Page 66 of Heaven, Texas (Chicago Stars 2)

“Well, I’m not all that happy with you. I’ve got lines to memorize for the next scene, and I’d like a little help here.”

“Don’t you just moan and groan?”

“That’s not funny.” He began pacing the narrow width of the motor home. “In case nobody’s pointed it out to you, Gracie, everything in life isn’t a big joke.”

Was Bobby Tom Denton, the man who never took anything seriously, actually giving her a lecture on inappropriate levity? She stifled her amusement as an interesting thought struck her.

“Bobby Tom, are you nervous about doing this love scene?”

He halted in his tracks. “Nervous? Me? You’d better come over here right now and let me smell your breath because I seriously think you’ve started up on those wine coolers again.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “I’ll have you know I’ve already played out more love scenes in my life than most men have in their dreams.”

“Not on camera. And not with a whole bunch of people looking on.” She paused as a worrisome thought struck her. “Or have you?”

“Of course not! Well, not exactly. Just never you mind! The point is, as long as I’m making this damn fool movie, I don’t have any intention of looking like an idiot.” He tossed the script at her. “Here. Start with, ‘Those muscles of yours ought to come with a license.’” He gave her a dark scowl. “And not one wisecrack about the dialogue, do you understand me?”

She firmly repressed a smile. He really was upset about this love scene business. As she leaned back against the small kitchen counter, she felt much better than she had only moments before.

After finding the proper place in the script, she spoke the first line in as sultry a fashion as she could manage. “Those muscles of yours ought to come with a license.”

“What’s wrong with your voice?”

“Nothing. I’m acting.”

He rolled his eyes. “Just say the stupid line.”

“It’s not necessarily stupid. Some people might find it provocative.”

“It’s stupid, and both of us know it. Now, go on.”

She cleared her throat. “Those muscles of yours ought to come with a license.”

“You don’t have to read it like you’re in a coma.”

“You don’t know your next line, do you? That’s why you’re criticizing me.”

“I’m thinking.”

“Instead of attacking my performance, why couldn’t you just say, ‘Gracie, sweetheart, I seem to have forgotten my next line. How ’bout you givin’ me a little bitty hint’?”

Her imitation of his accent made him laugh. He sprawled down on the couch. It was too short for his long legs, and he propped his feet, clad in a pair of thick white socks, against the wall. “I’m sorry, Gracie. You’re right. Just give me a hint.”

“You say, ‘You look like—’ ”

“I got it. ‘You look like you should be packin’ a license yourself, darlin’?” Damn, that line is even stupider than hers. No wonder I can’t remember it.”

“It’s not as bad as her next one. ‘Why don’t you search me and find out if I am.’” She looked up from the page with concern. “You’re right, Bobby Tom. This really is stupid. I don’t think the screenwriter likes love scenes any better than you do. The rest of the script is so much better.”

“I told you so.” He sat up on the couch. “Looks like I’m gonna have to throw one of those movie star tantrums you read about in People magazine. We need a rewrite.”

“There’s not really time for that.” She looked back down at the script. “You know, this just might work if the two of you don’t try to play it too cute. Just sort of toss the lines away with a little smile. Both of you know it’s silly. Mild sexual banter, nothing more.”

“Let me see that.” He held his hand out for the script. She passed it over, and he studied it. “You might be right. I’ll talk to Natalie about it. When she’s not going on about that baby, she occasionally shows a few remnants of good sense.”

They spent the next ten minutes working on the script. Once Bobby Tom had decided he wasn’t going to embarrass himself, he proved to be an amazingly quick study, and by the time he was called to the set, he was letter-perfect.

“You’re coming with me for this, Gracie.”

“I’m afraid I can’t. I have too many things to do.” Even though Bobby Tom had no romantic feelings for Natalie, he was a healthy, virile man, and inevitably, all that physical contact was going to turn him on. She didn’t want to be around to see it happen. What sane woman would deliberately watch the man she loved making love with another woman, especially one as beautiful as Natalie Brooks?

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