RED LINES by T.A. Foster
Love on remote Perry Island was one thing, but with the flash of a camera everything has changed.
Movie star Evan Carlson has just landed the role of a lifetime, playing the infamous Dexter Red. Fans can't get enough of the sexiest, most-talked-about guy to ever hit paperback pages.
Haven is in Austin working on her songwriting career, and Evan's faith and commitment are put to the test. No matter which way he turns, Hollywood keeps getting in the way.
Does realizing their career dreams mean losing their relationship? Can they survive the headlines and media frenzy surrounding Evan's new role?
When it comes to love, some lines are meant to be blurred.
The air was cool against Evan’s chest. One of the crewmembers spritzed him with water along his back. He felt the droplets collect against his spine. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay propped up like this. Yesterday, he had lifted more than he had in six months, and his shoulders were killing him. Jake had been relentless keeping him in shape. Not to mention the grueling lecture on his summer beer consumption. It seemed as if the trainer enjoyed teaching him a lesson.
He had been on the set for two weeks, and it still didn’t feel natural. He was resistant to Dex’s character.
“Is this really necessary?” he asked. He was already tired of everyone pawing at him. Someone else was adjusting the sheet around his waist, draping it just below his hipbone. He felt more exposed.
“Oh, Evan, why are you making such a fuss? I’m the one they are going to see topless.” Emmy giggled underneath him, her blond hair splayed along red satin pillows.
“Glad you think it’s all funny.” He waited while his hair was ruffled.
“I can do that, honey.” Emmy spoke to the girl messing with his hair, dismissing her on the spot. She reached up and let her fingers tousle his sandy brown locks. “You look good with this sexed up look. Although, I would have oiled you some, not just watered you down.”
“Em, this is getting crazy.” They had been in this position for at least fifteen minutes, waiting to start the first sex scene of the movie. They had already been through all of the office scenes. It was time to hit the bedroom.
“Why? Because we’re in bed with fifty people watching?” She smiled slyly. “Just pretend it’s us in Cabo.” She squirmed underneath him, and he inhaled sharply as he felt her leg brush against his. “You do remember Cabo, don’t you?”
He hung his head. “Of course I remember that weekend.” He quickly brought his eyes back to hers; he was determined not to check out her perfectly perky breasts.
“Then why can’t you act like it’s that weekend? You and me—a few margaritas. I don’t think we ever left the room, did we? There was no reason to leave.” He was worried her leg had started to move more intentionally.
“You know why we can’t go there.” He tried to roll to the side, but if he did, he would take the sheet and everyone would see just how naked Emmy was. The gentleman in him couldn’t do that to her.
Her eyes raked over his chest. “You don’t think we’re already back there?”
“This is work.” He huffed. “It’s different.”
“I don’t think you and I can ever be different,” she whispered.
Before he could argue about why Cabo was in the past, the lights around them dimmed and a boom mic lowered over their heads.
“Action!” Archie Preston called. “Wait! Where are the handcuffs? I don’t see them or the vibrator on the nightstand. Come on, people. The first scene in the bedroom and you forget the props?”
As usual, Archie was fuming at his crew. If nothing else, the director was a perfectionist.
In an instant, an array of sex toys was deposited next to them. Evan tried to look at them as if they were his usual props like a gun or a high-tech spy watch, not something that was intended to make his co-star writhe in pleasure.
He tried to clear his head. This was not Emmy under him. It was Karina and he was Dexter. He stared into her eyes and started his lines, only this time Emmy was moaning, her chest was heaving, and she wrapped a leg around his waist.
By the time the scene wrapped, Evan was exhausted. He didn’t want to admit it was from fighting back physical sensations that kept surfacing. A crew girl brought white terry cloth robes so he and Emmy could make it back to their trailers completely covered. It was enough that everyone had just seen him handcuff her and lick every part of her body.
He slouched on the couch of his trailer. That was just the beginning, scene one. What had he done by agreeing to this movie? He opened a bottle of water and chugged it.
His phone rang on the table and he picked it up.
“Hey, you. How’s it going? I can’t believe I caught you.” Haven sounded happy. “I never get you on the phone in the middle of the day.”
“Yeah, we just wrapped up a scene, and I’m taking a break. Maybe a nap.” He looked at the couch, knowing his legs would dangle over the end but not caring.
“I have some news.”
“What’s going on?” Her calls were his favorite part of the day. They didn’t happen nearly enough. Some days he was lucky if they answered texts within an hour of each other.
“Carly’s going out on the road for a spontaneous mini-tour. We just finished five more songs, so she thought I should take some time off.”
“Really? That’s great.” He was off the couch, suddenly feeling energized.
“Yeah, so can I come out there? I don’t think I can go another day, Evan.”
Her words pierced his chest. “Of course you can. I’ll call Bud right now and have him get the jet ready, and you can be out here tonight. Does that work?”
“Yes. I’m already packed.”
He chuckled. She had already predicted his reaction. “I don’t know how long I’ll be on set tonight, but I’ll make sure you can get into my suite.” The schedule on this movie was never reliable. Some nights they were working until after midnight.
“Ok, don’t worry about me. I’m so excited that I doubt I’ll be able to sleep. I’ll stay up as long as it takes.”
“Sounds good, darlin’. I’ll text you when I get everything set up.”
“I can’t believe I get to wake up with you in the morning.” It came out as a sigh, and Evan couldn’t think of a more beautiful sound.
“Me too, baby. All right, let me go so I can get you out here. My breaks don’t last forever.”
“Right. See you tonight.”
He hung up and started making the calls that would bring Haven to him. He had waited two weeks for this.
T.A. Foster met, fell in love with, and married her own Marine fighter pilot. Through deployments, trainings, and sometimes living oceans apart, their own love story continues every day. She grew up catching rays and waves along the North Carolina Outer Banks and now resides in the state with her husband, two children, and two canine kiddos. T.A. has an undergraduate degree in Journalism and Mass Communication from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and a graduate degree in Educational Psychology from Texas A&M University. When she’s not chasing her two-legged and four-legged children or trying to escape for date night, you can find her reading, writing, or planning her next beach trip.