Heaven, Texas (Chicago Stars #2)(68)

“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?

“Everything can wait. I want you right there in the canyon with me.” He pulled on a pair of well-worn leather boots.

“I’ll be in the way. I’d really rather not.”

“It’s an order, Gracie. From your boss.” He snatched up his script, grabbed her arm, and headed for the door. But as he reached out for the handle, he paused in midair. Turning, he began to study her in a way that made little prickles of excitement rise up all over her skin.

“Gracie, honey, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to slip off those panties of yours before we go.”

“What!”

“I believe I made myself pretty clear.”

Her pulses raced at the sound of that husky drawl. “I can’t go outside without my underpants!”

“Why not?”

“Because—Because it’s outside, and I’d be…”

“You’d be naked underneath that cute little skirt of yours, but as long as you sit like a lady, I don’t see that anybody’s going to know. Except for me, that is.”

Once again, his gaze trailed over her, making her skin feel damp and hot. He didn’t understand that she wasn’t the sort of woman who went around without underwear, not even in her new, made-over version.

At her hesitation, he released that overly patient sigh he used when he was about to manipulate someone. “I can’t believe we’re arguing about this. Apparently the fact that there’ve been so many distractions these past couple of weeks has made you forget we still have an agreement. You know as well as I do that I own what’s underneath that skirt.” Another sigh. “I never thought I’d have to give you—a former Sunday School teacher—a lecture on ethics.”