He paused and listened. “Right now I’m lying on a quilt, watching Uncle Jack argue with a very pretty girl. I think he’s losing. Beside me is Casey. She made the pie I ate….Oh. Okay.” He handed the phone to her. “Emmie wants to talk to you.”
Puzzled, Casey took the phone. “Hello?” She listened. “Yes, I can make grilled cheese sandwiches. I grill the bread, then put the cheese on the toasted part and re-grill the whole thing. Makes it very crunchy….No, I never use the kind of whipped cream that comes in a can.” She handed the phone back to Tate.
“Does she pass?” Smiling, he nodded at Casey. “Emmie wants to know where you got the hey-diddle-diddle pajamas and would you please marry her uncle—that’s me—and cook for all of us?”
Casey blinked a few times. “My mom got them. I’ll ask her where, and no.”
Tate went back to the phone. “Yes to the cooking, but sorry, she won’t take me as part of the deal. Story of my life. When will you be here?” He paused. “Yes, I’m sure Casey can make a pie that tastes like an Oreo.” He looked at her and she nodded. “I hear your mom calling you….Yeah, me too. Lots. Do try to behave, but feel free to nag to get here sooner.” He laughed. “No, you can’t ride the peacock. Go on, now. Kiss your mom for me.” He turned off his phone and looked back at Casey. “You were telling me the plans for your life.”
“No, I wasn’t. You’ve told me very little about yourself. How did you get started in movies?”
He took a while to answer. “The official story is that I was di
scovered by a director when I was nine years old. That’s true but it’s also a lie.” He rolled over and stood up, his long body unfolding like a great cat. “Let’s walk, or we may see what we don’t want to.”
Jack and Gizzy had stopped arguing and were now kissing.
“Besides, my libido can’t stand the torture. You wouldn’t want to…” He wiggled his eyebrows to let her know what he was thinking.
Maybe it was his ability as an actor, but he seemed able to project images into her mind. Lazily making love on the quilt. Sharing a glass of wine. Her lips on his sun-warmed skin. His mouth caressing her. Her—
“Stop it!” Tate said in a low voice. “Your face gives everything away and I can’t take it. You’re too desirable. The day is too warm, the air too fragrant, and I’ve had too much wine.”
Casey looked away from him.
“Come on,” he said. “I saw a path nearby.” He held out his hand, but before Casey could take it, he drew back. “Better not risk it. With our mutual thoughts, if we touch we might start a forest fire. How would we explain that arson to the fire marshal?”
What he said was so ridiculous that she laughed. “Okay, no touching, no anything but what friends do. Lead and I will follow you.”
Tate put his hand on his heart. “To a man, those are the sexiest words a woman can say.”
“How about this? Stop the melodramatic acting and go! Jack and Gizzy seem like they might start on the peanut butter.”
Tate began walking down the path. “Just so you know, the bad-acting hit was a good turnoff, but mentioning the peanut butter is enticing. Makes me think of you in those PJs with absolutely nothing on under them. Did your mother really give them to you? What was she thinking?”
“That I’m still a little girl who likes fairy tales. I thought you were going to tell me how you became an actor.”
They’d come to a shallow stream that they were going to have to wade across. “You ever see the movie Dirty Dancing?”
“A hundred times. Do you do the lift? Even I saw the movie where Ryan Gosling—”
Tate gasped. “Don’t put a dagger in my heart with my competition’s name.”
“You’re better-looking than he is,” she said seriously.
“You’ve made my day. So how about it?” He was pointing to a big tree that had fallen across the stream.
She knew what he meant: the scene in Dirty Dancing when Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey balance on the log while he talks about how he came to be a dancer. “Nope,” Casey said. “I’m not Gizzy. I don’t do logs. How about if we—”
Tate took her hand, but no electricity shot between them, just warmth and encouragement.
“How do you do that? Turn emotions on and off?”
“I have no idea. Some kind of control, I guess.” He started toward the log, but when Casey didn’t move, he put her hand to his lips. His voice dropped to a low growl. “The scent of you runs through my body. It delights me, excites me, drives me mad with desire. To touch you, caress you, to…” His voice was a whisper. “To kiss you, I would give my all.”
Casey was staring at him, unable to move or to speak.
He dropped her hand. “The log? Wanna try it?”