You Had Me at Hola(32)

“Me?” She stared, taken aback. “I know you better than anyone. I was your wife.”

He came back to her then and took her face in his hands. “I was worried about you most of all. Don’t you see? If I’d really let you in, if I’d really let you see me, you’d know.”

Her breathing came fast. She gripped his wrists but didn’t pull him off her. “Know what?”

His expression was bleak. “That you deserved better than me.”

Her breath seized in her throat, wringing out the truth. “But I wanted you.”

There was pain in his eyes as he asked, “Do you still?”

Her reply was faint, but clear as a bell. “Yes.”

Victor brought his mouth down on hers in a searing kiss.

Carmen kissed him back fiercely, then broke away to meet his eyes. “Victor. Listen to me. You’re not nothing.”

“I am. I am.” The words came out like a moan as he trailed his mouth down her neck, leaving a path of hot kisses. “I’ve proven it to you so many times over. Why don’t you believe it yet?”

“Because I believe in you, estúpido. And I’m never wrong.”

His laugh was cut off when she dragged his face back to hers and fused their mouths together. When he came up for air, he was breathless, but smiling. “I hate how bossy you are.”

She scoffed and reached down to place a hand over the front of his pants. “You love it.”

He groaned. “You’re right. I love it.”

Then he lifted her up. She clamped her thighs around his hips. The move shoved her skirt up, and he grasped her bare legs with his strong hands. The heat from his fingers seared into her thighs, sending a bolt of genuine arousal through her as his lips moved hungrily against hers.

He broke the kiss to look for a surface to set her on. But the second he spotted the rickety folding table at one end of the tent, the walkie on Carmen’s waistband squawked.

“Carmen?” a tinny voice called out. “We need Victor on stage in five.”

Breathing hard, Victor looked to Carmen, their noses inches apart. “Think we can do this in five minutes?”

Her bland stare was unamused. “Victor, put me down.”

With a disappointed sigh, he set her on her feet, then helped her straighten her hair and her clothes.

“Well, at least you look more alert now,” she remarked, reaching up to fix his hair.

“Oh, I am.” His voice was thick with innuendo.

She glanced down at his pants, then gave him a stern look. “You better get that under control before you give the audience the wrong kind of show.”

“Keep bossing me around and it’s not going anywhere. I told you, I love it.”

That made her laugh. She gave him a small peck on the lips, glad that he was in better spirits.

“You’re not nothing,” she said fiercely. “And everyone knows it. I think that’s what really worries you.”

His brows creased. “What?”

“If everyone knows you’re extraordinary”—she jabbed a finger in his chest—“then you have to know it too. And it means you can’t get away with acting like a scared little boy anymore. But we’ll deal with that later. Come on.”

She took his hand and led him out of the tent.

“Cut!”





Chapter 16


Outside the tent set, Jasmine turned to Ashton, adrenaline coursing through her. With a big smile on his handsome face, he raised his hand. She smacked it with her own. The sound rang out and the slap reverberated through her palm. Now that was a satisfying high five.

“We did that,” she said.

“Hell yeah, we did,” he agreed.

On the sideline, Ofelia, the first AD, was positively beaming. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up,” she said.

The episode four director came over too. “Playback looks good. Let’s go from wide to medium.”

Ashton shot Jasmine a thumbs-up, and she grinned back, but deep down, she knew she was a liar, liar, pants on fire. In Ashton’s dressing room, she’d acted all shocked and offended at the thought of them sleeping together. She deserved a damn Oscar for that performance, because there was nothing objectionable about the idea at all. Even now, her traitorous mind couldn’t stop replaying the sensation of his hands gripping her thighs.

Shit, she was experiencing the warning signs of a crush—the second point on the Jasmine Scale. That warm feeling in her solar plexus, as if they had a connection that was pulling her toward him. The desire to make him smile, asking questions and hanging on his every word when he answered, looking for hints that he might be crushing on her too.

It’s all in your head, she told herself. This isn’t real.

God, she was so predictable. Michelle was going to have a field day with this. Jasmine had developed a crush on nearly every cute guy she’d spoken to since the age of twelve, and she was terrible at hiding those feelings from her cousins.

But maybe she shouldn’t hide them. Maybe her cousins’ interference was exactly what she needed.

After they completed all the takes for the scene, Jasmine grabbed her phone from her chair and hurried back to her room. Once alone, she dashed off a text to Ava and Michelle.



Jasmine: Quick. Remind me why having a fling with Ashton is a really bad idea.