Lacy (The Doves of Primrose) by Krista Kedrick Page A

slumped in defeat. She would have to stuff her ears with cotton to avoid the wave of heat his voice sent through her. Why? Why did it have to be him that she wanted?
    “Morning.” She opened her eyes in time to see he had breezed past her and was already pulling out a chair to sit down.
    She turned, a little confused. They always had a charged e xchange anytime they met. As she stood by his table, he pulled out his cell phone and began poking at the screen. He moved his head ever so slightly, as though he may look at her but whatever was on that screen was more intriguing. Obviously she wasn’t worth the effort it would take to glance at her for a couple of seconds.
    “I’ll have steak and eggs. Orange jui ce and hash browns if you’ve got ’em, otherwise toast is fine.” His fingers continued to work.
    “It’ll be right out.” She waited a moment before spinning on her heel in a huff to the kitchen.
     
    ****** ****
     
    Kyle watched her sashay the entire way, admiring the view and ignoring the stab in his chest. He had never treated her that way before, preferring to square off with her quick wit and even quicker temper. But it had to be done, they couldn’t continue down the same path. This was the only way she would understand that things were different and so was he. He wouldn’t allow her to crush his heart in her little hands.
    “Hey. We’re going to do a few run-throughs down by the pond.”
    “Okay, Marcus.” Kyle set his phone down and sat up in his chair when the director approached his table.
    “It’s all we can do until Brody finds some horses for us and the rest of the damn crew shows up . ”Kyle saw the vein pop out in Marcus’s forehead and braced himself for the oncoming slew of curses about cheap production companies, short-sighted producers and unappreciative staff. Kyle made those kinder adjustments in his own head while Marcus ranted until his face turned red. He knew Marcus was a talented director; hell, he had pulled performances out of Kyle he didn’t know possible, but this movie had a thirty-million-dollar budget. So the perspective seemed to be somewhat skewed here.
    “I’ll see you in thirty minutes by the dock.”  Marcus stomped off before Kyle could respond.
    It was these sorts of ever-exhausting episodes that made Kyle dream of the simple life he had before with regular people who couldn’t fathom spending millions of dollars on making a film. The irony of that was those same people would spend it on purchasing land and not bat an eye.
    “Here ya go, Kyle.” Emmylou set the steaming plate in front of him accompanied by a napkin in the shape of a fan. “Mr. Chandler seemed pretty worked up.”
    Kyle forced a smile for Emmylou, trying not to show his disappointment. “Marcus? He’s always worked up over something.” He shook the napkin out and placed it on his lap.
    “I suppose it’s stressful. Directing a movie , I mean. I can only imagine how hard it would be to manage all those difficult people. Not that you would be one of them, of course. I just meant that it’s a lot-”
    “Emmylou. I understand what you’re saying and I can relate. We actors can be quite cantankerous.”
    The pink rose in her finely sculpted cheeks and Kyle almost felt bad for her. She was trying to hide it so hard but her feelings were clear to him, poor girl. She was headed down a path strewn with broken and bleeding hearts.
    “What do you have planned for today? I hope y’all will be busy. I would hate to have to climb more trees and evict more doves.” Lacy hoped that didn’t sound desperate.
    He shook his head and chuckled. “I can’t say as I feel the same.”
    Her sapphire blue eyes sparkled while she grinned. “Do you need anything else for your steak? Some ketchup for the hash browns, maybe?”
    “Ketchup would be great.”
    Emmylou plucked a bottle from a nearby table. “Here you go, honey.”
    “Thank you.” Kyle splattered his potatoes. “And we’ll be d oing