Page 34 of Accidentally Wed to My Enemy

“Yeah. See you there.”

We split up, Lacey heading for her trailer and me for mine. She was out of hair and makeup before I went in, and I didn’t see her again till it was time for our scene. They’d blown out her hair to make her look angelic, torn her sleeve to expose her bare shoulder. I saw she had freckles like cinnamon powder, a fine, spicy dusting down the back of her arm.

Lacey glanced at her sleeve. “What?”

I grunted, caught staring. “Nothing. Daydreaming.”

“All right,” called Berg, striding over to join us. “We have a lot to get through today, but first, this is Stella. She’ll be our, uh, what do you call it?”

A tall woman stepped forward with the grace of a model. “I’m your intimacy coordinator. I’ll walk you through what you’ll be doing — boundaries, comfort levels, verbal consent. The clearer we all are on what’s going to happen, the smoother it’ll go with the cameras on.”

“Don’t coach them too much,” said Berg. “I need this spontaneous.”

Stella smiled at him. “Don’t worry about that. When performers feel comfortable, spontaneity goes up. They know where to touch and where they’ll be touched, and they can go for it without hesitation.”

“But the hesitation is part of it! It’s natural, they—”

“They can stillactnervous if that’s in your scene. But they shouldn’tbenervous, not as themselves. Now, the sooner we start this, the sooner you’ll get rolling.”

Berg deflated, and I had to cover a snicker. He had a weakness, it seemed, for tall, slim brunettes. First Iris, now Stella.

“So,areyou two nervous?” Stella turned to me. My mirth died away and I swallowed dryly.

“I’m good,” I said. It came out mostly steady. Lacey was doing this thing with her hair, letting it trickle between her crooked fingers. I remembered how soft it was, like silk to the touch. How she sighed when I touched her. The heat of her skin. I’d held her last night without ever knowing, pulled her close somewhere in the depths of my dreams. She’d seemed so relaxed that way before I woke her. So warm and peaceful, as if she—

“Eric?”

I coughed. Stella had asked me a question. “I’m sorry. What was that?”

“Let me put it another way: with you two being married, you’ve clearly been intimate. But that presents its own challenges, bringing that to work. Showing a side of yourselves that’s only for you. Are you comfortable with that?”

Ihadbeen, or at least, I hadn’t been worried. Hadn’t considered what we might reveal. What if she kissed me again like before, and I fell into it, and she saw in our dailies? What if shedidn’t, and we looked fake? What if this stupid scene gave us away?

“I’m good,” I said.

“Are you sure? You’re frowning.”

“I’m in character, is all. Lock wouldn’t talk this way. But as me, as Eric, yeah. I’m cool.”

Stella seemed to accept that, and she kept talking. I followed along as best I could manage, answering her questions, bumbling through our dry run. Lacey kept fooling around with her hair, strands of white gold in the harsh indoor light. All I could think was I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to kiss her just like before, spin her into my arms, bruise her plump lips with mine. I couldn’t kiss her that way, but I couldn’t deny it. My whole body ached for her, forthat, for our fireworks.

Stress,I told myself.Same as last time. You’re stressed and your body is craving release.

Lacey looked up at me and I clenched my fists tight. I’d never seen eyes like hers, that palest of greens. Like snow at the seashore. A wave trapped in ice.

“Can we go now?” Berg was straining at the end of his rope. “I want natural rain for this, that disgusting thin drizzle. My weather app’s saying it dries up by noon.”

“If the players are ready.” Stella smiled at me, then at Lacey. We both nodded back at her, ready as we’d get.

“All right, then we’re starting. Go in five minutes. Everyone chop-chop, hurry, get out!” Berg chased us out like a housewife who’d spotted a rat, flappingshoo-shooat us as we headed outside. Lacey scurried at first, then rolled her eyes. She slowed to a regular pace and we walked out together.

“He’s right,” she said. “This rainisdisgusting. Like a constant fine mist of warm spit in your face.”

“Thanks for the visual.” I wiped rain off my cheeks. To me, it felt oily, almost like sweat. Deeply unpleasant, and I still wanted Lacey. I wanted to hold her. Shield her from the grossness.

Just nerves. Just stress. You don’t want Lacey.

She took her place in the dirt, huddled up in our trench. I crouched beside her, squelching in mud. A light sputtered to life and glared in our faces, then swung away, casting an oblique glow. After what felt like eternity with the rain on our backs, Berg shoutedactionand it was time.

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