“I don’t,” I said. “I teeter.”
“It’s true. I had to catch her once myself.” Josh appeared, smiling his gorgeous smile.
Yep, there go my wobbly knees. I wrinkled my nose, frustrated. “Sorry, and thank you. I appreciate being saved from public humiliation.” I smiled awkwardly. Get a grip, Claire. I tried not to blush.
Josh gave me a slow smile, his eyes steadily watching me as he sipped his drink. He was intense, that was all there was to it. He was one of those very deliberate people, with eyes that seemed to peer into and search the soul. I looked away, disconcerted by the weight of his gaze—of how he made me exquisitely aware that I was a woman. Which was ridiculous…or was it?
I said the first coherent sentence that came to mind. “Shannon is pretty excited about the film you’re about to start work on.” I hoped Victor would run with that. My gaze bounced between the two of them as I attempted not to get lost in Josh’s sparkling hazel eyes.
Victor agreed. “I am too.”
Josh frowned. “Unfortunately, Hollywood rewrote what was once an excellent story.” He paused. “Have you read the book?”
His fervor surprised me. “Yes. You’re playing Barnaby?”
“I am.” He paused, as if considering his next words. “But the movie and the book depict two very different characters.”
“I was surprised it was being made.” I hesitated. “The book was an engrossing read, edgy and thought-provoking, but so bleak. Average people enduring a post-apocalyptic world—it’s hardly the stuff of the typical Hollywood blockbuster. I’m curious to see how it turns out.”
He was staring again. Why was he staring? I thought I heard Victor laugh softly. Stop looking at him!
“I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. Most of the overwhelming emotion—the rage, the sense of raw need, the authenticity, in fact—is gone.”
I couldn’t help watching Josh while he spoke. He had a fascinating face.
Stop. I needed to put space here. I stared at my painted toes while I spoke. “Unfortunately, there seems to be a negative association with unbalanced or mental heroes.” I smiled slightly, peeking at them both as I added, “I prefer to think of being mental as character building.”
They laughed.
“I suppose. Mental is more interesting.” I felt the heat of Josh’s gaze on my face. If I let myself, I had no doubt I could stare into his hazel eyes for hours.
Where did that come from? That was a pointless line of thought. What could he possibly see in me, an older woman who couldn’t walk in high heels or stop blushing… Maybe I needed another drink.
“Come on, Claire,” Shannon called from the next deck up. “I want you to meet someone.”
“Be right there.” Did I sound as disappointed as I felt?
“Looks like you lost your escape,” said Victor.
Josh cocked an adorable questioning eyebrow. “Escape?”
I bit my lip and determinedly focused my eyes on Victor.
“Claire wanted a barefoot walk along the moonlit beach,” Victor said.
Josh turned those hazel eyes on me. “Sounds nice.”
“When you say it like that.” I shook my head. “I will take these off, though.” I stooped down to untie the straps of my sandals, wiggling my toes and sighing as I removed them. “Excuse me, please.” I climbed the steps and made my way to Shannon, leaning against the rail of the upper deck.
Shannon smiled. “Claire, this is Michael Aubrey. Mike, this is Claire Collins.”
How many times had I watched Michael Aubrey’s Undercover Agent films? And now I was shaking his hand. “It’s wonderful to
meet you,” I gushed. “You’re such an amazing actor. I guess that sounds very pat, huh?”
He was the quintessential tall, dark, and handsome. He was older, with thick dark hair, dark brown eyes, and just the right amount of lines on his face to announce his experience without indicating he was in any way, shape, or form out of the prime of his life.
“It’s still nice to hear,” Michael replied, his tone easygoing. “Shannon says you’re a movie expert and groupie, so I’ll take it as a compliment.”