The one thing he did know was that he was going to have to face Des head-on and not let this fester. He was already miserable, and no doubt she was pissed as hell at him.
And rightly so.
He got out of his truck and went back to the gate. The guards there knew him well by now, so they just let him through. He made his way to her trailer and knocked.
She opened the door, frowning when she saw him. “What? Did you think of a few more unsavory things to say about my character?”
“No. I came to apologize.”
She paused, then held the door. “Come on in.”
He walked in and shut the door behind him. Des had already walked away. She was in the kitchen, trying to open a bottle of wine.
“Here, let me do that for you.”
She gave him a “drop dead” look. Undeterred, he took the corkscrew and bottle from her hands and pulled the cork, then poured her a glass and handed it to her. She took the glass and headed into the living room and took a seat.
She didn’t invite him to sit. He didn’t deserve it. He came in and kneeled down in front of her.
“You make me crazy. I do stupid things. I saw you and Colt holding each other tight and kissing, and it does insane things to my head.”
She looked at him. “Colt and I are just friends. You know this.”
“I know. But when you wouldn’t elaborate, my head conjured up the two of you having secrets, excluding me from that part of your life. I don’t like it. I know it’s not logical, but I don’t like it.”
She sighed and put the glass down on the table next to her. “They’re not my secrets to tell. If it has to do with my life, I’m an open book. Ask any question and I’ll answer you. But as far as Colt’s life . . .”
“I understand. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I even intimated for a minute that I didn’t trust you.” He laid his forehead on her knee. “I’m an as**ole sometimes, and I wish there was someone else to blame for that, but there isn’t. This is all on me.”
“You did hurt me. You’ve known from the beginning that I’m going to be honest with you, Logan. But as far as this? There are just things I can’t tell you. Because when a friend needs you to be there for them, sometimes you have to hold their secrets.”
He lifted his head to look at her, and he could see she was torn. “I’m sorry I made you feel as if you had to be in the middle between me and Colt. You don’t have to be.”
“He’s like a brother to me, and I know that sounds icky since we do love scenes together. But we are really good friends. We’re family. I love him, but not in the way—”
She stopped, and he held his breath. She stared at him for a few seconds, and he didn’t know what to think.
“Not in a sexual way. Like with you. Our sex scenes are the real deal.” Her lips curved.
And not at all what he thought she was going to say. “Right. So am I forgiven? Again?”
“Yes.”
He rose up and brushed his lips across hers, then pulled her into his arms, dragging her on top of him onto the floor. The sweet forgiveness in her kiss was soon replaced by passion. Clothes were shed, Des grabbed a condom, and then she was on top of him, riding him to a hard and fast orgasm that left them both shattered, breathless, and perspiring.
They lay there na**d, Des sprawled on top of him while he stroked her back.
“This floor sucks,” he said.
Des laughed and climbed off him. They went into the bathroom to clean up and got dressed while Des fixed him a drink.
He pulled up a spot next to her on the sofa while she grabbed her wine.
“An open book, huh?” he asked as he took a sip of the pop she’d given him.
She frowned. “What?”
“You said earlier you were an open book. That I could just ask you any question and you’d answer it.”
“Oh, right. That’s true. So what do you want to know?”
“We’ve talked a lot about my family. Tell me about yours.”
Des blew out a breath. “Oh. My family. Well, not much to tell, really. My dad is career army. My mom has been a stay-at-home mom her whole life in support of my dad’s military endeavors. I have one older brother and one older sister. My brother went ROTC, then West Point, following in my father’s footsteps. My sister is a biologist.”
“So you’re the odd duck.”
She laughed. “Yes.”
“Is your dad still in the military?”
“Yes. Currently stationed at Fort Benning in Georgia. He’s a one-star general, with hopes to continue to move up the ladder.”
“And what does your mom do?”
“All that stuff military wives do. I don’t really know. She stays busy with all her social engagements. She’s very dedicated to my father’s military career. And my brother’s now, too.”
“How did your parents feel about you becoming an actress?”
She remembered the day she told them she wanted to be an actress, the horror on both their faces. “Both were dead set against it. My father wanted me to go to school to become a doctor.”
“Had you expressed interest in being a doctor?”
“Never. I actually laughed when he said it. You do not laugh at my father. Our discussion didn’t go well.”
“But if it wasn’t what you wanted to do, why would he be upset?”
“You don’t understand. You just don’t disagree with General Delbert Jenkins.”
He smoothed his hand over her legs. “It wasn’t General Jenkins talking to you, then, though. It was your dad.”
“Yeah, well, tell him that. Anyway, I was terrible at both math and science, but he said there was nothing a Jenkins couldn’t do and that I simply wasn’t applying myself hard enough. That’s when I told him I wanted to be an actress. He really exploded then. He told me that was the worst career choice I could ever make.”
“Obviously, it wasn’t.”
“In hindsight, no. But at the time, it broke my heart. I had just gotten the lead in the school play and I was so thrilled. I wanted them to share my joy.”
“And your mom? What did she say?”
“Nothing. She sat silently next to my dad. She was always on his side, agreeing with whatever he said.”
“I’m sorry.”
She met his gaze. “For what?”
“I know what it’s like to not have parents on your side. Though at least I had my dad. It sounds to me like you were swimming upstream.”
She shrugged. “I got used to it. He’d yell and insist, and I’d ignore him. I didn’t even apply to any colleges, despite my father’s vehement, very loud, very often orders that I do so. When I graduated from high school, I packed a bag and took a bus out to Hollywood. My parents never forgave me for that.”
“You talk to them now, don’t you?”
“They’re happy for my success, but let’s just say our relationship is . . . strained.”
“Yeah, I know how that is.” He leaned his head against his hand and played with a strand of her hair. “How about your brother and sister?”
“Teddy toes the army line, so I don’t talk to him much. He’s moving up the military ladder fast. Penelope and I touch base every now and then. She’s as busy as I am, and she’s deeply involved in biological research. But we do Skype, and she’ll come out to L.A. and visit when she has a break. I’ll visit her, and my parents, whenever I’m on a break from a movie.”
“It doesn’t sound like you’re really all that close with any of your family members, Des.”
She shrugged. “It is what it is. Probably out of all of them, I’m closest with Penny. But like I said, she’s really busy doing research.”
“Maybe you should talk to her about taking a vacation, too.”
She laughed. “I probably should. Though I think she’s less likely to take one than I am.”
“A family trait, maybe?”
“Could be.”
“Families can be the hardest on those they love the most, Des.”
She nodded. “I don’t doubt for a second that my parents love me. My dad just has tunnel vision. He had this very rigid upbringing. His father was military, too. He only knows one way, and that’s his way. He brought that regimented military lifestyle into the home.”
“And you rebelled against it.”
She smiled. “I guess I did.”
“Do you think that’s why you decided to become an actress?”
She frowned. “You mean as an act of rebellion against my father? No. I really did fall in love with the craft. The rebellion part was just a bonus.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I had that part down, too. Parents can’t have all the fun torturing their kids. There has to be some payback.”
“Like hiding your mom’s makeup?”
“Like that. Among other things. She was so fussy she made it too easy.”
“And my dad was so rigid, it was easy to get him riled up.”
“Our kids will never have a chance. We’re too laid-back.”
She nodded. “Exactly. Plus, we know all the tricks.”
“Yeah, and everyone says this, but their kids still find a way.”
“True. Still, I’d like to think I’m smarter than my kids will be, and a lot more Zen than my parents ever were about the little things. Like career. As long as they’re happy, what does it matter what they want to do?”
“And getting dirty. Because aren’t all kids supposed to get mud on their clothes?” he asked.
“I think so. We’re going to be perfect parents.”
He grinned at her, and she realized they were sitting there talking about their children. Children they weren’t going to have together. But, oh, they’d have great kids. Wild little hellions who could ride horses as soon as they were old enough to be put on one. And the kids would put on plays for them in Logan’s big living room. The two of them would sit on the sofa and watch them, clapping when they finished.
It was a wild, ridiculous fantasy. One that would never come to fruition, because she and Logan were going to part ways as soon as the movie finished.
But it was a fun fantasy, because so far in her life all she’d seen in her future was movie on top of movie. Never a home, never kids.
Until now.
And she liked what she saw. She wanted that future. She ached for it so much it shocked her.
“You sure went quiet. Did that whole talking-about-kids thing freak you out?” he asked.
“Actually, no.” She picked up her wine and took a sip.
“Care to elaborate?”
“Actually, no.” She smiled at him over the rim of her glass. “Did it freak you out?”
“No. I’m older than you, though.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s time I start thinking about settling down and having kids.”
“I don’t believe how old you are has much to do with when it’s the right time to start a family. Many people never have kids. Some have them way early, some not at all. My sister is committed to never having children.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “She doesn’t see herself as a parent—ever. Which is fine, because that’s her choice to make. She’s perfectly content to build a career. She says if she ever finds someone to marry, he’ll have to accept that she doesn’t want children.”
“I guess you’re right. I’ve known a few people—and some couples—who decided not to have kids. It comes down to a matter of choice for everyone. For me, it’s a legacy thing. I want to have someone to pass down my ownership in the ranch to.”
“There are your brothers.”
“That’s true. And they might have children who want to be a part of the ranching business. Nothing would make me happier.”
“Because your kids might want to be—oh, I don’t know . . .” She studied him for a few minutes.
He laughed. “What?”
“Fashion models. Or maybe sell cosmetics.”
He cocked a brow. “Now you’re assuming I’m going to have all girls.”
“What? Guys can’t become fashion models or sell cosmetics? Very sexist of you, McCormack.”
“Fine. My kids can do whatever the hell they want. Even become an actor or an actress. I just hope either one of my kids, or Luke’s or Reid’s, wants to be a damn rancher.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a rancher. If one of my kids wanted to do that, I’d be so proud of them.”
He gave her a searing look. “Seriously.”
“Of course. It’s a tough job, but an admirable one. Look at how hard you work. And look at the results. You’re building a legacy for your heirs—and for your brothers’ heirs, too. Not many people are tough enough to take that on. Who wouldn’t be proud to have their children be a part of that legacy?”
He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her very thoroughly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I should go and let you get some sleep. I’m sure you have a big day tomorrow, and so do I.”
She stood and walked him to the door. She wanted him to stay, but they had gone through some heavy subject matter tonight. Her background, and having kids. Legacies. Their futures, both of them avoiding the topic of melding those futures together.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, pulling her against him to give her one last, barn-burning kiss that made her regret letting him leave.