Jacob’s gaze finds mine, and that tingly feeling rushes over me. My breathing grows a bit labored as I wonder what it would be like to kiss him, to give into the want that is growing each time I see him. I imagine the way his hands would feel on my body, those soulful green eyes watching me touch him.
I swear he can see it all. It’s as though he can read every thought, desire, and need that is racing through my head.
I blame Cybil for these thoughts.
“Jacob, you’re going to have to figure it out because we aren’t feeding you for the next four and a half months,” Ellie says as she walks toward the cabinet.
Jacob raises one of his brows and turns to his sister-in-law. “I’m on a rotation, that was the deal for having to sleep in that damn thing.”
“I said you could stay here a few nights,” Ellie says with her brow raised.
“But if I did that, I’d have nothing to complain about or hold over your head. I prefer to eat and run.”
“Well, next weekend you can go into town to the festival to get your own food.”
He groans. “The hell I can. I’m not going to the festival.”
“We’re all going as a family, and that means you too, Jacob. This is all the time we have with you, and Hadley will be devastated if you don’t go,” she informs him and then turns to me. “Brenna, you and the kids are going, right? Do you want to come with us?”
“We are, but I’m pretty sure Sylvia and Dennis will want to come with us. They mentioned something about taking the kids for the weekend.”
“Then we can all meet there and they can take them back to their place when we leave. It would be great for the kids. Melanie and Sebastian can hang out with Hadley and Austin. Plus, I’m sure you’d like time with people other than your in-laws.”
Ellie knows all too well how crazy Sylvia is driving me. When she mentioned—demanded—we attend the fair, I was livid. I’m not a child, and I know she’s needing to mother someone, but I can’t handle it.
I’m trying, but my patience is wearing thin.
This morning, she came over before school to drop off clothing that was more “suitable” for Melanie. She let me know that I was giving her a bit too much freedom in her attire, and she found some things that were a little more modest.
I wanted to scream, but I smiled, took the clothes, and threw them in the basement still in the bags.
She can say that again, but then I look at Jacob. “I’m not sure . . .”
“Jacob, you will need to just go over there and pick them up, then they can’t refuse us.”
“Me?”
She nods. “Of course, you. Sebastian won’t be able to resist.”
“Ellie, that’s not really necessary.”
“No, but if the kids know this is the plan, neither of you can bail on us, so I’ll be sure to make sure that part is covered. You and Jacob can meet us since he knows the town better. It also gives you the perfect excuse to get time around people your age.”
“I don’t know . . .”
Jacob moves a bit closer. “I don’t mind.”
I look over, shocked. “What?”
“I’ll get you guys on my way over. We can be outcasts together.”
“You’re not an outcast here.”
He’s like the second coming of Christ.
He laughs. “I assure you that, among my brothers, I am.”
Ellie scoffs. “You are out of your mind. This town loves you all.”
“They loved when we left.”
“That might be true, but they’re welcoming you all back with open arms.” Ellie turns and goes back to the cooking. “I mean, you’ve been here a month and a half and there’s still no press. It shows that they’re either not impressed by you or they’re willing to help you.”
Jacob rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I’ll get Brenna and the kids, and we’ll meet everyone at the festival.”
“I’m glad I have a say in this,” I say under my breath.
He smirks and then leans closer, whispering, “If you’re afraid to be alone with me . . .”
“I’m not scared at all.” I’m fucking terrified.
“Good. It’s a date.”
Chapter Thirteen
Jacob
My phone is blaring for the tenth time, and I know if I ignore it again, my publicist will just keep calling. I love Catherine Cole. She’s amazing at her job, but she’s a pain in my ass.
“Hello, Cat.”
“Oh, well, look who answered his phone. Hello, Jacob. I was starting to worry that once again, you ran out of the country again like when you disappeared for your brother’s wedding without telling me.”
“And face your wrath again? Never.”
She laughs once. “Funny. Now, you have fifteen minutes to prepare yourself.”
I glance out the wall of windows in my tiny shithole, wondering if she’s going to appear out of thin air.
Catherine sighs in exasperation. “I’m not there, dummy. You have a conference call with Noah about scheduling the scenes he wants to reshoot, which you’d know about already if you had answered any calls, texts, or emails.”
“Fuck.”
“Yes, fuck. Fuck is a good word because you would have been fucked if I hadn’t covered your ass for not returning emails.”
“I forget about email.”
“Yes, well, we’ll talk about that when we have more time.”
If one were to meet Catherine, they’d think she was a sweet, kind woman with dark brown eyes that seem almost like melted chocolate. What most never realize is that she has fangs, and she bites.
It’s lucky for her that her husband, Jackson, also scares the fuck out of me, so I try not to piss her off. It keeps her fangs tucked away so I won’t get bit . . . and then probably shot.
“It’s why I pay you the big bucks. To keep me on my toes.”
“Yes, I remind myself of that daily. It shouldn’t be a long call, but he had a few concerns for the sequel. It might be nothing, but since Navigator did so well, we need Flight Plan to do better, and the trailer is rolling out soon.”
The story of having a success. In this movie, I go up against my nemesis, who happens to be my brother, only I don’t know that. Of course, we leave this movie off on an epic cliffhanger that will leave them panting to find out what comes next.
We are supposed to start shooting the third movie as soon as I’m back.
“Have you read the new script?” Catherine asks.
“I did. Did you?”
She clears her throat. “I am . . . trying, but it’s . . . well . . . horrible.”
“Oh, thank fucking God. I hate it.”
“Me too!”
The two of us launch into a conversation about what a shit job this new writing team did with the third script, Forced Landing.
“I’m going to bring it up to Noah,” I tell her. “If I can’t get through it, there’s a problem.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
It’s a risk, but Noah most likely has concerns as well. The one thing that sets him apart is his ability to see a script and just know. Now, we’re all sort of contractually bound to this series of movies, but that doesn’t mean he can’t send a script back to the writing room.