Melting the Ice (A Play-by-Play Novel)

So after he was done with his work the next day, he climbed into his truck and drove over to the site. Crews had already finished building the set for . . . whatever movie it was they were filming. Some post-apocalyptic futuristic something or another, supposedly set on another planet. The sparse vegetation, scrub, and hills of the east property would work just fine for it, he supposed. He’d signed the contracts and deposited the check, but hadn’t bothered to pay attention to the name of the film. He wasn’t much of a moviegoer. To go to the movies meant heading into town, and he’d rather sit on the porch and have a beer at night. He liked the quiet. If he wanted to see a movie, he had a television and one of those subscription accounts. That was good enough for him.

Martha was right. It already looked like they’d built a small town on some of the flatlands out there. He parked his truck on the rise, popped open the beer he’d shoved in his cooler, and leaned against the hood of his truck to watch the hustle of people moving back and forth. Trailers had been set up as living areas, though these trailers looked way more expensive than anything Logan could afford. They were more like big houses on wheels. Probably what the stars lived in while they shot the movie.

An SUV came up the road, dust flying behind it. A couple of burly guys wearing all black and sporting dark sunglasses rolled out of the vehicle.

“This is a closed set.”

Unruffled, Logan stared at them. “Okay.”

“You aren’t supposed to be on this property.”

“I own this property.”

One of the guys in black frowned at him. “You’re the property owner?”

“Yeah.”

“Got ID?”

Logan let out a short laugh. “I’m not about to show you my ID Like I said, I own this land and you’re renting it.”

“We’ll still need to see an ID,” burly guy number two said.

Logan folded his arms. “Yeah? You can kiss my ass.”

His attention turned to a slight woman—a girl, really, running up the hill. She wore jogging clothes, tight pants that just went past her knees and a sleeveless top that hugged her slender body. She had dark hair pulled back in a braid. The guys suddenly stepped in front of Logan as if he was going to pull a gun on the woman.

When she reached them, she stopped, drawing in several deep breaths.

“What’s up, Carl?”

“Saw this guy parked up here and came to check it out. He says he’s the property owner but he won’t show ID to prove it.”

She finally straightened and stretched her back. “Is that right? And are you the property owner?”

“So it says on the ranch deed.”

She walked over and held out her hand. “I’m Des.”

Logan shook her hand. “Logan McCormack.”

“Nice ranch, Logan.”

“Thanks.”

“Have you been down to watch filming yet?”

“Why would I want to do that?”

She quirked a smile. “I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d find it interesting.”

“Are you working on the film crew, Des?”

Her lips curled into a smirk. “You could say that.”

One of the big guys stepped forward. “Miss Jenkins?”

“It’s okay, Carl. You and Duke can take off.”

Carl shook his head. “Not a good idea.”

She shot him a look. “And I said I’m fine.”

With another serious death glare, the guy named Carl and the other guy got into the SUV and drove back down the hill.

“Are those your bodyguards?”

She laughed. “No. Well, sometimes.”

“So you must be the star of the show.”

She shrugged. “Well, I’m the lead. I don’t know about star.”

“What are you doing out here?”

“Taking a break. And getting some exercise.”

“Not really a gym on site for you to work out in, is there?”

“No. This is better. You must love it here.”

“It’s home.”

She leaned against the front of his truck, grabbed his beer from his hand, took a long swallow, and handed it back to him. “Thanks.”

“I don’t recall offering it to you.”

She turned to her side. “You’re not very friendly, are you, Logan?”

“I try not to be.”

“Yeah? And why’s that?”

“It keeps people away.”

“Oh, so you don’t like people.”

“I didn’t say that.”

She laughed, and he liked the gravelly, raspy, sexy sound of it. Which he shouldn’t.

“Do you have any more of those?” she asked, eyeing his beer.

“I might.”

When she cocked a brow, he added, “Front passenger floor of the truck. Help yourself.”

She went around and grabbed a beer, bringing him another one, too. “Yours looked about empty.” She popped the top and took a long swallow.

“You sure you’re old enough to be drinking those?”

There went that laugh again. “I’m sure.” She gave him a sideways glance. “Are you old enough to be drinking them?”

“Funny.” He took a long swallow.

She leaned next to him, against the truck, and looked out over the valley.

“Just how big is this ranch, Logan?”

“It’s pretty big.”

She shot him a look. “Pretend I’m smart and just tell me.”

“It’s a little over a hundred thousand acres.”

“Holy shit. That’s a lot. No wonder you could afford to lend us a small piece of the pie.”

“I didn’t lend it. I’m renting it to your movie-making company. Which means I make money. Working a ranch is costly business.”

“I’m sure it is. Though honestly, I wouldn’t know.”

He took another swallow of beer as he studied her. “City girl?”

“A little of that, and a little country. I’ve been around. Never lived on a ranch, though.”

“Where are you from?”

“Just about everywhere.”

“Military?”

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