Action

“Yeah, we need to get it finished fast before the landlord inspects the place,” said the short one. The suspicious one elbowed him in the ribs. “Oh,” the short one said when he realised who Jack was.

“It’s okay.” Jack held up his hands. “I don’t care about making the movie. I just don’t want anything illegal going on.”

“That’s right,” the short one said. “Marianne said you were helping out with the boyfriend part.”

It t

ook Jack a minute to follow the conversation and then it clicked. The kiss on the porch. He was in a movie. A wry smile curled his lips. Unbelievable. He wondered what else he’d been roped into and didn’t know about.

“You don’t have to worry,” the whiny one said. “Davina wouldn’t do anything against the law. She’s really cool.”

“Well, there’s the equipment,” the short one said.

The suspicious one elbowed him again. The short one turned to him, seriously grumpy.

“If you don’t stop that I’m going to kick your head in.”

“Boys,” Jack said in his cop voice, before they turned on each other. “What about the equipment?”

“It’s nothing,” the short one said as he continued to scowl at his friend. “Davina borrowed it from work and it has to go back before they notice.”

Jack smothered a laugh. This was getting better and better.

“Is that it?” the suspicious one said.

“No,” Jack said. “Hand over the brownies or I’ll tell your parents you were bunking school on Friday.”

They protested loudly but in the end he got one of the containers of brownies. He left them arguing about who should and shouldn’t have told him what as he returned to his car. Once inside he settled back, popped the Tupperware lid, and helped himself to a drug-free brownie. It was delicious. Some might even say magic.

In the darkness he grinned widely, then erupted into laughter. So Davy had a house full of stolen goods after all. Like he cared about film equipment. He didn’t even know what it was. He thought people made movies on their iPhones these days. Still, this was priceless. The crazy woman was using his house to make a film and had even manipulated him into acting in it. The encounter at the front door played live in his head. Not that there had been much acting on his part. He sighed happily as he reached for another cake. Davina Davenport had been leading him a merry dance since she whacked him on the back of the head. It seemed that she was having all the fun – at his expense. Well, he’d put a stop to that. Starting tomorrow he was going to have some fun with Davina.

He could hardly wait.

CHAPTER EIGHT

7 DAYS TO MAKE A MOVIE...

DAVINA WAS UNDER SIEGE. She peeked through the net curtain again. Yep, Jack was sitting in the same spot he’d been in for over an hour. He was smack bam in the middle of the overgrown lawn, sitting on a tatty deckchair staring at the house. He was freaking her out. She knew she should go down and confront him, but she was worried about what topics would come up. She didn’t want to talk about kissing him on the porch, or getting naked in the changing room, or running out on him in London, or anything to do with the house at all.

As she watched, he smiled. She stepped back from the window. He was definitely messing with her. There was no way she could cope with him staring at her all day long. With a heavy sigh, Davina realised that there was nothing else for it but to find out what the idiot was up to. Her feet were heavy as she plodded down the stairs. It was hard to remember what life was like before the stress of dealing with Jack Miller.

“Nice day,” Jack said as she picked her way through the overgrowth towards him.

Davina wrapped her arms around herself, snuggling in deeper to her lamb’s-wool sweater. The weather had finally decided to act like it was October. It was grey, it was cold and there were plenty of rain clouds threatening overhead. Nothing nice about it.

“If you say so,” she told him as she came to a stop in front of him. “What are you doing?”

“Sitting.”

“You’ve been there for over an hour. Why are you sitting?”

“I’m thinking.”

He sipped his coffee. Davina had visions of braining him all over again, only this time she would tie him up and leave him where no one would ever find him.

“About what?” Her voice was thin.

“The house.” He motioned towards it. “I think you’re right. It would make a great guest house. Maybe some sort of retreat. As soon as I get you out of there I’m going to renovate the place. Start a new life for myself.”