Page 33 of Keeping Zita

Zita smiled at him. Jeez, he was a good man.

She hated when his hand left her hair as she sat back in her seat. Then she reached for the door handle. She felt as if she was floating as she walked to her door. After unlocking it, she looked back at the car. Sage hadn’t pulled away yet, was watching to make sure she got inside safely.

She gave him a little wave, then forced herself to close and bolt the door instead of walking back to the Jeep and inviting him into her room. It was too soon for that, and she was enjoying getting to know him little by little.

But there was no doubt the two of them had explosive chemistry. She couldn’t see the future, but she hoped he didn’t do or say anything that would prove everything he’d shared with her so far was a farce. That he wasn’t as genuine as he seemed.

Smiling, Zita dropped her purse on the floor and headed to the bathroom. It was late, much later than she usually went to bed, and morning would come very early. She needed to get some sleep, but even after she’d changed, brushed her teeth, and gotten into bed, the events of the night replayed in her mind.

She could only hope that Carmen wouldn’t be a bitch for the rest of the shoot. It would make things extremely uncomfortable, but Zita wasn’t going to apologize for something Carmen had brought on herself.

It wasn’t too much longer before Zita finally fell asleep, with the memory of Sage’s lips on hers running through her head.

CHAPTER NINE

The bitch wasn’t going to let it go.

Obi-Wan sighed. He’d hoped Carmen would’ve gotten the clue that he wasn’t interested in anything she had to offer.

And yet, the morning after the incident at Anchor Point, she’d greeted him on set as if she hadn’t been kicked out of the bar after her advances toward him were turned down flat. Hell, he’d told her their get-together was a private thing, and she’d totally ignored him.

Not only that, she seemed more determined than ever to “win” him. Which was a joke, because he wasn’t a fucking prize in one of those claw machines. She didn’t get to decide that he would be her next lay and expect to have him just materialize in her bed as if by magic.

The movie set that used to be an exciting change of pace for Obi-Wan was quickly turning into something he dreaded. And that sucked.

Of course, seeing Zita was a bright spot. And honestly, he still enjoyed what he was doing. Using his expertise to fine-tune the military wardrobe and lingo, and point out things that were just blatantly wrong regarding the helicopters. Obi-Wan was impressed that Grubbner actually took what he said seriously. It was nice to see the man was truly interested in making everything authentic.

The situation with Carmen was why he was looking forward to the next phase of the film. In a week, the entire operation would be moving to the western side of the state to film the bulk of the scenes with Logan Striker. It would take a full week for the transition itself. For the entire production to relocate to the new location, and for the staff and crew to get everything ready for filming again. Obi-Wan was thrilled…as Carmen wouldn’t be accompanying the production. Her scenes in Virginia were almost complete, so she’d be returning to Hollywood.

But with the looming change in venue, it seemed Carmen was doubling down on her efforts to get him into bed. Everywhere Obi-Wan went, she was there. Sidling up to him, touching him, fucking petting him as if he were a dog she could bring to heel.

He was done trying to be subtle about not wanting anything to do with her. In the last few days, he’d told the actress more than once that he wasn’t interested and to please keep her hands to herself. Even flat-out insisting he wasn’t attracted to her. All to no avail.

To make matters worse, Zita had been keeping her distance from them both. She claimed it was to keep the peace on set. To avoid making any waves. And that irritated Obi-Wan most of all, because all he wanted was to talk to her, to be near her, to get to know her better.

It had been five days since their night at Anchor Point, and Obi-Wan hadn’t been able to talk to her long enough to plan the Star Wars date they’d discussed. It wasn’t about the movies, although they were awesome, it was about his eagerness to spend more one-on-one time with the woman he couldn’t get out of his mind.

They had each other’s phone number and texted every night, but those conversations were brief and impersonal, and he hadn’t found an appropriate time to bring up when they could get together again. For a man who preferred to be the pursuer, he was doing a piss-poor job of it. He needed to get his head out of his ass and go after what he wanted—Zita.

This morning, he’d arrived on set only to be immediately accosted by Carmen yet again. As if she’d been waiting for him—which she probably had. He had his usual second cup of coffee for Zita, and he was determined to get it to her while it was still hot. There were a couple of mornings this week when either he or she had been busy, and by the time they managed to have a second to speak, her coffee was lukewarm or even cold.

As usual, Carmen’s bodyguard was hovering not too far from her as she walked toward him with a huge smile on her face. She was in the same dress she’d worn for most of her recent scenes, a modest, navy-blue cotton sheath that went down to her knees, which he’d heard her complain about more than once. She thought it was ugly, plain, and too constricting. In Obi-Wan’s opinion, it was classy, making her look exactly as a pilot’s wife should—respectable.

“Good morning,” she purred as she approached.

“Carmen,” Obi-Wan said with a nod, barely keeping his temper in check. Now that Casper and Laryn’s secret was out, the stress level Casper had been feeling was reduced, but PT hadn’t gotten any easier. This morning, they’d run a half marathon, with the last half being in the sand, which sucked big time. Running in the sand was one of Obi-Wan’s least favorite things. It was a great workout, but that didn’t mean he liked it.

He was also late getting to the set because he’d witnessed an accident on the way in, and had stopped like the responsible citizen he was to give a statement to the police.

“Guess what today is!” she said perkily.

Obi-Wan took a sip of his own coffee and didn’t respond, wishing she’d get on with whatever she wanted to say so he could be on his way.

“It’s my last day of filming! And there’s going to be a party for me around three. I know you usually leave around lunchtime, but I thought you could make an exception today and stay to celebrate with me.”

“Can’t, sorry,” Obi-Wan said. “I have to work.”

Carmen pouted. “But I was hoping we could go out afterward.”