Dreaming With A Broken Heart (Hollywood Legends Book 1) by Mary J. Williams Page B

was
    boring. If word got out about his clandestine meetings with Jade Marlow, that
    would change in a heartbeat.
    So, for the first time in his life, Garrett became a
    skulker. Finding out he was good at it came as a bit of a surprise. Making
    excuses when friends invited him out for drinks. Leaving his Lamborghini parked
    at the studio while he drove off in a newly purchased turn-of-the-century
    Toyota. He couldn’t afford to keep borrowing Hamish’s car. Not unless he wanted
    to start answering the inevitable questions.
    Putting off his friends and colleagues was a piece of cake.
    His family? That was another matter altogether.
    “Let’s go out and get stinking drunk.”
    Nate walked into his office the way he usually did. No
    warning and mid-thought. His twin flopped onto the couch, his big body crushing
    cushions.
    “Because?” Garrett was certain he knew the answer.
    “My next gig starts the day after tomorrow. They
    estimate a ten-week shoot. Which means…”
    “Closer to fourteen.” Garrett finished. Stan
    Packer was directing the film. The man was notorious for his run overs.
    “Exactly,” Nate huffed. “I don’t drink when
    I’m on the job. I can live without the stuff; you know that. But on location?
    In Bumfuck, Tennessee? There is nothing to do but count each other’s mosquito
    bites.”
    “That can be entertaining.”
    “No women in the movie or on the crew, little
    brother.”
    “Well, damn.” Garrett sympathized. He was sexually
    frustrated and he had a woman. Sort of. Nate was staring down more than
    three months without even a chance of sex. Brutal.
    “You shouldn’t be getting drunk; you should be getting
    laid.”
    “Been there, done that,” Nate said with an
    exaggerated sigh.
    “God,” Garrett chuckled. “Save me from the
    day I make sex sound like it was a chore.”
    “Not a chore,” Nate conceded. “A bore. Or
    rather, so by the numbers I can barely remember it happened. Two hours ago,
    Garrett. The sex was the equivalent of junk food. It seems great while it’s
    happening. After, you feel empty and unsatisfied.”
    “When did you start waxing philosophical?”
    “Philosophical, hell,” Nate scoffed. “I’m saying
    I need a more imaginative bed partner.”
    “I think it was you who once pointed out this town has
    an endless array of choices. Women at every turn.”
    “Hmm. There are more women than one man can hope to get
    to. The problem is I haven’t been making very good choices lately.”
    Nate leaned his head back, his eyes closed. He wore his
    usual. Jeans and a t-shirt. Both were well worn, though fastidiously clean.
    Black, steel-toed work boots. Around his right wrist, he wore a red and gold
    braided friendship bracelet — a gift from a young cancer victim Nate met
    through the Make a Wish Foundation. The boy wanted to grow up to be a stuntman.
    Through superior medical care and what the doctors called a miracle, that
    dream, and the boy was still alive. Nate would cut off his hand before he
    parted with those woven pieces of cloth.
    “Dare I ask who your latest disappointment was?”
    “Tawny Bright.”
    “Oh, come on.”
    Nate lifted one eyelid. Seeing the disbelief on his
    brother’s face, he grinned.
    “I swear on my vintage Harley.”
    “Stripper?”
    “Hippies,” Nate corrected. “Her parents
    carried on the family tradition of living off the earth and naming their
    children ridiculously over-the-top names. I figure you have two choices.
    Legally change it or embrace the crazy.”
    “I take it Tawny chose the latter.” Garrett loved
    when his brother stopped by. He had the best stories. Most of which were true.
    “Top to bottom. She looks like she stepped out of the
    touring company of Hair. Or maybe Godspell . I always thought that
    one was completely out there.”
    “It cracks me up that my badass brother knows the
    difference. Guys with bulging muscles and tattoos aren’t supposed to be musical
    theater fans.”
    “Ya,” Nate