Torn (5 page)

Grace nodded, her tan cheeks dimpling as she smiled. “Yep. I’m a kitty cat.” That being said, she dropped to all fours and crawled away from the trio, meowing in a manner that made her sound like a cat with a twisted tail.

“
Oi
,” Chelsea murmured, sliding Tyler a glance from the corner of her eye, watching him watch her daughter as he straightened. “She’s going to be in rare form tonight.” Chelsea and Tyler were both laughing as Jake returned from the kitchen, three open bottles of Corona in his hands and a quizzical look for his wife.

“Grace,” Chelsea said.

Jake snorted. “Goofy kid,” he muttered, but a deaf man could hear the love in his tone. He gave a beer to Tyler first, then his wife. Taking a sip, he shook his head.

“Faye’s Scales,” the budding astrologer paused in her caterwauling to declare it to the adults from clear across the room, then resumed her yowling.

Tyler looked over at Chelsea, his eyes questioning. She chuckled. “Gracie is telling you that her sister is a Libra.”

“Oh.”

The actor’s gaze met Jake’s, who rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Don’t look at me. It’s Chelsea’s thing,” Jake said, taking another swallow of his beer. “She studies it, shares it with our girls. I figure one aspiring astrologer is enough for any family, but the girls disagree.”

A gentle but persistent tug on his hand had Tyler looking down to his right. Faye dimpled at him, flipped another errant length of hair over her other shoulder. “Momma could do your chart,” Faye added. “She did ours.”

Tyler shot a questioning look over at Chelsea who looked delighted by the prospect. “I’ve always wondered what time you were born,” she admitted. “And I have this really cool computer program…”

“Three after twelve in the afternoon,” Tyler responded to her unasked question.

Chelsea’s eyes sparkled. “I’d almost guessed it. I had a feeling you were born around noon.”

“Can you roll your tongue like a burrito? Like this?” Faye suddenly interjected, adding action to question as she tapped his arm.

Tyler stuck his tongue out, and to Faye’s delight, its sides were curled up to form a cylindrical shape, just like hers. Giggling, she hollered for her sister to come see, who ran to show the newcomer that she also could manage that trick with her own tongue, having figured it out just a week or so earlier.

“Momma can’t, you know. Daddy and Gracie and me can do it, but she can’t. She’s the
only
one.”

Chelsea rolled her eyes, nudged her eldest lightly with a hip, causing Faye to shriek out a laugh as she collapsed to the floor. “It’s true. I’m not in with the In Crowd.”

“Welcome to
my
world.” Enjoying the dazed look on their guest’s face, Jake propped his guitar against a wall, his lips twitching as he fought a smile. “I’ll put the steaks on the grill. I’ll rescue you when they’re done.”

“’When they’re done’? The steaks or your kids?” the actor called after the other man’s retreating back.

“Both!”

~ * ~

It was close to four hours later by the time Tyler set his spoon down and leaned back in his chair. He picked up his cup of coffee and took a long, fortifying swallow. “I can’t remember the last time I had a meal that good,” he said, carefully placing the white, ceramic, Fiesta piece back on its saucer.

Beaming from the praise, Chelsea held out the nearly empty, matching platter of fresh baked, still warm fudge brownies and wiggled it. “One more?” she asked, shaking a can of whipped cream with her free hand.

Shaking his head even as he reached for another of the delectable treats, Tyler sighed, “You’re a temptress, Chels.” He patted his flat abdomen. The action pressed the soft folds of his charcoal grey shirt against the hard planes, and he smiled at his hostess whose attention seemed to waver from the plate she held to his body. “Evil woman.” He winked at her to show that he was joking, and Chelsea uttered a soft laugh.

Surprised by his familiar use of her name, Chelsea’s gaze shifted to her husband doing dishes, then to the can of whipped cream, a ghost of a smile hovering about her lips. “So I’ve been told,” she murmured. Her brown eyes focused on her guest as she put the dessert down and picked up the can of whipped confection. She tipped her head back and squirted the foamy treat directly into her mouth.

Realizing he was gaping, Tyler used his open mouth to take a big bite of his brownie, and focused on the act of chewing. It was either focus on that or focus on Chelsea and the whipped cream, and that particular path led to folly. He shifted awkwardly in his seat. Too late. He’d been alone for too long, he decided. If this was her way of paying him back for his earlier tease, she won this round.

Chelsea winked at her famous guest as she wiped a smidge of errant cream from the corner of her mouth, then stood and began clearing the table. She brought the dishes to Jake, who took them from his wife and placed them in the dishwasher.

Finishing his brownie, and deciding with amusement that maybe he couldn’t stand the heat, Tyler walked over to the living room and dropped onto the overstuffed cream sofa. Head tipped back as he soaked in the soothing atmosphere pf soft, murmuring voices and the clinking of dishware, he closed his eyes. One foot lazily tapped the honey-oak floor in time to the Willie Nelson that poured from the stereo speakers.

He was content, he realized. Relaxed. Probably for the first time in… He stopped the thought, and tried to remember when. Eesh. Had it really been that long?

~ * ~

Tucking Faye and Grace in for the night, Tyler was gifted with the distinct and welcome pleasure of telling the two girls a bedtime story, then kissing their sweet foreheads goodnight. Something wistful inside him clenched when Chelsea, who followed him into the room to kiss her girls good night, walked up to him, briefly placing a palm on his shoulder before turning to her children.

He watched –– with that same
something
relaxing deep within –– as she smoothed back the dark blonde locks on each small head, an intimate smile curving her lips upward as she gazed at her children. She glanced back over her shoulder, and their eyes met… and held. Suddenly he thought of her placing her hand on her belly earlier that day, as though she carried his child. How that tiny, impromptu gesture had touched him. He thought of how good she felt in his arms, of how soft her lips felt under his own. He wondered if her thoughts ran alongside his, what she would do if he reached across to her and ––

Jake walked in to the bedroom then, his presence inadvertently breaking the connection between his wife and the actor. Chelsea stood and slipped her arms around her husband’s waist, and Jake placed an absent kiss on her forehead, one hand gently caressing the small of her back. It was a gesture Tyler could easily see himself do; it was a place he could easily see himself fill.

Tyler walked out of the bedroom, feeling very much a third wheel… and more than a little disturbed by the strong feeling of jealousy provoked by Jake’s familiarity with Chelsea. He walked back into the living room, sat down on the couch, and stared morosely out the window. He was a married man for God’s sake. Briefly, Jennifer and her latest escapade came to mind, and his frowned deepened. More to the point,
Chelsea
was a married woman, and he’d just finished sharing a meal with her husband. In
their
home, with
their
children.

Even with that reminder, the golden sound of Chelsea’s soft laughter made him look up. She walked back down the hall with Jake. Their hands clasped together, her face raised and open like an adoring flower as she gazed at her husband. Jake, his handsome face light with love that Tyler doubted he cared could be seen, lifted his head to look over at the actor.

“
Ready for dessert?” he asked, releasing Chelsea’s hand as she stepped forward.

Tyler jolted, stunned. Surely Jake didn’t mean…

Chelsea took another step forward and turned into the kitchen. “I baked brownies,” her voice called from the other room.

Tyler closed his eyes, disgusted with himself. For a second, he’d thought Jake had offered his wife for dessert… And all he could think of was…
Yes.

~ * ~

A tap on his shoulder, snapped him out of his reverie. Opening his eyes, Tyler saw that Jake held out what looked to be a tightly rolled cigarette, but one whiff revealed more than that.

“Thanks, man,” Tyler said. He took the joint from Chelsea’s husband and inhaled deeply. It’d been a long while since he’d partaken in smoking marijuana. It felt good. Holding the smoke in his lungs, he offered the joint to Chelsea, who shook her head. Exhaling a cloud of pungent smoke, Tyler felt muscles he hadn’t even known were tense relax.

“No thanks,” she said, and took another bite of brownie.

“She doesn’t smoke pot anymore,” Jake clarified, taking the ganja cigarette from Tyler’s fingers and bringing it to his lips. “Hasn’t for years.”

“Why not?” Tyler asked, directing the question to Chelsea, who shrugged.

“I don’t know. Just didn’t feel like it anymore, I guess. Especially once I knew I’d be having children. Besides, the last time I did, all I wanted to do was sleep, so what was the point. I think I was just too accustomed to New York buddha.”

Inhaling more sticky smoke, Tyler blinked through it at the young woman. “New York buddha?”

A low, intimate chuckle full of unshared memories escaped from her lips. “What my friends and I used to call Mary Jane back when I lived in The City.”

“You’re from New York?” Tyler couldn’t keep the surprise from his tone.

Chelsea’s answering grin was almost feral in its smug Manhattan pride. “Born and raised, yo.”

Holding back his laughter with a snort, Tyler stood and stretched, shaking his head the next time Jake silently offered another hit. “I’ve gotta be going,” he said. “Got to be on set early tomorrow.” He eyed the joint again. “Well, maybe one more for the road.”

Rolling her eyes, Chelsea withdrew from the room and returned a moment later with Tyler’s coat. As he shrugged into the garment, Jake stood, Iya and Kemah automatically coming to his side, escorting the humans as they walked to the door.

“Thank you for supper,” Tyler said as he straightened his collar, “and the company.” He smiled at the two of them. “I had a great time.”

Chelsea grinned. “Thank you for coming.” She took a step forward, rose onto her toes, and impulsively brushed her lips against Tyler’s cheek. “We loved having you.” Her grin was wider when she stepped back, Jake’s arm slipping, possessively, Tyler thought, around his wife’s waist. “And don’t forget, the invitation’s open indefinitely.”

“Good to have you,” Jake added, seconding his wife’s opinion, and holding out his hand. “You’re welcome anytime. And thanks for your help with our girls. Faye and Gracie were pretty wound up tonight.” He laughed. “They love showing off for company.”

Tyler shook Jake’s hand, his eyes brightening with warmth. “It was my pleasure. Your girls are great. I hope to have several of my own just like them some day.” He walked over and stood next to his car, looked back at the couple silhouetted in the doorway. Chelsea was leaning into Jake’s embrace, and Tyler had no doubt that the reason why he couldn’t see Jake’s other hand was because it was cupping his wife’s rear end. After all, it was where his hand would be, had Chelsea been his. Brows knitted slightly, he waved, and then climbed into his rig.

“See you tomorrow,” Chelsea called out as he reached for the door.

Tyler looked up. Thanks to the new moon and a serious lack of neighbors, it was genuinely dark night. Only the wash from the security lamps on the garage and the warm glow from inside the house provided light. Even so, brown eyes met blue through the windshield of his vehicle. For the second time in his life, Tyler felt that tingle of awareness. Even the sudden bright flood of his headlights didn’t diminish the feeling.

Trying to push the feeling aside, Tyler turned the key in the ignition and, as he drove back down the driveway, he glanced into his rearview mirror. He was strangely relieved to see the door closed.

Chapter Three

H
e watched for a moment as Chelsea carefully smoothed the soft cotton calico of her gown. It was obvious from the gesture that she enjoyed the foreign feel of the material, of the light crunch of the petticoats beneath her palm. Something had occurred to him after he’d left the Morgan home last night: He’d seen Chelsea before. The memory was but a faint wisp, but it was there. Like the elusive song dancing on the tip of one’s tongue, it bugged the heck out of him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Tyler glanced around the set, as, in the distance, Julie cried, “Cut!” From the depth of exasperation in her voice, he figured their break just became longer than the originally planned hour. Long enough for him to thank Chelsea again for inviting him to dinner… and long enough to put to rest that nagging glimmer of recall.

For once, he wasn’t disappointed in the shooting delay. That was a surprise in itself for the consummate professional. Even more surprising was his eagerness to use this extra time to get to know his co-star. Maybe they’d go for a walk. The late afternoon sun just gave off a “going for a stroll” aura to the day. Plus, even though they couldn’t wander far, they’d get some privacy, which to him, was a precious commodity.

Tyler found his attention drifting back to the woman a few yards from him. There was just something about her that drew him to her, but damned if he could pinpoint what.

“Hey, Chels.”

She looked up and as he approached, a warm, ready smile in place as she raised a slender hand to shield her eyes from the sun behind him. Was it him, or did her eyes seem to shine a little brighter? Tyler rolled his eyes at his own ego.
Note to self: Don’t believe the hype.

“Tyler.” Her smile widened between twin dimples, and she nodded over at their director who appeared to be in deep discussion with a few of the other stars of the film. “Looks like it’ll be a while before Julie gets to our scenes. I was thinking about going for a walk.” She paused, her brown eyes shifted toward the setting sun. “Try to clear my head.” Her shoulders rose and fell in a tiny shrug, and she laughed softly at herself before facing him again. “Care to join me?”