Backstage Romance: An Austen-Inspired Romantic Comedy Box Set by Gigi Blume (ebook reader with highlighter txt) 📕

On any other day, I would have found all sorts of arguments to rile her up, but I didn’t have it in me. It was surprisingly peaceful to lie there and let the world pass by over our heads. We stayed there, looking at the ceiling for who knew how long. It was quiet and meditative and probably just what I needed to unclog my busy mind.

“We should do this more often,” I said on a whisper.

“Yeah. It feels like forever since I’ve been here.”

“That’s because the last time you came over was when you played that prank on me.”

“That wasn’t… I mean,” she stuttered. “I didn’t play any prank on you.”

“Then explain how a hundred garden gnomes appeared on my front lawn.”

She laughed. “I promise you, that wasn’t me. How could I possibly sneak a hundred gnomes without you catching me?”

“You had help. It was probably one of those guys in FX makeup. They’re always pranking everyone.”

“Maybe they did it without me, then.”

“You’re the only one who knows the gate code. It had to be you.”

She was quiet after that. It was definitely her. After a long moment, she took my hand and squeezed. Turning her head, she regarded me with a soft expression and said, “You made quite the compelling argument today when you cut out the John and Penelope kiss.”

“Do you side with Frank on the subject?”

“No. The world doesn’t need a film about a woman with a weak mind and no scruples.”

“I’m glad you agree.” It was interesting to hear her point of view. I saw it purely from my character’s perspective, but she revealed a new layer, and a much more noble one.

“Are you going to cut our kiss, too?” Her question was quiet and tentative, like she was almost afraid to ask.

“No. We’ll leave that in.”

I could feel a little twitch in her fingers, but she didn’t let go of my hand. I didn’t want to let go just yet either, and I certainly didn’t want to cut our kiss from the movie. George Donwell was Penelope’s choice at the end of the movie. There was a grand sweeping duet at their reunion. The audience needed that kiss… and so did I. A few moments passed in silence, and I knew she wanted to say something else by the way her mouth opened but then closed when she thought better of it. Maybe she wanted to cut both kisses.

“Is that okay with you?” I asked, hoping she wouldn’t ask to cut it.

A soft shade of pink overspread her features, and she nodded. “Mmm hmm.”

“Good.”

“Jax?”

“Yes, Emma?”

“Do you want to practice?”

“Practice what?”

A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Our kiss.”

Did I want to practice the kiss? The short answer? Yes. Oh, yes. But I wouldn’t go through that again. To feel her soft lips on mine with no cameras, no crew watching to act as a buffer. On set, it could be as benign as choreography. But alone with her in my house, sharing a moment of bliss only to pretend it didn’t mean anything… I couldn’t do that. It almost ripped my heart out the last time that happened.

“No,” I replied, feeling a lead ball settle somewhere behind my navel, and I regretted my answer before the word completely left my lips.

20

Strictly Professional

Emma

Lately, when it came to Jaxson, I turned into a sassy tuna. Why, why, why did I ask if he wanted to rehearse the kiss? Who does that? Of course, he said no. It was just another one of my barmy ideas. Clearly, he had better things to do than kiss me… like organize his shoelace surplus or colour code his closet. Then I remembered it was he who invited me over. He had something ‘quite pressing’ to discuss, and the ‘pressing’ part had nothing to do with lips… obviously.

And so, mainly because I was embarrassed, I laughed as though it was just a joke. I laughed so hard and so long, it made Jax second-guess his reaction.

“I’m jus’ bein’ cheeky.” Yep, I was bringing out the London street talk now. “I’m all jokes, mate. Rehearse the kiss. As if.”

He shot up from the floor and offered me his hand to help me up. When I found myself on my feet, however, he didn’t let go. His hand was strong and rough, holding onto me like a charged wire. His thumb traced delicate circles on my wrist, and if I wasn’t already off balance from the proximity of his gloriously sculpted body, the contact would have done me in. I’d have forgotten my name had he not whispered it like a quiet plea.

“Emma…”

I wasn’t sure what sound came out of my mouth, but it wasn’t any kind of language known to humanity—unless caveman language counted. It was more of a gurgle, so swamp monster was more like it. He stared at me for what seemed like forever, the flame in his eyes matching the burning sensation in my chest. It lit into a fiery inferno and sent molten heat to every extremity of my body. I thought I might turn into a pile of ash at his touch. What was with this feeling that had suddenly ignited inside me whenever Jaxson was near? I’d known him for years and was never thrown off kilter like I’d been lately. Nothing made sense. It was probably all the pent-up energy from the movie. It was all new territory and putting both of us on edge. But in that moment, I didn’t care how or why.

He was so close. If he budged one more inch in my direction, we’d be touching in more places than just hands. I could already feel the charged air from his body tickle over the surface of my skin, even through my fabulous spandex workout suit. Even through my leg warmers.

His eyes searched mine looking for an answer I wouldn’t know. If he looked hard enough, all he’d find would be more questions. At length,