I need this break. Badly.
Our shooting schedule is demanding for everyone, but I’m in just about every scene. Most days I’m in makeup by five a.m., go straight to wardrobe, and am on set, ready to go with the sun barely up. The cast and crew have become like family the last few months, and I’ll miss them for the two-week Christmas break, but I’m going to relish every day off.
“You sure you don’t want to come home with me?” Takira asks from her bedroom across the hall. “I know you dread seeing your family.”
I snap my suitcase closed and walk over to her bedroom where she’s still packing.
“I don’t dread seeing them.” I roll my eyes at her knowing look. “Okay, I don’t enjoy seeing Terry and Brandon, but I miss my mama. My aunties and cousins. And I want all my mama’s food.”
“Oh, are we indulging for the holidays?”
“I still won’t eat red meat or pork, but mac and cheese, stuffing, deviled eggs, yams, sweet potato pie, collard greens, corn bread? Babeeee, all them bets are off.”
I sprawl on her bed, wallowing in the stillness I’ve had so seldom the last few months.
“Besides,” I continue, “Terry and Brandon are going to visit his mama’s people in Virginia. I doubt I’ll see them much, if at all. I’m coming back for New Year’s Eve.”
“Aww.” She turns from her closet and pokes her lip out. “It’s my parents’ fortieth anniversary, so we’re giving them a party on New Year’s Eve. You’re welcome to join us in Texas. I don’t want you ringing in the New Year alone.”
“Girl, me, Ryan Seacrest, and that big ol’ apple dropping will be just fine.”
“You sure? ’Cause if you want to—”
“I promise I’ll be okay.”
My phone pings, and I reach into my back pocket for it to check the incoming text.
Livvie: Thank you again for the cookies! You’re so sweet.
Me: No problem! It’s not much, but I hope you enjoy them.
Livvie: They’re so good! I already ate half of them and am hiding the rest from my boyfriend. LOL!
Me: I’m glad! Merry Christmas. See you after the break.
Livvie: Byeeeeee! Merry Christmas. ?
“That was Livvie,” I tell Takira with a smile. “Thanking me for the Christmas cookies.”
“Well I’m glad slaving over that hot stove making all those cookies paid off. Everybody seemed to love them.”
“It was fun and easy.” I shrug. “No big deal, and the crew especially work so hard. I wanted them to know how much we appreciate them.”
The doorbell interrupts us, and I hop from the bed.
“I’ll get it.”
I shuffle down the hall, practically skipping at the prospect of days with no hair and makeup, no fittings or rehearsals or dance routines or dawn pick-ups. When I open the door without even checking the peephole, the man on the other side is the last person I expected to see.
“Canon?”
It goes without saying he looks bitable. His hair is longer than I’m used to seeing it. The cream-colored cable-knit sweater is stark against the mahogany of his skin. The sleeves are shoved up, exposing the corded muscles of his forearms.
“Hey.” He peers over my shoulder into the house. “Can I come in?”
“Oh. Sure. Yeah.”
I step back to let him in, suddenly self-conscious of my bare feet and shiny face; of the fact that I’m wearing no bra under my maxi dress. My hair is its own solar system, the big coils puffing in orbit around my head.
For a few seconds we simply stare at each other in the privacy of the foyer, but it doesn’t feel awkward. It’s a thirsty silence. We’re drinking each other in, taking long gulps of one another when we’ve been alone so little.
“Oh!” I say, grasping for anything that resembles normal conversation. “I have something for you.”
“You do?”
He follows me into the living room, and I bend to retrieve a festive tin from under our Christmas tree.
“I couldn’t find you today when we broke,” I explain, offering the cookies to him.
He pops the lid, peering down at what’s inside and yielding a tiny curve of his lips. “Gingerbread.”
“My mama’s recipe.” I laugh self-consciously. “Buttercream icing. I gave them to everyone, but I didn’t see you today.”
I don’t have to say it for us to both know how little time, by design, we spend together. He closes the lid and frowns, tracing the raised pattern of the wreath decorating the tin.
“I didn’t get you . . . shit. I guess I didn’t get anyone anything. Some boss, huh?”
“I’m not tripping, and I know the rest of the cast and crew aren’t either. We know you’re busy.”
“So are you.” He tucks the cookies under his arm. “But you found the time. You always seem to find time for people. Thank you.”
His eyes intent on my face, the admiration in his words, warms my cheeks.
“It’s really nothing. It took . . . took no time.” I laugh, needing to shift the attention. “So what brings you by?”
He glances around the living room and up the hall. “Are we here alone?”
“Um . . .Takira’s in her room. We could talk outside?”
“That’d be great, yeah.”
I lead him out back to my favorite part of this house. We step into the courtyard, the lush grass tickling my bare feet, licking between my toes. A lemon tree lends the air the invigorating scent of citrus.
“Nice,” Canon says, sitting on the stone bench where I take a few moments to meditate some mornings.
“Yeah, we like it.” I sit beside him, leaving a few inches and half a pound of cookies between us. “We didn’t have lemon trees in our backyard in North Carolina, and we don’t have yards in New York. LA is spoiling me.”
“I’m sure you’ll have more offers after this movie. Maybe you’ll consider moving out here.”
We stare at one another for a few seconds before I have to look away, the pent-up intensity straining my control.
“So did you need something?” I ask, knowing he must since there are no “just because” visits with us. I pull one knee up to my chest and swing the other leg, needing something to do with myself while I wait for his response.
“I was wondering what . . .” He clears his throat, stands, and walks over to the lemon tree, where he rubs a leaf between his fingers. “I was wondering if you have plans for New Year’s Eve.”
It’s not what it sounds like. There’s an explanation. It’s a studio New Year’s party. There’s an event. The suits want to show the cast off. Something work-related.
“Um, I’m actually coming back to LA for New Year’s.”
He plucks a leaf from the tree and twirls it between his index finger and thumb. “Would you like to spend it with me?”
My foot slips off the bench and I almost fall, catching myself just in time. I grip the bench and let my bare toes dangle in the grass. “What do you mean? Like a party or—”
“More private.” He glances up, a slow-burning fire in his eyes. “I was thinking just us for a few days.”
If he had said we’re boarding the next spaceship for Jupiter I couldn’t have been more surprised. Even though I know Takira can’t hear us out here and that no one is listening, I walk over, standing close enough that he’ll hear me whisper. “I thought you said we had to wait.”
His usual inscrutable expression softens, opens to show me what he’s thinking, that he’s feeling.
“I thought I could.” He pushes the hair away from my cheek, over my shoulder. “I was wrong.”
There could be a dozen cameras out here right now and I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. I tip up on my toes and link my hands behind his neck. “Yes.”
“Don’t you want to know—”
I press my finger to his lips. “I said yes.”
He slides his hands down my back to rest at the curve of my hips, pulling me closer.
“What changed your mind?” I ask. “You’ve barely acknowledged my existence since Thanksgiving and you seemed to be clear we shouldn’t . . . we shouldn’t ’til after the movie wraps.”
“I still feel that way, but I’m hoping we can be discreet. I need something.” The way he looks at me brushes heat over my cheeks. “I want you.”
He dips, takes my lips, and cups my ass. I strain up, opening my mouth under the hot, seeking slant of his. It’s been weeks and I’m starved for this. His hunger circles mine and we’re groaning and I’m grinding up against him, completely prepared to mount him under this lemon tree. He breaks the kiss, breathing as heavily as I am.
“We’ll wait,” he pants against my lips.
“Where?”
Antarctica?
Great this time of year.
The moon?
Who needs gravity?
Because wherever he says we can be together, even if only for a few days secreted away from everyone, that’s where I’ll be.
“I’d like it to be out of town,” he says, “but we start shooting again in a few days, so I need it to be close. Easy. Ever been to Santa Barbara? There’s this place I rent sometimes when I need to get away.”
“That sounds great. I’ll be back a few days before New Year’s.” A bitter laugh escapes me. “I’m going home for Christmas, but I don’t exactly expect a relaxing time and I need to get into the right frame of mind before we start shooting again.”
His big hands at my waist tighten and then caress my back. “You nervous about seeing your sister?”
“I don’t know that I will. Maybe. They’re spending Christmas in Virginia, and I’m only staying a few days. I have no idea what to expect.”
“I hope it goes well.”
“I’m most looking forward to spending some time with my mother. Somehow our relationship suffered even though the split was between Terry and me.” I shrug, not wanting to discuss my family right now. “Anyway, so I’ll be back a couple of days before New Year’s.”
“I’m spending Christmas Day with my mom’s people in Lemon Grove, but I’ll be back in LA that night. When you return, we could drive up to Santa Barbara and come back to LA New Year’s Day. Give us time to get ready for shooting to resume. How’s that sound?”
As an answer, I nod and kiss him lightly, squeezing his dense muscles. I want to do cartwheels through the backyard, but I try to play it cool. He’ll find out soon enough how not-cool I am when it comes to him. His hands tighten at my hips and he groans into our kiss, and then pulls back after a few seconds to drop his forehead against mine.
“I need to go,” he says on a ragged breath. “Kenneth and I are meeting with the set design team one last time before we break for the holidays.”
Taking my hand, he grabs his cookies from the bench and we walk back into the house. In the foyer, he leans against the door and pulls me close to kiss me again, like he can’t help it. Like I’m against his better judgment, but he can’t resist. I feel that. In his arms, risk weighs less than this necessary passion. And it does feel as necessary as breath. He’s hard through the thin fabric of my dress and I have to stop myself from dropping to my knees right here and taking him down my throat.
It has been a long time, and he is the only man I’ve really wanted in ages. He breaks the kiss after a few drugging seconds, and when he pulls away, desire glazes the eyes that are usually so focused.
“I really have to go.” He dips to kiss my forehead. “Thank you again for the cookies. Merry Christmas.”
Once he’s gone, I dance around in a circle.
I’m going to have him.
I’m going to have him.
I’m going to have him.
“So, question.” Takira’s pointed words break the spell, and I stop mid-circle, staring at her in surprise. I’d forgotten she was even in the house. “What was Canon Holt doing here, and why were you kissing him?”
“Uh, you saw that?” I squeak, unable to hold back a broad, delighted smile despite getting caught.
She crosses her arms, eyes bright with curiosity and anticipation. “Girl, you got some ’splaining to do.”
