Stunt Doubled: A Movie Star Standalone

He squeezed my fingers. “For my money, it was completely undeserved. I really admired your blog and your videos.”

“You watched my videos?” I’d tried to post one per day, sometimes explaining breathing techniques, other times demonstrating how to do a certain exercise or yoga pose with proper form.

“Yeah.”

“What’d you think of them?”

“I thought they were really well done. If I had female clients, I would’ve recommended your stuff to them.”

I cocked my head to the side. “But not male clients?”

“Hell no,” Ford said. “They would’ve just spent the whole time drooling over your body.”

In spite of the situation, I laughed. “You’re male,” I pointed out.

He grinned. “But I’m an enlightened one who can appreciate a gifted trainer… while at the same time appreciating her hot body.”

I couldn’t blame him for that. I spent a lot of time during our training sessions checking him out. It was just so fascinating to see the way his muscles moved when he did kicks or jumps or strikes. It was mesmerizing… and also a total turn-on.

Ford’s expression grew more somber. “Now that I know you in real life, I can’t understand why you walked away from everything you built.”

“At that point, it was already gone. No one wanted to give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“But you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It didn’t matter.”

“Ronnie.” Ford took my hand in both of his. He rubbed one hand lightly across the back of my knuckles. “You’re a fighter. Why didn’t you fight?”

“I did. For a while.” I sighed. I really didn’t want to think about those awful days, but I felt the need to get it all out in the open. Ford would understand. “Then they dealt a knock-out blow.”

He brought my hand to his chest, cradling it against his heart. I could feel the faint thrumming under his skin. ”Which was?”

“My brother and his partners had just opened a business. My friend Emma told me that on one day, they got five scathing reviews saying horrible things about every aspect of their operation. They’d never even had one bad review before that, so I knew it was because of me. The people who wanted my head on a platter decided that they were guilty by association.”

“So you took everything offline and disappeared.”

“Pretty much. I got lost for a while, but then I ended up here. Somehow.”

“I’m sorry it happened, but I’m not sorry you ended up here.”

I sighed. I couldn’t entirely agree with him. I was glad I knew him—Tanner too—but this wasn’t where I wanted to be at this point in my life.

Ford sighed. “It’s amazing how awful people can be. Especially online.”

“Exactly. I’d like to see some of those people say those things to my face.”

“And I’d like to see you beat the crap out of them.”

I smiled at him and interlocked my fingers with his. “Maybe we could beat the crap out of them together.”

“That would be fun. Kind of like a date.”

I had to grin at that. “For people like us, getting to fight and move our bodies probably counts as a date.”

“Sounds like a good one to me.” Ford took a drink of his beer. “Although eating in a pickup truck could be considered a date, too.”

“How so?” I picked up my own beer, but it was getting flat.

Ford noticed me make a face, and he reached into the back seat and produced a water bottle.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. So, reasons why this could be a date. One, we’re eating together in close quarters—as close as we’d be if sitting at a table, right?”

“Yes, but we wouldn’t have to balance our plates on our laps if there were a table.”

“But two, since your plate’s on your lap, it gives me an excuse to glance at it and to admire your sexy legs.”

“That could be done anytime, not just on a date.”

Ford’s eyes gleamed. “Did you just give me permission to check you out anytime?”

I laughed. “Sure, why not.”

“Good. Getting back to the is-this-or-isn't-this-a-date, we’re having a decent conversation. We’re sharing confidences. That seems like a date-like thing. And we’re getting along well. Neither of us has tried to stab the other with our kabob skewers.”

His logic was hard to follow but easy to argue with. “Getting along doesn’t make something a date.”

“Okay, how about this? It’s dark and romantic in here.”

“It’s the inside of a truck. How is that dark and romantic?”

“Well, you can’t argue that it’s not dark,” Ford began. “As to romantic… I have a few ideas about that.“

This was getting interesting. “Like what?”

“Well, the first involves you getting naked—”

I had to grin at his nerve. “Let’s move on to the second.”

“All right. That one starts a little differently. First, you put your plate up on the dashboard.”

“Is that the first step in some kind of ancient fight coordinator mating ritual?”

“Exactly.”

I couldn’t help grinning. “All right, I’m game.” I put my plate up on the dashboard, like he said, and then slid my legs under me so I could turn and face him. “How’s that?”