Page 42 of Outside the Lines
He had the wherewithal to close his mouth before she turned to him.
“Anna Maxwell.” She held out her hand, and Simon took it. “Thank you for supporting Ian. I suspect becoming a workshop wasn’t what you envisioned when you opened your store.”
“Simon Derry.” And wow, all hint that Simon had been a nervous wreck had vanished. “I was grateful to be able to lend a hand.” There. Color touched his cheeks. Not much, but a little. “Bit of a dream to work on a real set.”
She nodded, and examined the grove again. “It’s almost a shame we’re going to blow it up and burn it down.”
Simon blanched. I’d never told him the final fate of all our hard work. I gave a light shrug. “Better than the forest.”
“Especially since the EPA would close us down if we tried that.” She turned to Simon. “Would you like to watch the shoot, since you helped make it happen?”
There was the kid in the candy store vibe. “Um. Yes? I mean—” He took a breath. “When is it?”
“Tomorrow night.” Anna’s phone buzzed and she whipped it out. “Yes? Oh hell, I’m on my way.” She headed for the door, still talking into the phone, but paused for a moment. “Ian can fill you in on the filming.” Then she was gone.
Simon blinked a few times. “Wow. She was nothing and everything like I thought she’d be.”
Pretty much. I scratched the back of my head. “Can you come tomorrow night? They’re filming at eight.”
Simon nodded slowly. “It’s comic book day tomorrow, but that only means an early morning. Evening should be fine. I’ll double check with Lydia.”
While I didn’t want to suggest it, I felt I had to. “She can come as well, you know.” I was almost certain Anna wouldn’t object, given that Lydia had been the one to uncover the altar snafu. But this had been mostly mine and Simon’s project. I wanted to keep it to ourselves.
Something in Simon’s rueful expression told me he’d heard the hesitation in my voice. “I’ll ask, but I suspect she’ll want to stay at the shop.”
Good. I liked Lydia a ton, and I was grateful she was sharing Simon, but this was ours. Mine and his. I wanted to have this memory once I couldn’t have Simon anymore. Since we were alone, I took his hand and pulled him to me. “How about that tour?” Before he could answer, I claimed his mouth and breath and his lovely moan.
Such sweet surrender every time I kissed him. When I relented, his smile lit his face. “Sure,” he said. “I’d love a tour.”
That could wait a little bit. We had enough time for me to take those lips again, feel his heat against me, and his dick press against my own. We were both pretty hot and bothered when he murmured against my lips, “If this is a way to make me less nervous, you’re doing a good job.”
I laughed. It hadn’t been. “I can’t get enough of you, that’s all. But if it worked . . .”
A grunt. “Well, now I’m turned on.”
We didn’texactlyhave a no-sex-at-work rule. It was akeep-it-discreetrule. Still, going down on Simon here, right now seemed a bad plan, so I stepped back. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.” His grin was sly. “But maybe save it until later?”
Yeah, he was right, though something about the conversation after Anna had left niggled my brain. I ushered Simon outside, and started down the path to one of the main outdoor sets. It was a recreation of part of Main Street—or rather our version of Main Street. No one was filming there right now. As we got closer, Simon muttered, “Holy shit. It looks exactly like it does on TV.”
Well, at least from the front. “Let me show you inside one of the houses.” We walked in and that’s where you could see it wasn’t real. Oh, there was furniture and some of the walls were decorated, but above, there was no ceiling, despite the steps that led up—only a walkway and racks of lights. Other areas were bare bones, since those angles would never be filmed. I explained it all to Simon, and he took it in. Up and down. Everywhere.
“Can I . . . touch . . . the couch?”
“I don’t see any harm in that. Just don’t move it.”
His splendid fingers brushed over the fabric. “I can’t believe I’m here.”
“There’s more to see.” I took him around to one of the sound stages, but the light was on. “They’re filming, so we can’t go in.”
“I didn’t think they did tours on Wednesdays,” a voice behind us said. We both turned and Simon went sheet white.
Carter Samuels stood there, holding a cup of coffee that definitely hadn’t come from the crew service van. In costume and everything.
“They don’t.” I nodded to Carter. “Ian Meyers from props.”
“Oh, the miniature guy! I heard about your set.” He twisted his lips. “Bad break. Literally.”
