Phoenix Reborn (Woodland Creek)(5)

“I’m here working for the next couple of days, actually,” he said. “Shooting a few scenes from a film set in small town America. You should come have a look at the set. We’ll be on High Street tomorrow, and probably for the next few days. After that I’m hoping to take it easy for a little while and to catch up with this place. But seriously — do come by and say hello, would you?”

“Really?” Ashling realized immediately that her voice had gone up by about half an octave. This was not exactly playing it cool. “I mean, maybe I will. You know, if I’m not too busy.” She wondered if her attempt to sound uninterested was working.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, go to the bloody set!” shouted Ranach from the kitchen. How the hell had he heard so clearly?

“I’d really like it if you did.” Hawke was standing closer now, his eyes looking down into hers. He was taller than she remembered. And he smelled…well, he smelled like a man. Musky, delicious, sexy. He was no longer the boy she’d known. In almost every way he’d changed. If it was even possible, he’d improved. He had the air of experience about him, of knowledge. And his closeness meant that Ashling wanted quite desperately to touch him, to feel that body of his through his sweater. Good lord, he was divine.

She wanted to smile, to think how many young women would have killed to be in her position. But she wasn’t like other women, after all.

Hawke spoke again, defeating her silence with his persistence. “Listen, Ashling — I’m really glad that I got to run into you. There are things I’ve wanted to talk to you about, ever since…” He stopped himself, seeming to contemplate his next words with care.

“Things?” she said. “What things?” Her heart was sprinting in quick laps inside her chest, though why, she couldn’t exactly say. Something in his tone was exciting her, making her nervous, frightened, thrilled, all at once.

The kitchen door creaked open and Ranach pushed his head out. Ashling wondered a moment later if she’d only imagined her boss issuing a look of stern reproach to their visitor. What was going on between these two?

“You know what? It’s nothing,” Hawke added hurriedly, stepping back and running his fingers through his already mussed hair as though attempting to release a thought that had been brewing. “I should go. But really — do come by tomorrow. I’d like to see you. You don’t know how much.”

His repetition of those words almost gave him the air of a nervous teenager rather than a renowned film star. But there was no way, thought Ashling, that a man like that could ever be nervous around a woman like her.

Though it was sort of adorable to see.

“I’ll think about it, like I said,” she answered, smiling. “I suppose I would like to watch you in action. I hear that you’re pretty good.”

“Well, I hope I don’t let you down. I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Unless—”

“Yes?” said Ashling.

“Nothing,” he replied, seemingly thinking better of whatever he’d been on the verge of saying. “It’s just that I would like to spend more time with you. Very much.”

Her heart once again bounced against her chest, as though trying to escape and give itself to him. Was he — almost — asking her out? Surely not.

He grinned at her one more time before turning to leave. “So long, Ashling Jones. We’ll see one another soon.”

She watched him go. That boy from so long ago. He’d changed so much, morphed into something of a legend. Someone so inaccessible, so handsome. And yet a part of him was the same as it had always been: gentle, down to earth, sincere.

As he disappeared from sight, Ashling felt as though a delicate thread had attached itself to each of them, tugging at her chest as he moved away and threatening to snap if he went too far.

If only he still lived in this town. And if only he weren’t world famous. And far too good for the likes of her.

If only she weren’t Ashling Jones.

“He’s just a simple human,” she told herself, trying to shake free the thoughts of his handsome face and perfect body. Or the kindness in his voice. “Just a guy. You’ve seen him cry, for God’s sake.” It was true; when they were little he’d hurt himself on a jungle gym and wailed impressively for his mother. But then, everyone had done that at some point.

But no other kid had ever done what she had.

No other kid had set anyone on fire.





3





As Hawke strode away from Ranach’s front door he closed his eyes for a moment, snapping a mental camera shutter to steal a photograph of Ashling’s face. It had been years since he’d last laid eyes on her. She was a woman, and yet she was the same girl that she’d always been. As lovely as ever. As lost as ever.

That night years earlier, he’d wanted so badly to go to her. To let her know what he knew; to console her and free her from the burden that he was sure she must carry. And yet he’d chosen the coward’s way. He’d let her suffer on her own. And he’d always regretted it, through all the years spent nurturing his skills, his career as an actor. Always he’d carried around the knowledge that he could have done more, if not for his selfish need to keep a secret from her and from everyone.

Now, maybe he’d have a chance to make it up to her. No — more than that. Maybe he’d have a chance to reignite the spark that had once flared delicately between them.