To the Moon and Back Page 20

  “I know you are. Everyone else is going to know soon, too.” Thinking about Carly going back to LA reminded Lauren that they were close to the halfway mark on their four-week run of the show. That put an uncomfortable lump right in the middle of her throat. Lauren didn’t want this journey with the show to end, or her time with Carly. She also couldn’t fathom not working with Carly every day. The concept of her returning to LA was one she hadn’t quite examined fully. Maybe that was naïve of her, but it felt more like a guarding of her own heart, which she’d all but surrendered to Carly lately.

  “Where did you go just now?” Carly asked, angling a strand of hair behind Lauren’s ear. “You got that faraway look in your eye, and it’s rare for you to drift away.” She tapped Lauren’s temple. “Always so focused.”

  “Thinking about when the show closes.” She felt the wistful look creep onto her face right on cue. The future felt uncertain, and for someone who thrived on planning, that was a daunting prospect.

  Carly sighed, mirroring Lauren’s emotions. “You know, when I think about that particular topic, it always involves a side narrative where you come back to LA with me. Make a go of it out there. We fly through the streets with the top down on my convertible. We do some kissing, too. Maybe stop at Starbucks. Then, more kissing.”

  “Of course you drive a convertible back home, too. What kind?”

  “I drive a 911 most of the time.”

  Lauren blinked. “I have no idea what that is. Is it bigger than a Mini Countryman? Does it have a siren?”

  “No, and no. A 911 is a Porsche.”

  “Well, yeah,” Lauren said, as if it was the most natural thing in all the land. “Everyone knows the names of all the Porsche models. So incredibly common.” Lauren laughed in that hoity-toity way she imagined a rich person would.

  “You’re adorable.” Carly shook her head, staring at Lauren with pure affection. “I’m keeping you and taking you to LA. Discussion closed.”

  Lauren opened her mouth and closed it. “I don’t know.” The concept was terrifying. She’d taken years to finally establish herself as a top-tier stage manager at The McAllister, a theater she cherished. Yet the attention this role had earned her propped open a door to a long-forgotten dream. She needed to figure out what the next step in her life would be. What did she want out of her career? At the same time, there was also Carly and their unexpected connection. “I think it’s all terrifying.” She held up her hand. “I’m even chewing my nails. I never do that. Just look at them.”

  “Tsk. Those are sad. Shall I schedule us a couples’ manicure?”

  “Would you believe I’ve never had one of those?”

  Carly laughed. “Yes, because you’re Lauren, and it’s not all that practical. Manicures are a luxury. It’s one of the things I love about you. You’re not pretentious.”

  They’d both heard it. The L-word. No, it wasn’t a proclamation of love, but it was the first time the concept had ever been entered into the record of their relationship. She watched Carly quickly gather herself, stand, and change the subject.

  “I should get ready. Close to our half hour.”

  Aha, the word made her feel uncomfortable, daunted. Lauren felt the pang of disappointment, and a small part of herself screamed that Carly would never go there with her. Self-doubt truly sucked. Yet she lived with it daily.

  “See you out there?” Lauren asked.

  Carly leaned down, kissed her lips, and straightened. “Yes. Let’s take these women on another twirl around fate. See you on the other side?”

  “I’ll be there. Break a leg.”

  Lauren watched Carly leave through the mirror. Since the reviews hit nearly ten days ago, Carly had carried herself a tad heavier, almost as if trying to escape a dark cloud following her around. She had fun moments, and sexy moments, and, as always, killed it onstage. Yet she’d get this faraway look in her eye that Lauren had come to understand originated from fear. That tugged at Lauren, who wanted to gather Carly up and keep her safe from the world, which had proven itself to be less than hospitable. Carly projected such confidence and bravado that it took a while to understand that beneath it all existed a well of vulnerability.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re at half hour.”

  She smiled at the sound of Trip’s ultra-professional voice. She’d only hear it for another two weeks of performances. She tapped the small notebook in which she’d taken down the phone numbers from the voicemails earlier. She wasn’t on the schedule at The McAllister for the next show, as she’d been promised a true vacation by Wilks. That time was hers, and she wouldn’t lose her job. Possibilities swirled. Uncertainty loomed. Above all, her heart squeezed uncomfortably. “What in the world am I supposed to do with myself now?”

  The quiet of the room absorbed her question. She had a show to do first.

  * * *

  Carly, in her act 1 business suit for Ashley, regarded herself in the mirror. She had ten minutes until places and had her hair, costume, and makeup ready in record time, which left a few minutes to spare. While in Lauren’s dressing room earlier, she’d seen the names and numbers of several key industry players on her dressing table. That meant Lauren’s phone was clearly getting a workout, while her own remained woefully silent. Not one to just accept her fate, Carly pulled her phone out of her bag and knew the only thing to do now. Call her agent. Again.

  “Alika Moore’s office. This is William.”

  “William. It’s Carly Daniel. Is she available?”

  “I’ll put you right through.” Only a small pause before Alika answered.

  “Alika, do you know that it’s the middle of autumn and forty-two degrees in Minneapolis? California is weeping for me and my lost tan.”

  Her agent chuckled. “Well, hello, Carly Daniel. How the hell are you today?”

  “About the same as when we chatted last week. Show’s going well. People seem to love it. We have huge crowds at the stage door and have sold out the entire run.”

  “That’s fantastic news. I knew you’d kill it if we sent you out there. Right move all the way.”

  “You still think so?” A pause. Carly watched herself carefully in the mirror, insecurity creasing her features. She absently fiddled with the eyelash curler on her dressing table. “Just haven’t heard from you. Wondering if you’ve had any bites since we last spoke. I’m ready to get going, line some things up.”

  She heard Alika shuffle some papers on her desk, which she knew from experience was always messy, stacked with file folders, and decorated with stray paper clips. Alika operated on a system of organized chaos which would drive Lauren insane. She smothered a smile just thinking about it.

  “I wish I did, Carly. I had hoped that some good press would raise your demand a bit. The rumors that were published haven’t been helpful.”

  “But the rumors weren’t true. I got along with everyone, except the one actress who hated me from the moment I walked in the door. It was still a harmonious environment, though. We had a positive rehearsal period.”

  “Doesn’t matter if you were Mother Teresa in that room if the opposite is what makes it to print. You know this business. The reviews are good, but—”

  “Not amazing. At least, not for me.” She placed a hand on her forehead, realizing her uphill battle. It was like she couldn’t do anything right, even when she did.

  “True.” Alika sighed. “I could get you endorsement work, TV spots, but I’m worried that’s the wrong move if we want to revive your film career. It’s all about what you want your future to be.”

  “Film is where it’s at, and it’s where I want to be. Stage would be good, too. As long as it’s high profile.”

  Alika didn’t say anything. “The only thing might be, and don’t grasp on to this yet, but—”

  “Tell me.” Carly stood up, needing something, anything to keep hope alive.

  “There’s murmuring down the hall among our theatrical agents that Starry Nights might make a Broadway transfer
.”

  Carly held her breath. Was it possible? The McAllister was reputable, but Broadway was legendary. If they transferred the show, her visibility would soar. Not only that, but she felt like a part of Starry Nights, and it was part of her. She couldn’t imagine the show making that leap without her and Lauren in their rightful roles. “Alika, my favorite agent ever”—she began to walk the length of her small dressing room, invigorated—“if that happens, it could be a game changer.”

  “I hesitated to mention it, as it could all just be rumor. Don’t get your hopes up just yet.”

  Carly snapped her fingers. “Too late. How can we make this happen?”

  “Well, I could always put the word out that you’d be interested. See if that sparks any momentum for the project.”

  “Yes, do that. I am.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, five minutes, please. Five minutes to places.”

  “Gotta run,” Carly said, glancing up at the speaker. “But let’s talk soon. This is amazing, Leek. I’m sending a basket of bourbon. All the bourbon. It’s yours.”

  “You might want to wait until the deal is done, but I will sip away in your name.”

  “You’re making me misty. Showtime. Bye.”

  Carly clicked off the call and dashed out of her dressing room en route to the wings, where she planned to deliver the performance of her life and get herself and Lauren exactly where they needed to be. There was simply too much at stake.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lauren stirred the big pot of homemade chili she’d made for herself and Carly to accompany the cold day, while the cornbread baked in the oven. It was after six and the sun was nearly down, a reminder that winter was not far off. Because it was Monday, they had the night off and were using it to unwind together.

  “My mom didn’t cook,” Carly said. “She heated up at most. Chicken strips and those meals with the sectioned-off side dishes.”

  “TV dinners. Well, who would have imagined that Ms. Porsche 911 grew up on frozen foods?”

  “What about you, Ms. Mini Cooper?”

  “Homemade all the way.” She tasted the chili. Perfectly spiced. “We would sit around the table and tell the high and low point of our day.”

  “So you essentially grew up on The Brady Bunch.”

  “Without the divorce part, but yes. Wholesome is a good word for it. Oatmeal cookies in a jar and all.”

  “Well, that explains it.” Lauren offered a wooden spoonful of chili to Carly, who took a taste. She blinked. “That’s the most amazing chili anyone’s ever made.”

  “I have chili skills,” Lauren said and shimmied her shoulders.

  Carly grinned at her. “Please always dance while you cook. I would have to tell your family, if they asked, that your dancing was the high point of my day today. It’s also kind of sexy.”

  Lauren bounced her eyebrows playfully, knowing full well she could capitalize on that shimmy later. “Wait. Explains what?” Lauren asked, returning to her stirring. “You never finished the thought earlier, and you’re not off the hook.”

  Carly leaned her back against the counter. “Your upbringing explains why you’re so put together.”

  “Does that get on your nerves?” Lauren scrunched one eye closed. “The organizing can be a bit much. I’m aware.” She pointed at the cookbooks on her counter, arranged in height order.

  “No.” Carly shook her head. “There’s something about it, all the little meticulous details you manage and move around and need to have a certain way, that gets me…hot. Even your calendar on the fridge with all the tiny writing.” She braced against what appeared to be a shiver of pleasure.

  Lauren chuckled. “Only you would feel that way.”

  Carly slid her arms around Lauren’s waist from behind. “It’s why we’re drawn to each other like sexy moths to a romantic flame.”

  “I’ve always thought of us as sexy moths.”

  “Right?” Carly moved Lauren’s hair to the side and placed a kiss on the back of her neck that sent a tingle. “Do you know what it is? Your family is the catalog family. The one advertising the matching pajamas that even the dog is wearing.”

  Lauren laughed. “We did have matching pajamas for Christmas morning.”

  “Oh my God, of course you did. I haven’t met your brother, but he seems to fit, too.”

  “Oh, he does. He argues the hardest for which pair we should get.”

  Carly’s hands traveled up from where they rested at Lauren’s waist to her rib cage and then lightly circled her breasts through her sweater. Lauren was forced to close her eyes in sweet surrender, loving being touched this way by Carly.

  “Have I mentioned how much I love your breasts?” Carly asked, just before kissing the side of her neck.

  Oh, man. “I think…yes.”

  “Well, it’s so very true today. Let me tell you.”

  Lauren opened her eyes and tried to pay attention to her very mundane chili task but was losing ground. All you have to do is stir, she told herself. Another open-mouthed kiss on her neck. Carly cupped her breasts more firmly, pressing them back against Lauren’s chest in a slow massage. Lauren was supposed to survive this, how? Why did her breasts have to be so sensitive? As if reading her thoughts, Carly abandoned that practice and dipped her hands up the hem of Lauren’s sweater, and then found her way into Lauren’s bra, circling her nipples with two fingers, then pinching lightly. It was as if someone had turned up the volume on her body, and it was all she could hear or concentrate on. She felt that familiar tugging between her legs, as everything woke the hell up for Carly the way it always did.

  “Wanna take a break for just a minute or two?” Carly whispered in her ear. “We don’t even have to go very far.” To tip the scale even further, Carly ran her fingers along Lauren’s waistband, nearly causing her knees to buckle. “What do you say?”

  Lauren nodded, because her voice felt far away in her haze of lust. She didn’t recognize her life lately, in the best way possible. It was barely dark on a Monday, and she was about to have an amazing dinner and some action with a woman she was growing to truly care about. Okay, she could admit that Carly was also ridiculously hot and fun and taking Lauren’s shirt off with skilled precision.

  She allowed Carly to lead her a few feet away from the hot stove, her hands on the exposed skin at the small of Lauren’s back. Carly turned her around and kissed her, flooding Lauren’s senses. She tasted strawberry from Carly’s lip gloss. She felt the soft tickling of Carly’s hair on her own shoulders. She wanted Carly’s hands on her soon, all the while inhaling the scent of the most wonderful pot of chili she’d ever cooked.

  She drew one breath before Carly lifted the cups of her bra up and over, exposing her breasts. Lauren tried to control her breathing, but air was scarce. Carly pulled a nipple into her mouth as she unbuttoned Lauren’s jeans with her other hand and slid them partway down. They didn’t need or want foreplay. That wasn’t what this was. They’d developed a shorthand like none Lauren had ever known. It was fun to take their time, and oh, they did often, but fast and good in a kitchen had its merits as well, Lauren had learned.

  Carly slipped her hand down the inside of Lauren’s underwear and touched her intimately. Lauren hissed in a breath and pressed back. Once the sensations settled, they began. She rode Carly’s hand slowly, holding eye contact, losing herself in a sea of soft blue. It didn’t take long. She said Carly’s name, closed her eyes, and rocked her hips frantically. She came with a shuddering cry, rocketing to a wonderful oblivion of pleasure. She sucked in a steadying breath. She’d been innocently cooking just five minutes ago.

  “You are so beautiful when you come,” Carly said reverently, still touching her. With her other hand, she cradled Lauren’s cheek and then kissed her softly. “Can there be more of that later?”

  Lauren struggled to regain sentence structure, still in recovery mode. She nodded, however, imagining all the ways she’d even the score. The things she wanted to do to Carly entered
her mind with gusto. It was shaping up to be a wonderful night off.

  * * *

  Tiny details mattered. The early afternoon sunshine on Lauren’s back patio caught the tiny hints of red in Lauren’s brown hair. Carly wasn’t sure she’d ever noticed them before and took joy in learning more tiny things about Lauren. She liked her coffee warm, but not hot. She liked to take walks in her neighborhood but preferred to do so at night after a show. She loved having her back tickled as she fell asleep and knew way more about football than Carly would have guessed.

  “So I’m doing this?” Lauren asked, with a nervous smile.

  Carly held up her palms. “I’m merely a supportive bystander.”

  She watched Lauren take the pen and sign her name with a flourish, finishing with a twist of her wrist. “There. Done.” She raised her gaze in triumph.

  Carly grinned back. “It’s official. You have an agent. A really, really good one, too. UTA is top-notch.” She shrugged extra-casually. “So, you’re going to give your acting career a second shot.”

  Lauren hesitated. “Yes and no. I think it just means I’ll dip my toe in the water and see if it’s warm. My plan is to go on an audition or two and decide from there.” She shook her head. “It’s strange because I’m not unhappy stage managing.”

  “I could tell. You were in your element.” The wind hit and Carly snuggled farther into her oversized sweatshirt.

  Lauren winced and stared at the contract with uncertainty. “In fact, I really like it. But what if I like acting more?”

  “I think you owe it to yourself to find out. One thing I know? You’re really good at both.”

  “First world problems.” Lauren shook her head, highlighting how torn she felt.

  Carly’s stomach tightened. They’d talked on and off about the possibility of Lauren coming back West with Carly, but she’d never quite committed fully. From Carly’s perspective, she couldn’t imagine anything better than the two of them in LA, the town she loved. Though she hadn’t yet wrapped her head around what it all meant, she’d never had feelings as powerful as those she was experiencing for Lauren. While still mysterious, she knew they were too important to just wave to Lauren in her rearview mirror when she left Minneapolis in ten days. In fact, she couldn’t.