Just Physical (23 page)

CHAPTER 14

Jill didn't see much of
Crash the next week, mostly because Floyd had her do reaction shots—close-ups showing her character's emotional reactions to the horrible injuries caused by the earthquake and fires.

No stuntwomen were required for those scenes. Crash's absence from the set gave Jill some much-needed distance, but sometimes, when she had a quiet moment, she also admitted to herself that she missed running lines with Crash or just hanging out with her in the trailer.

When they broke for lunch on Friday, Jill had almost given up hope of seeing her before the weekend. But when she headed for the craft services tent, she heard familiar footsteps from behind.

Her heartbeat picked up. She turned and came face-to-face with Crash.

Instead of a period costume, she wore a pair of faded jeans that fit her like a second skin and made Jill's gaze linger on her athletic legs.

“Hi,” they said at the same time, then fell silent.

Crash bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet and pointed at the tent. “Are you heading to lunch?”

Jill nodded, glad that Crash had broken the silence. “Yeah. I'm going to pig out for once. Floyd didn't like that burn-victim scene when he reviewed yesterday's dailies, so he had us do another dozen takes. I need chocolate, or I won't survive this afternoon's reaction shots.”

“Ouch. Sounds like an emergency.” Crash gave her a commiserating look and held open the flap of the craft services tent for her. Her hand came to rest on the small of Jill's back as she followed her in.

The little gesture felt good. No harm in letting herself enjoy it as long as they both knew it didn't mean they were a couple. Jill smiled and looked back over her shoulder. “Want me to grab a Snickers for you too?”

“No, thanks. I have to do a glass stunt later today, and I don't want to get the sugar jitters. Just some salad for me.”

Glass stunt? Jill wondered what that involved. Nothing dangerous, she hoped. Instead of voicing her concern, she forced a grin onto her face. “Can I have your chocolate bar, then?”

“If they don't get to it first.” Crash pointed to the front of the tent.

Jill turned and groaned.

It looked as if the entire grip department had descended on the craft services tent. At least a dozen broad-shouldered men were digging into the food as if they hadn't eaten in days.

“Damn. That's against Maggie's rules,” Jill muttered.

“Maggie's rules?” Crash gave a slight smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. “Are they anything like your rules of no commitment?”

“No, not exactly. Well, maybe one. When I got my first role in a movie seven years ago, one of the more seasoned actresses took me under her wing. She told me that there are five cardinal rules of survival on every set.”

“Ooh, I gotta hear this. So, what are they?”

Distractedly, Jill watched as the grips started decimating the pile of chocolate bars on the table. She hoped there would be at least one left by the time she reached the front of the line. “Well, we just broke rule number one. Always get to the craft services table before the guys from the grip department do.”

The grip department wasn't only one of the largest on set, but the grips also worked up quite an appetite by hauling heavy equipment and sandbags all day.

“Good rule,” Crash said. “What are the others?”

“Always show up on set at least ten minutes before call time.”

“Check. You're always on time. What else?”

“Always turn off your cell phone on set.”

“Check.” Crash ticked it off on her fingers. “And?”

“Never try to guess your wrap time, or you'll jinx it.”

Crash laughed. “Ha! So you're superstitious too! I take it that's also a check?”

Jill shrugged. “Whenever I thought we were going to wrap early, we ended up having to stay late because something went wrong, so I learned to respect Maggie's rule number four.”

“Makes sense. So, what's rule number five?” Crash asked.

Finally looking away from the quickly disappearing chocolate, Jill glanced at Crash for a second before lowering her gaze to her fake-dust-covered boots. She wished she'd never mentioned Maggie's rules. “Uh, I think I'll go and try to charm the grips into giving me one of the chocolate bars.”

“Not so fast.” Crash gently held on to her arm. “You can't leave me without sharing the wisdom of rule number five. Don't force me to tickle it out of you.”

The memory of their last tickle match sent shivers up and down Jill's body. She had to clear her throat twice before she could speak. “You wouldn't dare. Not here.”

“Oh, you think so? There's not much a stuntwoman wouldn't dare to do,” Crash said, a challenging gleam in her eyes.

They had agreed on just a physical thing, so why was it so hard to tell her about rule number five? Jill sighed and said, “Never hook up with anyone on set until the very last week of the shoot.”

In the sudden silence between them, the shuffling of Jill's feet appeared to be overly loud.

Crash coughed. “Well, um…” She lowered her voice. “I guess three out of five ain't so bad, right?”

“I guess so.” Jill knew she should leave it at that, but instead she found herself reaching out to touch Crash's arm. “Just for the record: I don't regret breaking rule number five.”

“No?” Crash's ice-blue eyes searched hers.

“No.” It was the truth. When she was with Crash, passion swept away everything else, including worries about her health. For once, her body was a source of pleasure instead of frustration.
But that's not all you like about being with her, is it?
She ignored the thought and held Crash's gaze until the intensity of their eye contact became too much. Glancing away, she added, “But I wish I hadn't ignored rule number one.”

Behind them, more grips entered the tent.

“Oh-oh.” Crash widened her eyes comically. “Chocolate is now on the list of endangered food items.”

“Damn. Now I wish I had a secret stash in my trailer, like any other actress on set.”

“You really want that chocolate badly, don't you?”

Wanting things she couldn't have… That seemed to be the norm for her lately. She nodded.

“Okay. Hold this.” Crash pressed her water bottle into Jill's hands and sauntered over to the grips at the front of the line, her stride confident, as if she owned not just the craft services tent but the entire set.

Jill watched her from behind. Never had a pair of faded jeans looked so sexy, and knowing that Crash was jumping into the fray to rescue some chocolate for her made her even more attractive.

Jill couldn't hear what she said to the men, but she watched Crash's body language. Crash wasn't exactly flirting, but suddenly every smile, every subtle movement held a magnetism that was hard to resist. She leaned against the table in a pose of relaxed casualness while she gestured at the remaining chocolate bars. Her sensual lips quirked into a smile as she said something that made the key grip laugh.

God, those lips… Suddenly, the need to kiss those lips surpassed the need for chocolate.

Crash returned, triumphantly holding a Snickers bar aloft.

Instead of reaching for the chocolate bar, Jill grabbed Crash's arm and dragged her from the tent.

“Um, aren't you hungry anymore?” Crash asked.

“Oh yeah. I am.”

Something in her tone made Crash follow her to the trailer without asking any other question.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Jill pressed Crash against it and kissed her. All she'd wanted was a kiss, but as soon as she touched her, she had to have all of Crash, so she slid her hand down Crash's flat belly and unbuttoned the sexy jeans.

The chocolate bar would have to wait.

They lay on the couch in Jill's trailer, in a tangle of limbs and half-on, half-off clothing. One of Crash's legs kept slipping off the sofa, but she was loath to move. The way Jill trailed her fingertips all over her back and shoulders felt too good, now soothing rather than arousing. She admitted to herself that she'd missed this—missed Jill.

“God,” Jill breathed against the overheated skin of her neck, making her shiver. “Why are you still single?”

Crash chuckled. “Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment.”

“It is, but seriously, why hasn't some woman snatched you up by now?”

“There were a few, but let's just say that I've got hurt more often in my relationships than in my line of work.” Crash had never talked about it much, not even with TJ or her other friends, but now she surprised herself by continuing. “The first girlfriend I had after moving to LA just couldn't deal with the dangers of my job, never knowing if I would come home hurt…or not at all.”

Jill trailed her fingers up and gently skirted the edges of the burn mark with the tip of her pinky. “I can understand that.”

“Yeah, me too. But it still hurt like hell when she broke up with me. My next girlfriend was just the opposite. Kyleigh really liked the thrill of being around stunt people.”

“That's good, right?” Jill still examined the red, uneven burn scar as if trying to memorize its shape.

It didn't hurt, but it felt very intimate. Crash realized that none of the women she'd been with in the last two years since acquiring the scar had ever touched it. “That's what I thought, but she liked it a little too much. I caught her in bed with my mentor.”

Jill's touch paused, then she protectively covered the scar with her hand. “I'm sorry that happened to you. If there's one thing I could never understand, it's why people cheat on their significant other instead of getting out of the relationship if they're no longer happy.”

“Don't ask me. I never understood it either.” Crash knew she was partly to blame for some of her relationships failing, but she had never cheated on any of her girlfriends.

“So…” Jill paused.

She had never before hesitated to ask about whatever she wanted to know, so now her hesitation made Crash lift her head. “What?”

“I was just wondering… You're not interested in anyone right now, are you?”

Crash almost snorted. She eyed their half-naked, entwined bodies.
Uh…hello?

Before she could point out the obvious, Jill continued, “I mean…this,” she gestured at them, “is okay as long as we're both single, but if there's anyone you could have a future with…” She paused again. Her chest heaved under a deep breath as if she had to force herself to get the words out. “I know it'll only last until filming ends, but if you meet someone else before that, I don't want to stand in the way.”

Crash looked into her eyes.

Shadows darkened the green irises. Jill worried her bottom lip with her teeth and directed her gaze away from Crash's.

Gently, Crash reached out and tipped Jill's chin up so they made eye contact again. “There's no one else.” Lying here with Jill, she couldn't imagine that there would ever come a time when another woman would capture her attention the way Jill did.
God, you're in much too deep. Like she just said, filming will wrap in six weeks and that'll be the end of your arrangement.

Jill took her palm off the burn mark and clutched Crash to her with both hands for a moment before letting go and sitting up. “One thing's for sure,” she said as she put her drawers and petticoats back on. Her voice vibrated with emotion. “You'll make some woman very happy one day, in and out of the bedroom.”

Instead of getting up too, Crash remained lying on the couch and stared up at the trailer's ceiling. The problem with that prediction was that she didn't want some woman. The more time she spent with Jill, the more the realization became clear in her mind: Jill was the one she wanted.

The problem was that Jill was a package deal. She came only with a chronic illness that neither of them seemed to know how to handle.

Now fully dressed, Jill perched on the edge of the couch, put one hand on Crash's hip, and looked down at her with an expression of concern. “What is it?”

Crash sighed, knowing she would only drive Jill away if she voiced her thoughts. “Just thinking about the stunt I'll have to do later.”

“There's no fire involved is it?” Jill's brow furrowed.

“No.” Crash swung her legs off the couch. “No fire involved.” But as she was fast coming to realize, fire wasn't the only thing with the potential to hurt.