Chapter Five
The sound of bubbles and the rhythm of his breath quelled Ethan’s antsy mood as he swum steady laps of his pool. It was day two of filming, the day he would meet his canine co-star, and every one of his nerves was on high alert. He popped his head above the water to check on Harry, who was snoozing on a cushion in the sunlight.
Hazel would be here soon. It was her first day and he was already having to force himself to forget the dream he’d had about her last night – their long legs tangled in his sheets, their bodies pressed together, his mouth crushed to hers…
‘Fuck.’ Water sprayed from his lips. He leaned his elbows on the edge of the pool and gazed out at the ocean, remembering the colour of Hazel’s eyes. He’d have to find a house by the beach when he moved to Los Angeles; he couldn’t imagine being stuck up in the Hollywood Hills. After two years of begging from his agent, Ethan had finally given in and agreed to move to LA once he wrapped this movie. She said it would open up opportunities for him, and as much as he didn’t want to live in Hollywood, it felt like the right time, for both his career and his heart. If he was ever going to be Sera’s friend and not the guy wishing for more, putting a bit of distance between them wouldn’t be a bad thing.
He pushed out of the pool, then grabbed his towel and padded into the house, roughly drying his hair. He’d just placed an espresso cup under the coffee machine when the doorbell rang. He frowned; Hazel wasn’t due to pick Harry up for another thirty-five minutes. It was probably a script change being dropped off by the production office.
Tossing his towel out onto the deck, he dripped across the cool, marble floor and swung open the front door, expecting to find a package on his doorstep. Instead, he found Hazel standing before him.
Ethan’s heart did a leap worthy of a thirteen-year-old meeting a girl for a first date.
‘Oh.’ Her eyes darted away. ‘I’m sorry. I’m early,’
He glanced down at his bare chest, at his wet boardshorts, which had ridden up his thighs, sticking to him like cling wrap.
‘I just got out of the pool.’ Obviously. He spun around, cringing. ‘Come on in,’ he called over his shoulder, side-stepping Harry, who was sleepily making his way towards Hazel with a wagging tail.
‘That’s Harry,’ he said. ‘I was about to have a coffee. Can I get you one? Tea? Water? Smoothie? Juice? Anything?’
He cringed again, and grabbed his T-shirt, dragging it over his head. It covered his bare chest okay but didn’t go much past his hips, and certainly didn’t cover the boardshorts still very obviously moulding themselves to areas he wished they wouldn’t. He tugged on the shorts subtly, trying to loosen their hold.
Hazel hadn’t been mentally prepared to see that much of the movie star. The guy had answered the door with his boardshorts stuck everywhere and was now standing in front of the coffee machine adjusting himself. She took a quick glance, then averted her eyes just as quickly. She should not be watching that.
Hazel reached down and scratched Harry’s head. ‘How’s it going, little guy?’ The terrier nuzzled into her palm.
‘Thanks for agreeing to come onboard so quickly,’ Ethan said. ‘Sorry for messing you around. Obviously the person we went with didn’t pan out. He tried to get me to read a script he’d written – wasn’t there for Harry at all.’ He eyed her shrewdly. ‘You’re not going to hand me a script, are you?’
‘God no. I have no interest the film industry. I might hand you a cupcake, but I usually save those for…’ She nearly said, ‘people I like,’ but went with, ‘Friends.’
‘Well, cupcakes would be gladly accepted if I ever meet your criteria.’
He tossed her a dazzling smile, his all-caps blue eyes sparkling. Hazel’s eyebrows gathered and she swiftly turned towards the window, taking in the view out over the pool to the beach.
‘I used to bring a couple of dogs to this beach,’ she said. ‘I’ve always wondered who lived in these massive houses. Now I guess I know.’
‘It’s a rental,’ his voice rumbled from behind her.
‘For you and your…?’ The house was huge. He had to be travelling with an entourage, or a hot model, or an entourage of hot models. Probably a team of stylists to groom his scruff.
‘For me and Harry.’ There was a chuckle in his voice.
‘It’s just you and your dog here?’ She stared at the entertaining area backing onto the pool and its table for – she did a quick count – twelve.
‘Yup. Apparently us movie stars need at least four bathrooms to survive.’
Hazel snorted. ‘That seems excessive.’
‘I don’t disagree.’
He pushed back his wet hair, his bicep looking as if it was about to burst from the sleeve of his T-shirt. The guy was a lot.
‘Do you think we’re going to work out?’ he asked, another smile twitching. ‘I mean, you and Harry really, I guess.’
‘Me and Harry,’ she ruffled the dog’s head, ‘will get on great.’
Ethan nodded, his eyes practically pinning her to the glass doors behind her.
‘And you don’t think Harry will be a problem for your demon-spawn hell cat?’ His smile widened into a grin. She couldn’t take her eyes off the gorgeous, black marble kitchen island he was leaning on. It looked to be about three metres long – it would be amazing for food prep, she found herself thinking. She was dying to run her hand across it and feel its smooth, hard coolness against her skin. She dragged her gaze from the glistening marble.
‘I shouldn’t have said that about my cat,’ she answered. ‘I doubt he’ll even acknowledge Harry. Kevin is impervious to everyone and everything.’
‘Your cat’s named Kevin? I knew a dog called Kevin once. Biggest beast I’d ever seen. I was supposed to be walking him, but he ended up dragging me at a full run, fully clothed, into a lake.’ He chuckled.
Hazel was disturbed by how quickly her mind pulled together an image of him standing in a lake, fully clothed, dripping wet from head to toe, and how long she lingered on it. She chastised herself, angrily shaking the image away. Sure, he was handsome, but he was obviously all ego and flash.
‘My Kevin was found in an empty apartment in my block when he was a kitten,’ she said, I named him after the character in Home Alone – you know, the Christmas movie where the kid gets left behind. I’ve always wondered if being abandoned is why he’s so cranky or if he was just born a jerk.’
Ethan laughed. ‘I really like the sound of your cat. I look forward to meeting him.’ He grinned so wide it reached all the way to his eyes, and something deep inside Hazel fluttered. She frowned, wondering if the Mexican takeaway she’d had the night before had given her indigestion.
Ethan had never found eyebrows sexy before, but Hazel’s were strangely alluring. With every frown she cast his way, he found her more attractive.
‘I hope I didn’t throw out your schedule by arriving early,’ she said. ‘I want to get Harry to the beach before there are too many people and other dogs around; I don’t want him stressed on our first time out.’
As she spoke, she grabbed a hair tie from her wrist and pulled her pink-tipped blonde hair into a high ponytail. Her top rose up with the movement, revealing a band of creamy skin at her midsection.
Ethan’s gaze automatically dipped to the soft flesh at her slender waist, then flitted up and down her willowy frame. She wore a tight white tank top over a pink and white checked bikini, and dark denim shorts which showed off her long legs. He sucked in a sharp breath. Why, why hadn’t Cash worked out?
‘I might come to the beach with you,’ he heard himself say. Where the hell had that come from? He’d wanted to do a weights session before his driver picked him up.
She was staring at him, dark brows drawn together. He should change his mind. He should tell her he made a mistake.
‘I thought you had to work?’ she said.
‘I’ve got a bit of time.’ So much for changing his mind. ‘And, ah…’ He scrambled. ‘I’d like to make sure Harry settles in with you. Is that okay?’
‘Whatever makes you more comfortable. Can we cut through your yard?’ She clipped a leash to Harry’s collar.
‘Yep,’ Ethan said, and as she walked past him, her ponytail swishing, he breathed in a waft of coconut-scented sunscreen and a hint of irritation.
Harry charged across the beach, his little legs skimming over the sand. Hazel dashed after him, catching up at the edge of the surf.
‘Do you want to go in?’ she asked the dog. He looked up at her and wagged his tail.
She dropped her backpack, slipped out of her shorts and tank top and splashed into the shallows, calling for him to follow. Ethan deciding to tag along had utterly thrown her. She’d never had an owner want to monitor her first day with their dog. He obviously didn’t trust her – if he did, he’d have given her the job in the first place, instead of the scriptwriting guy. She hated to admit it, but Ethan made her jittery. He was too much. That smile of his – and its accompanying dimples – was practically a weapon, delivering a full-on sensory assault every time he brought it out. Which was constantly. It was as if he was so used to being in actor mode, he’d forgotten how to be around ordinary people. As if he couldn’t find his off switch.
She glanced back towards the beach and froze, her jaw slackening. Ethan was tugging his T-shirt over his head. His hips poked above the waistband of his low-slung, still clinging boardshorts and his abs were rippling in a pack that had to contain more than six. At the front door she’d looked away so fast, all she’d seen was a blur of sun-kissed skin. Now she was getting the complete chest and guns show, and it seemed to be happening in slow motion.
He smiled when he caught her eye, and she quickly dropped to the shallows and lay back, ducking into the water. When she resurfaced he was right in front of her, his tall form blocking out the sun. Her eyes travelled up his body until they reached his face. He dropped beside her with a splash, his knee nudging hers below the surface. She shuffled her butt across the sand to put a bit of space between them.
They sat in silence with their backs to the gentle swell, water up to their waists and their feet towards the beach, eyeing Harry as he splashed along the shoreline.
‘Are you concerned that I’m not going to take proper care of Harry?’ Hazel asked. ‘Because if you’re here to check up on me, I promise you don’t have to. I will take excellent care of him.’
‘I’m not checking up on you,’ he said. ‘I had a bit of time, and I’d been planning on going for a swim anyway.’
‘Hadn’t you just been for one?’
‘Right. Yeah. Of course. But, you know, um, one in the surf.’ He sounded so awkward she turned and stared. His head was tilted back, his eyes squeezed shut, and there was a wrinkle across the bridge of his nose.
‘I just assumed that because you didn’t give me the job upfront,’ she said, ‘there must be something to make you doubt me. I want to put your mind at ease.’
‘I don’t doubt you,’ he said, ‘I just made a bad call. It was all on me. I’m happy to have you taking care of Harry.’
They were silent again as the gentle waves frothed around them.
‘So you’re a chef, huh?’ Ethan asked suddenly. ‘Guess that explains the cupcake tattoo.’ He nodded at her shoulder.
‘I was into baking at the time,’ she said.
‘Lucky you weren’t into barbecues or you might have ended up with a string of sausages on your arm.’ He laughed, then cleared his throat uncomfortably when she didn’t join in. ‘What else do you cook?’
He was staring at her with expectant eyes, their vivid blue the exact same shade as the sky above them. She dropped her gaze to the water, taking in their long legs beneath its rippling surface, hers pale, his golden.
‘I cook everything,’ she said. ‘Or at least, I used to. I haven’t been cooking lately. I haven’t been in the mood. But if I had to pick the food I enjoy cooking the most, it would be Italian. I love making simple food, like fresh spaghetti with homemade sauce. Rich and thick, stuffed with plump tomatoes, fragrant herbs and just enough chilli to give it a little heat. Absolutely delicious, but also satisfying and comforting. That’s what food should be. It shouldn’t just fill our stomachs; it should fill our hearts and our souls.’
Hazel stopped. What was she doing? She’d been avoiding talking about cooking, even with her sister, because it hurt too much. She didn’t want to think about the fact that she was consumed by loss and failure every time she stepped into the kitchen. Or that she was terrified cooking would never light her up again like it once did, all because some arsehole ruined it for her. Yet here she was, blurting everything out to the movie star, telling him how cooking made her feel.
She turned to Ethan, who was staring at her with parted lips. Then his brows lifted and he blinked, as if coming back to life.
‘Okay, wow. I would like to eat that right now, please. Not that I expect you to cook for me,’ he quickly added. ‘That’s definitely not in your job description. Harry, on the other hand, would absolutely appreciate some pasta.’ He chuckled, his abs rippling as he laughed.
Hazel just stared. He was so perfect it was ridiculous. It was as if he’d been 3D printed, or created by AI. Maybe that was it. Maybe he wasn’t actually real.
‘What’s your favourite food?’ she asked the Ethan-bot sitting beside her.
‘Whatever the crafties feed me on set or the hotel delivers.’ He launched another dimple attack.
Of course he’d have people serving him, she thought. He was probably used to people waiting on him 24/7.
‘So, you don’t cook for yourself?’ She ignored the dimples.
‘Sometimes I do. Just not that often. I live on my own, and I don’t find cooking for one much fun.’ He casually shook his hair, water droplets glistening in the sunshine. Hazel wanted to say, ‘Come on guy, dial it down.’ But she had a feeling he was always operating at ten. Possibly eleven.
‘The last time I cooked for someone other than myself,’ he said, ‘I made mushroom risotto. The risotto turned out great. The relationship not so much.’ His brows knitted. ‘Actually, that’s not true. Sera helped me prep for my last movie. She taught me about working with dogs. She’s how I found Harry; he was living at the animal shelter she owns. We’re good friends now. I’d just been hoping for more and thought she was too, so I was caught off guard when she ended up dating her best friend.’
Hazel side-eyed him. That was a bizarrely personal thing to tell someone he’d only just met. She wasn’t sure how to respond. Or even if she should.
‘Risotto isn’t easy,’ she said eventually, unsure how to unpack the rest of what he’d just shared. ‘The balance between rice and moisture has to be perfect or you wind up with gluggy rice soup.’
‘I’m pretty good at it, if I do say so myself.’ He tossed her another perfect grin and moved to get up. ‘Anyway, as much as I’d rather stay here, I need to go. I don’t want to be one of those actors. Always late, holding up shooting, behaving like a diva.’ His eyes travelled over her face. ‘I’m not one of those actors, by the way, and I’m never late.’
‘Okay,’ she said. He nodded, as if satisfied that she’d understood him. ‘Well, have a good day,’ she added, relieved he was finally leaving. He put her on edge.
‘I don’t know how good it will be,’ he said. ‘I meet my new dog co-star today, so it could be a complete disaster.’ Standing, he rubbed the back of one arm, ridges darkening his brow, then pushed out of the water and smiled down at her. ‘Sorry to have crashed your first walk with Harry,’ he said. ‘I promise I wasn’t checking you out… er, checking up on you.’ He squinted one eye. She blinked up at him twice. ‘You’d better grab Harry,’ he added quickly. ‘In case he follows me.’
Hazel scooched forward and silently pulled Harry onto her lap, hugging the soggy dog to her chest.
She watched Ethan walking away, his T-shirt gripped tightly in his fist and his broad back sparkling with water droplets, their glisten highlighting every bunching muscle. He turned and gave Hazel and Harry a big wave, his smile so bright it could probably be seen from space, then he put his head down and sprinted effortlessly up the soft sand.