Hollywood Ever After (Red Carpet 1)

Josh paused before asking, “Does it bother you? Having to give him credit for part of the children?”

I shook my head. “He’s their dad. I know that they are the very best of him.”

He regarded me, murmuring, “You have a big heart. I confess I’d like to hurt him, severely, for hurting you.”

I looked at him. “I wanted to, in the beginning. But that would hurt the kids, which I would never do, not knowingly. I guess that’s why I’m still a bit worried about the book—for the kids’ sake.”

“You don’t portray him as a monster, the way I see him. It did happen, he did hurt you.” His voice grew thick and he took a deep breath. “How long has it been since you read it?” He turned curious eyes on me.

“I’m not sure I ever did. I wrote it then locked it up. It was a mental cleanse for me.”

“You should. It might make you feel more at ease.” His voice was gentle.

“I suppose it’s a good thing you find ‘mental’ attractive then.”

He laughed, his voice husky as he said, “That doesn’t accurately describe the way I feel about you.”

I shook my head. “Which is still a mystery to me. One of many mysteries surrounding you, Mr. Wiley.”

“I don’t want to be a mystery, not to you. Ask me anything.” He smiled at me, his eyes warm.

“Okay.” I paused, thinking of a question. “What did you want to be before you found acting?”

His brow furrowed as he thought about my question. “A musician. I enjoy writing and making music.” He turned onto a narrow road, unaffected by the lack of streetlights. “Acting seemed like a natural complement, and I do enjoy it, sometimes. But if I were given the opportunity to pursue music, that might take precedent.”

“How did you start acting?”

“A theater class. My first role, I was an understudy. The lead came down with chicken pox and suddenly I was Hamlet. Somehow I managed to be in every production following. Here, in Stratford, I filled in with the Royal Shakespeare Company a bit. One production went to New York, and I went too.”

“I couldn’t do it, put myself out there. It’s terrifying to me.”

“But it’s not to me. Living in someone else’s skin, however briefly, can be fascinating. Acting is an opportunity to investigate human nature, studying other people’s moti

ves, reactions, and ideals. Finding those stories makes it rewarding for me.” He slowed the car, turning onto a bumpy road.

I watched him as he spoke. I considered his words, his perspective on the craft of acting. I’d never thought of it like that, not really.

When I finally tore my eyes off him, it was dark. Only a dim outline of London’s skyline was still visible. He continued down a curvy lane until we came to a large house. “My father said he’d call ahead. The neighbor will have turned on the power and put some essentials in the icebox. So there will be hot water and lights and something meager for breakfast.” He smiled at me.

“Hot water sounds good. Food holds little interest right now.” I smiled at him. “I think lights are optional.”

“No, seeing is a requirement.” His eyes flashed, his hand soft against my neck. “Come on…”

Chapter Twelve

We climbed out of the car and made our way to the door. I tripped once but he caught me, laughing softly.

“I’m not even wearing heels this time.”

“I like catching you.” He left his arm around my waist as we moved toward the soft glow of the porch light. There were no other lights nearby, just a dim orange haze on the horizon. “That lovely orange glow is London,” Josh murmured as he watched me peering about in the dark.

“It’s really dark.” I stood beside him on the porch. “Scary movie dark,” I added softly, looking up into the night sky. “But the stars are amazing.”

“It is. I used to sleep with a nightlight here, when I was young.” He nodded, smiling. “The village is on the other side of the hill, not two miles from here. But it gets black as pitch at night.” He opened the door, the warmth and light spilling out onto the yard before we went inside.

“This is a little more than a cottage,” I said as I stared about the entryway.

“It’s small, really. Mum helped it grow, adding a room here and there. But it’s still a cottage.” He shrugged, smiling down at me.