Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
The hospital scenes had been endless and, yeah, emotional. People had cried over him, held his hand, and stood stoically next to his bed with tear-bright eyes and said nothing, cowboy-style.
But the ranch?
It was completely awesome.
Seamus didn’t like it as much as the bullfighting school, to be honest, but he would never admit that to Bert. Or even Stephanie.
Just to the three core members of his team.
And to Dawes.
“Okay, guys, let’s reset and try that again.”
Seamus groaned, because he was hot. Sweaty. His legs were sore as hell. And he just wasn’t sure if they could get the shot Bert wanted here without some movie magic intervention.
“Here.” Nick brought him some juice and seltzer water, icy-cold and crisp.
“Thanks, hon. So glad you came out to the set.”
“Me too. You need some kind of luxury out here. I thought New Mexico was bad.”
“Well, you know, Inland Empire.”
“Yeah.”
“Dawson! Come watch this and give me some thoughts,” Bert bellowed. He seemed to love having a very real cowboy at his disposal.
They wouldn’t do playbacks until tomorrow, but they had digital camera stuff so they could watch immediate, real-time shots of how the rough footage would look.
Dawson strolled over to Bert, who had taken to him like a house on fire, and winked at Seamus on the way by. “What am I looking at, sir?”
“What do you think if we start Seamus on the other side—”
Dawson held up a hand, stalling Bert out.
“That depends on what bull you use. I reckon if he’s gonna turn to the left when he comes out, then you’ll have to start Seamus on the other side.
But if he’s fixin’ to turn to the right, you might as well keep him on the same side.
If you’re looking for something more realistic… ”
“I am. Seamus is doing a great job, but I think we need that dual bull fighter experience, and our extra just isn’t cutting it.”
Seamus could see it the minute it occurred to him to ask. Bert lit up and got that fiery zeal that only a director who just had a fabulous idea could have.
“Uh-huh.” Dawson actually took a step back and started looking very cautious, which he thought was hilarious. After two days, and only two days on the set, he already knew what Bert’s expressions meant.
“What if you stepped in to do the extra stuff, not showing your face? You don’t have to let everybody know it was you, but that way you could give Seamus direction right on the dirt.”
“Bert. Dawson is recovering from an injury,” Seamus pointed out.
“I’m not about to ask him to do anything truly dangerous,” Bert sing-songed. “These bulls are not industry bulls, really.”
“They’re better than the ones we had at the bullfighting school for the most part.”
“Well, I did get a California contractor to do the bulls…”
Dawson looked at Seamus, raising an eyebrow, silently asking him if he was okay with this.
All Seamus could do was grin and raise one shoulder, asking Dawson right back if he was interested in working on this side of the camera.
Dawson kind of chuckled. “We can try it, I reckon, and if it doesn’t work out, then no harm, no foul.”
“I knew I liked you.” Bert clapped Dawson on the shoulder, which made Seamus wince, but Dawson never even flinched.
“Well, you might want to reserve judgment on that until after you’ve seen me in the arena. I might not be what you’re looking for in this movie, but that’s okay.”
“Well, it’s not like I have to worry about it costing extra money. You’re getting paid to be here anyway, right?”
Seamus grimaced again. Oh God, that was an awful thing to say. Like Dawson was getting paid to be here with him. No one wanted to think about that.
He knew a lot of his team was that way, but Dawson wasn’t his team. Dawson was his lover. And while he didn’t mind mixing this kind of business with pleasure at all, he didn’t want Dawson to think he was only here in technical support or something.
“Well, sir, I reckon you paid me to teach Seamus how to do this. And Seamus asked me to come along, but that’s okay. I’m happy to help.”
God, he felt like he was on a rollercoaster. Trust Dawson to just come right out and say what he was thinking, too. The man was kind of amazing, and he could never have asked for more than Dawson sticking up for him and how much they cared about each other.
“Let’s get this man some gear.” Bert waved the costume and makeup crew over. “Get him suited up so we can see how they run together on the ground, right?”
While everyone scrambled to do Bert’s bidding, Seamus shook off the makeup person who was trying to freshen him up and walked over to Dawson. “You okay with this?”
“Yeah, I’m all right. Are you okay with it? I can call it off if you don’t want to deal with this.”
“No, I’m good. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I don’t intend to see you get hurt either, so this makes me feel better. Cowboy protection is my job right now. You’re the cowboy, not the kid who’s supposedly getting bucked off that bull.”
“God, you’re so much like Christopher. Although, I never had the urge to do what we do with Christopher.” Seamus reached out, twined his pinky finger with Dawson’s, and Dawson squeezed.
“No, honey. You are not Christopher’s type.”
He let his lips pop open in feigned shock. “Are you saying that Nick’s cuter than me?”
Dawes tilted his head. “No, but I am saying that Nick is way more emotional than you are.”
“Hey!” That came from Nick, who was shamelessly eavesdropping. “What are you trying to say? That Shay’s not emotional?”
Dawson winked at Nick. “He’s a stud, and tough as whip leather. You’re a marshmallow. I adore you, and God knows that you’re built like a brick shithouse, but emotionally? So squishy.”
If he could kiss Dawson right now, he would. Wasn’t very professional, but he’d still do it.
“Are you going to let him malign me like this?” Nick complained.
Seamus gave it about two seconds’ thought. “Yep. I totally am.” He blew a kiss to Nick. “It’s all done out of love. If he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t tease. He would just snarl and show his teeth like a dingo.”
“A ‘dingo’?” Dawson swatted his ass. “All right, I suppose I should get suited up. Let’s see how much you remember about working with me.”
“I haven’t forgotten a thing about—” He looked at Dawson up and down, admiring every denim-clad inch. “—working with you.”
Dawson’s cheeks pinked, and it owed nothing to the sun. “Not the same kind of effort, honey.”
Seamus cackled like a big bird, because that was a good one. Dawson was really getting into the spirit. “Bert is going to be blown away by you.”
Dawson suited up in the gear he’d brought but pulled on the jersey the movie costumer had provided. He clapped his hat back on his head, then gave Seamus a hard look, one that meant Dawson was at work. “Let’s roll, buddy.”
He nodded, determined to impress his lover and get this right. Dawson had taught him that anytime there was a real bull in the chute, no matter who was on him, he was to take it seriously. With an animal that big, things could go pear-shaped in a heartbeat.
They had a stunt man riding the bull, which was good because the young dude they had starring in this show was about as coordinated as a box of rocks.
Sweet boy. One hell of an actor.
Couldn’t walk and chew gum at the same time.
Seamus reminded himself that there was supposed to be a crowd of people all around him, cheering and making noise.
It didn’t really matter. It wasn’t like he was actually going to be doing any acting in this scene. He was going to be fighting the bull.
He didn’t have to act—there was a bull, and he was going to be doing his job with somebody he really cared about.
So, this wasn’t simply a practice run. This was the real show.
Dawson glanced at him, met his eyes, and he bobbed his head once, bouncing back and forth between his feet, staying light, reminding his exhausted leg muscles that they had to relax and get ready to do their job. They needed to twitch when it was time.
The cowboy loaded up, nodded, and the gate puller opened the gate. The bull turned to the right like he was supposed to, moving nice and steady, and Dawson had him.
All the while Seamus watched, kept out of the way of the hooves, eye on the cowboy when the bull switched directions about halfway through the ride.
Suddenly Seamus found himself on the business end of the bull, which Dawson would tell him was better than the hoof end. At least at the head he knew what was coming. He could never know when those hooves are going to snap out.
The buzzer rang, and the cowboy went down. Seamus grabbed one horn, tugged, “Come on this way.”
And Dawson snatched the cowboy, pulled him up, and tossed him towards the fence.
Seamus caught all of that out of the corner of his eye because he was very busy running, staying in front of those horns.
“Get in the damn pocket!” Dawson bellowed, and suddenly he did, turning on a dime and feeling those short horns whoosh by him.
Christ, that was close.
He spun, and they faced the bull together, leading it toward the gate, trying to get it out.
He had to admit he missed Little Bean, for sure. The guy who was roping here was okay, but he wasn’t a professional. He wasn’t used to doing this every day, day in and day out.
Damn
The rider got the bull in, they got the gate closed, and then Seamus went to stand for a second.
Well, bend for a second and pant softly.
He was tired and he needed a smoothie and possibly a massage.
“Good job, man.”
He blinked up at Dawson from where he was standing with his hands on his knees. “Yeah? You’re not pissed?”
Dawson shook his head. “Nope. You did exactly what you were supposed to do. Exactly what I told you.”
Dawson winked at him and slapped him on his back.
“How many times you figure we’re going to have to do that?
Because if it’s going to have to be a lot, I’m calling in Little Bean.
Hell, I’ll get one of the Taggart boys out here.
They’re retired, but they’d come. I think Chrissie’s out here in California even.
He’d be doing a damn better job than that guy. ”
Seamus smiled because he wasn’t sure who or what a Taggart was, but if Dawson thought it was good, he’d go with it. “Hopefully Bert is happy. He’s not screaming. That’s good.”
“You okay?” Dawes gave him a once-over, then hollered out. “Nick? Buddy? You got some of that electrolyte shit? He got no fat reserves.”
“Coming!” Nick came trotting over. No one was allowed on the dirt until any bulls were contained and any horse had moved out of kicking range.
“You don’t have any fat either,” Seamus grumbled at Dawes.
“More than you, buddy. I don’t have to look like you do. I just have to function real well.”
“One day, he’ll be seventy years old, and he’ll be able to get heavy—like really big, like five hundred pounds, and win an Oscar playing somebody really dramatic.” Nick was such an ass.
Seamus blinked over. “You’re funny. You act as if I work at this. I’m genetically blessed, and I know it, but I’ll take the drink.”
He was looking forward to the day when he could spend less time working out, that was for sure. Although that probably was never going to happen. Because it was just going to get harder, staying strong and fit.
He knew that he needed the drink because it didn’t taste like shit. In fact, it tasted good, so he sucked it down, his belly cramping with how good and cold it was.
“How many more times are they gonna want to shoot this?” Dawes asked, the dark sunglasses back on, along with the cap.
Seamus shrugged. “As long as they need, as long as they have the light. They’ll be able to piece together whatever they need in editing, I’m sure, but so long as they need us, we do our job.”
“Fair enough. Well, I’m going to hope for your sake that he got what he needed.”
Seamus was totally in. “That would be fabulous because then we can get the hell out of here and let them get some establishing shots. I don’t know about you, but I need a gigantic burger.”
Nick give him an arch glare.
“I’ll get it without a bun. Without a bun and with a salad. I just need a big chunk of protein.” He dared to wink at Dawes who turned bright red.
He bit back the urge to laugh and kiss him.
Hard.
Maybe maul him a little.
Which was when Bert called them over. “That was amazing, you guys. Seamus, how you doing?”
“Sinking a little, to be honest. This is a lot of bloody work.” He flashed Bert his best grin.
“Well, I think we got all we need with the bulls. If you and Dawson could give me a few more shots of like, what a bullfighter would do between bulls…”
“You got it.”
“What are they going to do about you getting hooked and injured?” Dawes asked.
“We’ll green screen most of that,” Bert murmured.
“Oh, good. Well, come on, Hollywood. Let’s get at it.”
He could tell Dawes was getting a tad grumpy as they jogged to the center of the makeshift arena, Dawes moving close, huddling up like he’d seen Dawes do with Coke and Nate, their hands on each other’s shoulders as they all said thanks for a day where no one died.
“Oh, my God, that’s perfect. Hold that right there…”
Bert sounded ecstatic, but then, Dawes was the real deal. The genuine article.
“Someone take Dawson his cowboy hat. I need this shot in this lighting and we’re done.”
Dawson’s lips curved. “This would make me insane if I had to do it every damn day,” he murmured. “I have a great newfound appreciation for your patience.”
“Well, then, it’s worth it.”
Some assistant costumer switched out Dawson’s hats, and they rolled one more time before Bert called it.
“Thank you, everyone. Amazing day. Get some rest. We have a few shots to do tomorrow, Seamus, and then I’ll have all I need. Great work. Dawson, thank you for indulging us.”
Seamus grinned. “Thanks, Bert. Okay, Dawes. Run before he changes his mind.”
Dawson took his hand, they pelted off, Nick calling, “I’ll get those burgers going. You have half an hour.”
“Plenty of time to share a shower.” Seamus was all about washing off the day and getting a little Dawson admiration in.
“I’m in.” Dawson squeezed his hand, and Seamus could truthfully assert he’d never been happier on a damn movie set in his whole life.