I don’t think I’ve ever seen Blake so uncomfortable.
“No, I’m good.” I give him a breezy smile. Now who’s the actor? I deserve an Oscar for this performance, but it seems to do the trick. Blake exhales.
“Great.” He stops. “I didn’t mean— Sorry, I’m still thinking about the scene. We’re just setting up to go again,” he adds, gesturing to where the crew are carefully moving the camera and sound equipment back into place.
I linger. Part of me wants to go hide away with a carton of ice cream and mourn the fact that kissing me is so damn forgettable, but part of me wants to learn more about the movie.
Curiosity wins.
“This might be a stupid question,” I ask hesitantly, “but why do you need to reshoot if you got the take right the first time?”
“It’s not a stupid question.” Blake doesn’t seem annoyed. “Directors always shoot the same scene from different angles, so they can cut them together in the final movie. In this one, Dash was focused on Lila’s character,” he explains, “getting all her expressions, the things she was doing. Next time, he’ll do the same with me. Then, in the editing suite, he’ll be able to switch between them, so the audience can see both sides of our conversation.”
“I get it,” I nod. It’s fascinating how much goes on behind the scenes.
“Plus, Dash likes to push us to play it differently every time,” Blake adds.
“You mean like next take, you could be more vulnerable?” I suggest, before I can stop myself. “Shit, I’m sorry,” I apologize quickly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s OK. What do you mean?” Blake looks curious.
I flush. “Well, in the script, your character says how it’s your first summer alone. You’re playing it kind of charming right now, like you’re making fun of yourself. But…I don’t know, when I read it, I thought he was being sincere. I thought it was a nice moment.”
Blake looks thoughtful. “I like that,” he nods, glancing down at the new script pages.
I sneak a glance as he reads. The wardrobe department has outdone themselves today. The sky blue of his T-shirt is the exact same color of his eyes, and somehow, the soft cotton hugs every muscle of his abs, just begging to be touched.
I clench my hands into fists at my sides. Down, girl!
Blake is frowning.
“Is there a problem?” I ask.
He doesn’t reply, instead calling across to Dash. “Since when does my character ride horses?”
“Since I had a breakthrough.” Dash grins, strolling over. “You at the ranch, a whole montage, rugged man and nature shit. Why?”
“I’ve never been on a horse before in my life.” Blake looks grim. “Can we work around? Maybe I just carry some hay bales or something?”
“No, no, that won’t work.” Dash looks distressed now. “I had the whole sequence planned. Wide shot, tracking you as you gallop across the field?”
“Sorry, man, but it’s not going to look so rugged when I fall flat on my ass.” Blake gives a rueful shrug.
“I can teach you.”
The words are out of my mouth before I realize what I’m saying. They both turn.
“I didn’t know you could ride.” Blake looks surprised.
“Boarding school,” I shrug. “They packed us off every weekend. I can’t do much on short notice,” I add to Dash, my mind racing. “But we could do the basics. Make sure he seems comfortable, at least.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” Dash grins, then sweeps me up in a hug. He sets me down, that boyish enthusiasm back all over again. “You guys spend tomorrow working it out. There’s a ranch here in town that’s letting us film, you can do it there. Now, where’s Lila?” he bounces to the next subject, looking around. “Lila, darlin’? Where’s my gorgeous girl?”
Dash strides away, leaving me with Blake. “You think an afternoon lesson is enough to pass?” he asks, looking dubious.
I smile. Anything that forces us to spend more time together is just fine with me. “Have a little faith,” I tell him, grinning. “One afternoon could change everything.”
The next morning, bright and early, my confidence isn’t burning so hot.
“Try not to look scared,” I call across to Blake. He’s mounted on a gentle mare, walking slowly around the paddock, but still, he looks totally tense and terrified. “Relax,” I urge him, sitting up on the fence. “They can smell fear.”
“Really?” He grips the reins tighter.
I laugh. “No, but the camera can. Come on, she’s like, eighty years old. You can loosen your grip a little, she’s not going to bolt.”
Blake gingerly releases the reins an inch. “Good,” I say encouragingly. “Now, sit up a little straighter, and try to move with the motion of her strides. That’s it!”
Blake’s horse walks slowly in another circle.
“Wow, he’s really bad at this.”
There’s laughter behind me. I turn. Tegan is walking down from the main ranch house with another girl. “You remember Brit, right?” she asks. “Ryland’s sister. You guys met at the party.”
“Hey.” I smile at Tegan’s future sister-in-law. “Good to see you again. You live here, right? Thanks for letting us take over for the filming.”