Page 69 of Heaven, Texas (Chicago Stars 2)

Bobby Tom fixed him with a stern glare: “Don’t even think about it, pardner.”

Elvis chuckled and sucked his fingers instead.

14

The next evening as dusk gathered, Gracie and Bobby Tom sat in the top row of the wooden bleachers behind Telarosa High, gazing out at the empty football field. “I can’t believe you never went to one of your high school football games,” he said.

“There was a lot to do at Shady Acres in the evenings. It was hard to get away.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded strained. Yesterday in the canyon he’d said that tonight would be the night they finished what they’d started, and she was so nervous she could barely hold herself together. At the same time, he was as cool and collected as ever. She wanted to kill him.

“It doesn’t seem like you had much fun as a kid.” He brushed the side of her leg, and she jumped. He gave her an innocent look, then reached farther over to pick up a drumstick from the tub of fried chicken he’d bought for them, along with french fries, containers of salad, and a basket of hot biscuits.

Maybe his touch had been accidental. On the other hand, knowing him as she did, it was quite possible he was deliberately driving her to distraction. He must know she’d been on tenterhooks ever since she’d opened the door of her small apartment and seen him standing on the other side in a pair of jeans, a straw cowboy hat, and a faded Telarosa High School Titans T-shirt that might have fitted him fifteen years earlier, before he’d developed such spectacular chest muscles, but was definitely too tight for him now. Since Bobby Tom was impeccable about his clot

hes, she knew the old T-shirt was deliberate, part of his attempt to recreate a high school date.

She nibbled on the end of a fry and, when he looked away, slipped it through the opening behind her legs and let it fall to the ground below the bleachers because her stomach was too agitated to hold food. “You miss it a lot, don’t you?”

“High school? Not hardly. All those homework assignments put a serious dent in my social life.”

“I’m not talking about the homework. I’m talking about football.”

He shrugged and discarded the drumstick, rubbing against the side of her arm in the process. She felt as if a shock wave had passed through her. “Sooner or later, I had to quit. A man can’t play ball forever.”

“But you hadn’t planned on quitting so soon.”

“Maybe I’ll do some coaching. Just between the two of us, I’ve talked to a couple of people. Coaching seems a likely next step for me.”

She expected to hear some enthusiasm in his voice, but she heard none. “What about your film career?”

“Some of it’s all right. I like the action stuff.” His mouth twisted in disgust. “But I sure will be glad when all this love scene business is over. Do you know they actually expected me to take off my pants today?”

She smiled through her agitation. “I was there, remember? And by the time you were finished with all your chin rubbing and head shaking and ‘aw shucks’ing, I don’t think Willow or the director or anybody else had the slightest idea what you were saying.”

“I got to keep my pants on, didn’t I?”

“Poor Natalie didn’t.”

“Gettin’ naked is a woman’s lot in life. The sooner you accept that, the happier you’re gonna be.” He patted her bare knee, sending a shiver of desire through her as he let his hand linger there a moment longer than necessary.

It took enormous self-control not to respond to his baiting. Not only was she too edgy to match wits, but she was feeling remarkably tolerant toward him, despite his sensual torment. She’d been touched by his behavior toward Natalie the past two days as they’d filmed their love scene. His costar’s breasts had continued to leak, most of the time on him, until Natalie was so embarrassed, she’d been fighting tears. Bobby Tom had been a perfect gentleman, teasing her until she relaxed and making her feel as if this sort of thing happened to him all the time, as if a day wouldn’t be complete without it, as if he looked forward to being soaked with breast milk.

Sometimes his ability to hide his real feelings frightened her. No one should have that much self control. She certainly didn’t. Right now, just the thought of making love with him had turned her insides to mush.

He dabbed at her bare thigh with his napkin, although she hadn’t dropped anything there. His thumb brushed over the inner slope, and she caught her breath.

“Is something wrong?”

She gritted her teeth. “No— No, uh, nothing at all.” He was making her an emotional wreck with his innocent little touches, brushing her leg as he shifted position, grazing her breast with his arm as he reached for a piece of chicken, every moment of contact so brief it could have been accidental, but since Bobby Tom never did anything accidentally, he had to be playing one of his games. If only he’d bring up the subject of the night ahead so they could clear the air between them and she could stop feeling so apprehensive. She’d bring it up herself, except she didn’t have the foggiest notion how to go about it.

She dusted some biscuit crumbs off the lap of her crisp white shorts to give herself something to do with her hands. He was the one who had told her to wear shorts tonight, and although she considered them a bit too casual, she’d remembered his flattering comments about her legs and acquiesced. She’d also chosen a cropped turquoise cotton poor boy sweater that bared her lower back every time she leaned forward, a fact that she didn’t think had escaped his attention.

“I wish you’d start watching the dailies,” she said, trying to take her mind off her overheated body. “Maybe it would make you more enthusiastic about a movie career. Everybody knew you’d be photogenic, but I don’t think anybody expected you to be as good as you are.”

Several times she’d had the opportunity to sit in while Willow, the director, and various other members of Blood Moon’s production staff gathered to watch the film they had shot the previous day. Bobby Tom had a much quieter presence on screen than he did off, underplaying everything so that he didn’t seem to be acting at all. It was a solid, re-strained performance that managed to overcome some of the predictability of the script.

Instead of being flattered by her praise, he frowned. “Of course I’m good. You think I would have taken on something like this if I thought I’d mess it up?”

She gazed at him suspiciously. “From the beginning, you’ve been surprisingly confident for someone who says he’s never acted before.” Her eyes narrowed as a sudden thought struck her. “I don’t know why I haven’t already figured this out. You’re pulling another one of your scams, aren’t you?”

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