“I never—” He may have been a gentleman, but he was still a man, and when a beautiful woman advanced like a tigress, he couldn’t turn himself to stone. Russ grappled to take in the idea of a life in Hollywood, making Hollywood money, and Gabriella’s advances. “Cheese,” he blurted.
Gabriella lifted one eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
Russ put his hands over hers and moved them off his chest, clasping them tightly. “Let’s eat.”
Her appraising gaze swept over him. “Sounds wonderful.”
Two quarter-cup servings of cheese, a bunch of grapes, six strawberries, and a sleeve of crackers didn’t look like much, considering what he’d paid. Gabriella nibbled on a strawberry as she scrolled through her phone.
Russ slathered a cracker with the yellow cheese. The white one smelled sour. “Do you really think I could sell a screenplay?”
Gabriella’s phone disappeared. “I do.” Slowly, she bit into a strawberry, then moaned. “This is delicious.”
“Thanks.”
“One of your best ways to break into the business is to write a screenplay a big name can’t say no to. Think Sandra, Carli, or Gabriella.” She bit her lip and looked away. “I mean, if you wanted to. I would love to be in a movie—written by you.”
Flattered, Russ pushed his crackers away. “I don’t know. Part of why I love what I do is developing the characters. I’d feel like I was inserting you, or anyone else, like a paper doll.”
That delicious lower lip appeared again. “I think you’d be brilliant!”
“Thank you, Gabriella. That means a lot to me, coming from someone who is a big part of the business.”
Gabriella’s eyes flicked side to side as she searched his face. “You’re unlike any man I’ve ever met, Russ.” She got to her knees and slid her hands over his shoulders.
“You’re one in a million yourself.” Russ’s voice took on a husky tone as his awareness spiked.
Before he could recall his vow to be a gentleman, Gabriella kissed him with passion, and Russ enjoyed every second. She moaned lightly, and Russ recognized the noise from times when she’d kissed men on the show. He pulled back, searching her face for sincerity. Her smile was full of sweetness, and he reminded himself that she was arealityTV star, not an actress.
The sun set behind White Top Mountain, and a chill swept over their little clearing. “We’d better get back before they shut the lift down for the night.” He packed up what was left of their meager meal, and Gabriella once again tucked herself into his side.
The walk back to the lift was slow because of her shoes. She prattled on about her producer and his latest idea to send them all to a small village in South America to build a school. Russ only half listened. He should be the happiest man alive—he had his dream girl on his arm. But something was off. Gabriella’s kiss had been exciting but lacked depth, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.
Chapter Eight
“Mom! It’s not due for two weeks,” said Karleigh Breneman.
“If you don’t start reading, you’ll never get it done,” admonished her mom.
“Ugh!” Karleigh tossed her long blond hair over her shoulder.
“What are you reading?” Alice asked Karleigh in an effort to curb the lecture she felt coming on.
At seventeen, Karleigh was willowy with huge blue eyes and had everything going for her. Not only did she play the violin and get good grades; she was truly kind and helped out with her mom’s charity efforts. Tonight, that included the Fall Festival.
Since Alice had signed up to help on Brittney’s committee, they’d agreed that a strategy meeting was in order. Brittney had asked her daughter to put the phone away several times while she and Alice worked on plans for the fundraiser, and her waning patience came through in her tone.
“The Scarlet Letter.” Karleigh flipped her phone onto the table, rolling her eyes at her mom. She was slated to be the next Miss Harvest Ranch and crowned on the final day of the Fall Festival.
“Oh, I loved that one.” Alice pressed her hand to her chest. The familiar rush that came when discussing a good book had her leaning forward and her mind sparking. “Hester Prynne is one of the bravest women in literature, and she was so rock-and-roll.”
Karleigh and Brittney turned to stare. “What do you mean, rock-and-roll?” Karleigh flipped through the pages as if Elvis’s gyrating hips were concealed within.
Pressing both palms into the Brenemans’ granite countertop, Alice explained, “Here she is, sentenced to a lifetime wearing this mark that identifies her as a sinner, right? But she doesn’t just stitch this block letter A or even do a thin outline or something. She goes all out and turns the letter into a work of art.”
Karleigh nodded. “Like she was proud of what she did.”
“Maybe.” Alice cocked her head. “But I like to think of it as an expression of her love. Like the time she spent with the father of her daughter was beautiful to her. She cherished it and didn’t want to cheapen it by doing anything less than her best. She gave him her best.” She sighed. “So romantic.”
