Torn (9 page)

Tyler leaned back against the bench, understanding her more than she knew. “Jake doesn’t.”

“Not so much,” she agreed. “Not that he doesn’t love his girls or isn’t a good father. Jake’s an incredible dad. And he loves his girls more than life.” Sighing, she raised the can of pop to her lips and took another sip. “He just would rather stop at two.”
Or one,
she thought,
or none.
“Population Police.” She forced a smile. “But he promised to think about it. We revisit the subject every once in awhile.”

Wanting to change the subject, Chelsea picked up her sandwich and brought it towards her mouth. “What about you? Any kids in
your
future?” she asked, taking a satisfying bite.

Trying to hide his wince, Tyler shrugged, took a small handful of chips as he stared out of the side window of the trailer. He ate them before replying. “I don’t know.”

To Chelsea, they were the three saddest words she’d ever heard. “You don’t know?” It was her turn to lean back against the bench. “That surprises me.”

He flashed her a look, a quick glow of cobalt, before glancing away to look out the tall, narrow window. “How so?”

She sighed, dipped an index finger in the cold, wet ring left by her soda can. Making squiggles on the counter top with the moisture, she said, “I always figured you to be a ‘family guy’ for some reason. Even back when we first met, when I was seventeen and asking for your autograph. There was just, I don’t know. An aura about you or something, that to me, meant this is a guy who’d make a fantastic dad someday. The husband women wished for in the delivery room, the one who made all the other fathers-to-be look bad in Lamaze class.”

In spite of the gloom that settled on his shoulders, Tyler laughed, suddenly picturing himself exactly as Chelsea described. “I’d kick ass,” he agreed, “in the bringing the pillows department. Plus,” he flexed his fingers, bringing Chelsea’s attention to the long, tanned, strong-looking digits. “I’m killer at giving massages. I could even quit my day job if I were so inclined.”

The room, and his breath, suddenly stilled, as Chelsea’s eyes riveted on those hands, then lifted to meet his. Silence stretched and the air inside the trailer thickened as Tyler and Chelsea stared at each other. Something, deep, silent, and connected passed through them; Tyler knew she felt it at her quick intake of breath. Her eyes flickered to her finger where “Tina’s” rose gold wedding band shone in the fading light, to where his ring should have been, as his eyes followed. In costume, their personal rings didn’t have the look Julie was going for.

A rap on the door sounded before a sound guy stuck his head in. “Ty? Julie’s decided to shoot Tina and Paul’s scenes first, before she loses the light. Be ready in two.”

Slowly, Tyler stood and Chelsea followed, her gaze still locked with his, chocolate brown to winter sky blue. Her blink took the moment with it. She walked over to where her petticoats lay on the short, two-seater couch. He turned his back as she wriggled into them, then, at her okay, helped her smooth the overskirt around the crisp material.

She looked up at him as she hung the blue and white striped apron she’d borrowed back on the wall. “Are you ready?”

His eyes took on a mysterious glint, and he smiled. “Whenever you are.”

Chapter Six

“
A
ll right, everyone!” Julie Bishop shouted through her megaphone. “It’s time for supper break, but I want each of you back here in…” She checked her watch. “One hour. So don’t go far!”

She tossed the megaphone onto the chair behind her. As she stretched, she looked over toward the set and saw her favorite leading man in what appeared to be deep discussion with their stand-in leading lady. Julie couldn’t help but grin. Ty Benson and Chelsea Morgan had certainly found their stride in the past nine weeks of filming. They meshed together so well that she could almost believe that they were a couple in a past life. And not just any couple, but the downright annoying, “finish each other’s sentences” kind of couple. That is, if she believed that sort of thing, which of course she didn’t. Happily ever after and soul mates were strictly for the silver screen.

It hadn’t escaped her attention that Ty –– upon arrival to the set each morning ––immediately scanned those present. Julie knew he looked for Chelsea because the moment he spotted the young woman, the blue depths of his eyes would gleam as though the sun just slipped inside them.

Pocketing a small slip of yellow paper, Julie walked toward the pair. Her full, maroon-painted lips curved up into a smirk at the expression on Ty Benson’s face while he listened to Chelsea. From the attention he gave her, Chelsea had to be telling him the secret meaning of life, because the man was positively
transfixed
.

Chelsea, it amused her to see, became quite relaxed with the cast and crew as she spent more and more time working on the film. And her acting… As a director, Julie found it amazing that a novice was able to give such stellar performances with each take. Chelsea worked wonderfully with each actor in every scene shot so far, but her scenes with Tyler were –– in a word ––
riveting
. Ty and Chelsea carried out each act with such instinctive precision that it was nearly impossible to believe that they hadn’t paired together on a film prior to this one.

Now Ty was talking, and Chelsea showed him the same attentive courtesy that he’d given her. As Julie approached, she overhead the gist of the conversation: Chelsea was, apparently, having nervous jitters about doing a love scene, and she certainly wasn’t comfortable with having her chest bared for the world to see. She’d been so excited about actually being in a movie that she hadn’t noticed the nudity mention in the contract when she’d signed her name to the paper.

Ty was trying to both reassure her and cover his amusement at the same time. Truth be told, Julie could tell he looked forward to the scenes, improper though it might be. But he was a red-blooded male after all. Chelsea was lovely, and there were all these… quirks working with her that never failed to bring a smile to his eyes.

Like when Ty and Chelsea were arranged
just so
on the grass during a picnic scene, and “Tina’s” gown had slipped when Chelsea moved her leg, revealing a large tattoo of a bald eagle with a stylized tribal moon. Julie’s exasperated “CUT!” along with Chelsea’s “Oops!” had caused him to lose it. Julie couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her friend laugh like that, and he was still chuckling when Drew Maverick finished covering the tattoo with makeup. As far as Julie was concerned, it hadn’t been
that
funny, but obviously there was something about Chelsea that touched Ty in a way he’d never been touched before.

Then there was the time when Ty and Chelsea stood before the small, rustic log cabin that was Paul and Tina’s “home”, and Chelsea’s nose had sparkled. “Oh… Crap!” she’d exclaimed after Julie had hollered “CUT!” a second time. Chelsea removed the two tiny gold studs from her left nostril and gave them to Drew, who’d come running out with his make-up case to see what had gone wrong this time. Ty had clearly been startled –– it was obvious that he hadn’t even noticed them, probably because he was so used to seeing them by now.

Then there was Jake Morgan. After witnessing his wife kissing another man during a scene, he’d stopped visiting the set. Acting or no acting, Ty and Chelsea were simply way too good together for Jake to hang around and watch. So that meant that Ty had Chelsea all to himself each and every day.

Julie gave the pair a few seconds to register her presence but, when they didn’t, she cleared her throat. “Ty? Helllooo…”

Ty blinked and looked up at her from his seat on an old log. Julie stared at him, an odd mixture of caring and concern flowing through her. He glanced over at Chelsea as she came to her feet. Slowly, he did the same.

“What’s up, Jules?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Nothing, or everything.” She reached into the pocket. “Just on my way to eat when I remembered that my assistant passed this message to me during filming.”

He looked at the scrap of yellow paper as Julie held it out to him for a moment, then took it, He started to shove it into his pants pocket but stopped when he seemed to realize that he was still in costume.

“It’s from Jen,” Julie added, her gaze flickering to Chelsea’s before focusing on Ty’s face. Tyler’s blank expression caused a brow to arch high. Julie glanced over at Chelsea to see if she’d noticed and, by the tilt of the younger woman’s head and the slight twitch to the corners of her lips, Julie could see that she had. “Jennifer
Benson
. You know… Your
wife
?”

Ty’s brows knitted together as he looked down at the paper crumpled in his hand. Julie knew what it said, since the actress’ arrival in Black Creek had made the local morning news.

I’m back
, the note said.
Call me.

~ *~

Christ. Tyler’s eyes flashed to Chelsea before he faced Julie, wondering if his friend noticed. The carefully neutral mask the director wore told him yes. She’d noticed. Noticed him looking at Chelsea. Noticed him forgetting he even
had
a wife.

Swearing under his breath, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Thanks, Jules.”

Julie nodded and favored him with a pointed look that included Chelsea, who was staring at the yellow slip of paper in his hand as though it would bite. Tyler cocked his head briefly –– acknowledging her unspoken warning of caution –– and watched the exotic looking woman walk away.

When he faced Chelsea again, she looked pale, and he found the look in her dark brown eyes hard to read. He wished he knew what she was thinking. “Walk with me?”

Chelsea bit her lip, and Tyler suddenly knew exactly what she was thinking. That she should go home and have supper with her family. That she should be with them. She was gone from them often enough as it was during the day… But Julie had only given them an hour, and it would probably take about that long just to get back to her place, and he knew that Jake had taken his daughters fishing in Dillon for the weekend.

Jennifer.

His wife’s return must have delivered a blow, throwing Chelsea back into the real world, making her wonder when the line of ‘fantasy’ had blurred with reality. She had to be asking herself the same questions he was –– how could she have forgotten he was married? That she was married too? And the guilt. It showed on her face as surely as it did his.

A wave of that very emotion assailed her and some of it must have shown on her face because Tyler now looked at her, his cobalt eyes filled with concern.

“Walk with me,” he said again, and held out his hand.

Hesitating only a moment, as had become their habit Chelsea slipped her hand in his, and again, Tyler felt a spark of electricity when their palms touched. That sizzle of awareness that told him that he
knew
this woman… And that she
knew
him… intimately. But that was impossible, and didn’t even make sense… did it?

After all, he’d only just met her what? Two months ago? Granted, he’d been a repeat visitor at the Morgan home, had enjoyed supper with them on more than one occasion. Had bonded with Chelsea, Jake and their girls on more than one Sunday afternoon, playing pool in the basement, drinking beer and eating deer burgers. He and Jake had smoked pot while playing football and basketball on Jake’s Xbox. It didn’t take long for Tyler to discover that he and Jake had a lot in common, and apparently that included a growing… respect. For Jake’s wife.

Aww, hell, who was he trying to kid? He was falling for her.

Except this time, she was married and so was he. To
other
people. What a joke. Only he wasn’t laughing. And, as he looked over at Chelsea as she walked silently beside him, she wasn’t laughing either. But she
had
to know what he was going through. She
had
to be experiencing it herself. Because what he felt when he was with her… He’d never felt before in his life. And it felt too profound
,
too
elemental
, to be merely infatuation.

Tyler stepped up into his trailer, then helped Chelsea maneuver through the narrow entrance in her costume dress of vanilla petticoats under a dusky blue, cotton skirt. After that it was a stall for time as he rummaged through the trailer’s mini-fridge for two sandwiches and sodas.

Chelsea, having long ago discovered that petticoats and the dining booth in Tyler’s trailer didn’t mesh, had taken them off and was searching the narrow closet for the aprons they both wore to protect their costumes while they ate.

“On the sofa,” Tyler said as he hipped the refrigerator door shut, He brought their lunch to the table. “Just brought them back from the laundry.”

She pulled out two and handed one to Tyler, who took it gratefully and slipped it on over his head. Chelsea popped the pull-tab on the can and took a sip before sitting down on one of the cushioned benches at the foldout table. She watched as he did the same but, when he started to unwrap the wax paper from his sandwich, she couldn’t seem to keep herself from asking, “Aren’t you going to call her?”

Good lord ––her voice sounded petulant to her ears, petulant and even possessive. She
had
to get a grip on reality. She was
not
Tina. Tyler was
not
Paul. It was one thing to joke around with her girlfriends that “Tyler Benson” was her “fallback plan” when neither of them actually knew each other and the possibility of them ever knowing each other was slim to none. But now she felt so… comfortable with him. Similar to the way she did with Jake, but it was different. There was
something
that made it feel… deeper with Tyler. Inherent. Chelsea shook her head, frowning at her thoughts. She was making no sense at all.

Tyler was staring at her intently when she finally raised her head. “Not until later,” he told her. “I don’t usually call her while I’m on a set working. It’s too distracting. Besides, you and I have some issues, I think. We have a scene coming up that involves nothing but a raw nakedness of self, both figuratively and literally, and in order for it to work, we need to finish the discussion we’d started earlier. Don’t you think?”