Return to You

a time he hadn't wanted to make movies—from that Christmas
day when he was six and got his first hand-me-down Super 8 camera.
The rest was history.
    He wished this movie was history.
    Everything about Love Unbound was
wrong—from the storyline to the cast to the location. He combed his
hand through his hair. As if it wasn't enough that he had to deal
with being back in Northern California and seeing Olivia, having to direct
Sophie Martineau was a one-way ticket to an insane asylum. Early in
both their careers they'd worked together, and it wasn't an
experience he'd cared to repeat. Ever.
    Parker knew that, but the man wasn't even
bothering to be subtle. The whole movie was a set-up. A story about
a burnt-out actress coming home to hook up with her high school
love? Come on. Sophie Martineau playing the lead? Any pretense of
staying on schedule and under budget might as well be dispensed
with right from the start. And shooting on Granny Mae's farm?
    But a set-up for what? To fail?
    Failing meant he couldn't get out of his
indenture to Parker Pictures.
    Michael shook his head, looking at Romantic
Notions's storefront down the block. That didn't ring true. Parker
was after something else.
    Time enough to figure that out later. Now he
had to concentrate on the matter at hand—Olivia. He stuck his hands
in his pocket, touched the locket, and headed to Romantic
Notions.
    He pushed open the door to Olivia's store
and stepped in. He looked to the counter, expecting to see Olivia,
but there was no sign of anyone.
    The first time he came in, he'd been so
focused on Olivia he hadn't given the surroundings a second glance.
This time, he took his time to take in the ambiance and feel of her
store.
    A couple plush velvet chairs were separated
by a coffee table laden with all sorts of magazines—fashion to
automotive. Display racks and tables showcased all sorts of
underwear, from the practical to the seductive in an array of
color. The smell of some flower tickled his nose, but it was light,
almost an afterthought.
    Comfortable.
    He'd bought his fair share of underwear for
girlfriends in the past and he'd never felt at ease in a lingerie
store. This was a store he could enjoy shopping at. He walked over
to a display and picked up a bottle. "Chocolate Topping for
Lovers," he read.
    Was Olivia into this stuff? He pictured her,
naked, her wild hair tangled, her eyes wicked with intent. She was
crawling toward him, the jar of chocolate open. She stopped,
kneeling between his legs, and dipped a finger into the jar.
Slowly, never taking her eyes off his, she smeared the chocolate
across his abdomen. Leaning down, she licked a path from his belly
button, all the way to—
    "What are you doing here?"
    The arch question startled him out of his
fantasy. Michael looked up to see Olivia emerge from a burgundy
velvet curtain.
    She wore a white T-shirt that was thin
enough to see the outline of her nipples.
    He'd fantasized about the wrong thing. He
should have been imagining licking the chocolate off of her
magnificent breasts.
    "What are you doing here?" she asked
again.
    Dreaming about tonguing you
'til you scream. He cleared his throat. "I
need to talk to you."
    "We have nothing to talk about," she stated
flatly. She walked onto the floor, her hands full of new
merchandise.
    "Need help?"
    "What I need is for you to get out of my
store." She dropped the underwear on a table, moved aside old
merchandise, and arranged the new in its place.
    The panties she arranged on the table caught
his attention. He glanced at her belly. In high school, she'd worn
plain white bikinis. What did she wear now?
    He couldn't help himself. Like he was in a
trance, he weaved through the store, not stopping until he was
standing inches away from her. He reached around her, his arm
brushing hers.
    She jumped. "What are you doing?"
    Snaring a g-string from behind her, he
dangled it from the tip of his index finger. "Do you wear stuff
like this?"
    She grabbed the scrap of lace from him.
"Don't touch my underwear."
    His gaze dropped to her lips. An irrational
need to see how badly he could smear her dark lipstick spurred him
on. "You didn't used to mind."
    "My standards were lower then."
    "Ouch."
    She placed her hand on his chest and moved
him back. "Get out of my store, and stay out of my life."
    "What makes you think I want back into your
life?"
    Her eyes narrowed, but the fury lighting
them was impossible to miss. "Then you must be here to make a
purchase. For