “And we were there before Howling Moon moved in.”
“Si . . .” Ian’s eyes got wide, but Hunter laughed.
“It’s fine.” He had a sly smile. “Little rivalry there?”
I shrugged. “No, not on our part. We have limits on what Wolf’s Landing stuff we can carry, though.”
Like Ian, Hunter seemed taken aback by that. “Really?”
