or your brothers or whatever. Just you and me. If you could do anything. Tell me.”

Sam took a deep breath and tried his hardest to access the truth. There wasn’t a clear answer that jumped to the forefront ’cause the truth was he didn’t live on Planet Black Actors Get Whatever They Want. He had to learn to manage his dreams a long time ago to stop from crushing his own heart and his passion along with it.

“Tell me. Speak it into existence. What’s the project?” Amanda said, urging him on.

“Okay. I’ll give you my top three—I should make you sign an NDA.”

Amanda laughed, playfully shoving at his knee. “Just tell me.”

“Okay. I don’t know if you’re familiar with Bill Pickett but he was one of the first Black bulldoggers. He paved the way for Black men, and women, to compete in the rodeo. I’d love to do his biopic. I wouldn’t have to be in it, but I’d love to produce it.”

“Okay. You should definitely be in it. If I had a ton of cash I’d write you a check right now. What else?”

Sam swallowed and dug a little deeper. He hadn’t been this honest with anyone other than Zach in a while. “You read comics?”

“I dabble.”

“Well, I’ve heard rumors that they are finally going to move on a Black Death movie.”

“Sam!” Of course she’d heard of Black Death. The comic about the Grim Reaper who inhabited the body of Malcolm Vance, a Black Marine who had nearly died in Vietnam, had been around for decades.

“I’d love to play Malcolm. That shit would be fun as hell.”

“Okay, I know we are talking about wildest dreams, but have you told your agent?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I’d be up against every Black actor in town and a few of the stupid white ones.”

“No. Nope. No way. You have to at least float your name. Do not shoot yourself in the foot and keep yourself out of the running.” Black Death was one of those projects he’d wanted since his grandpa had shown him his tattered copy of issue number one. But Hollywood was struggling to let more than one Black superhero shine. “But we’ll come back to that. What’s number three?”

“I want to be in a legit rom-com. Or a romantic period drama if I’m really going for it.”

Amanda leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands, on the back of the couch. “You would be an amazing leading man. A perfect Prince Charming.”

“I like to think so. Not in a cocky way.”

“Why not? Hell, be cocky about it.”

“What’s your big Hollywood dream?”

“Oh, just tons and tons of weird, sweeping, romantic epics in space. I want everything in space. With kissing. Pirates in space, with kissing. A murder mystery in space, with kissing.”

“So you’re not just joking about being a big sci-fi nerd, huh?”

“Not even close.”

“Do you watch Banker Down?”

“Do I watch Banker Down? My first spec script was for Banker Down!”

“Really?”

“Yeah. When I first moved out here. I was young and fresh and so, so naive. I was like, ‘I’ll get staffed in no time.’ Then reality set its phasers to ‘bitch, you thought.’”

Sam burst out laughing. “Can I read it?”

“Ugh. No. It hasn’t aged well. It’s like season four good when I thought it was season one good.”

“I bet it’s dope. My buddy and I just started a rewatch before awards season kicked up. I wanna get back to it.”

“Oh man,” she started, and then yawned. Sam glanced at the clock on the little desk in the corner. It was only eleven, but it had been a long day.

“Should I tuck you in? It’s getting late.”

“If by tuck me in you mean finger bang me until I fall asleep, then yes.”

Sam snorted, then stood to gather everything on the room service platter, glad they’d taken the time they’d needed to talk and connect and refuel. Then he turned back to the bed to get to work.

Chapter 18

Amanda couldn’t believe the night they’d spent together and how much sex they’d had.

Well . . . she could believe that part.

The sexual chemistry they’d had since day one was clear from the International Space Station, but Amanda had spent so many nights thinking about what it would be like to be with Sam Pleasant again, what it would be like to kiss him and touch him outside of a one-night after-party situation. And now she knew and she didn’t want to let him go. She knew she had to tell him the truth.

She did one more sweep of the room, grabbing her phone charger and stuffing it into her bag. She took out the last twenty she had and left it on the nightstand with a note for housekeeping. She could see why people paid a mint and a couple kidneys for the minimum two-night stay. The Pleasants had something special here with Big Rock Ranch.

“Yup?” she called out in response to a light knock on the door.

“It’s me.” She heard Sam’s perfect voice from out in the hallway.

She hurried across the room and let him in. He’d been gone for a whole six minutes, but she was happy to see him again. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He kissed her on the mouth, like he hadn’t just kissed her seven minutes ago before he went down to the front desk. He kissed her again once more before he gave her butt a light squeeze. Then he went to the sofa and sat on the arm. He was wearing the same clothes from last night, but he looked sexy as hell. Denim-covered legs, worn boots and all. She couldn’t help but picture the alternate universe where he was a rugged farmer and she was his big-breasted wife. Oh, they’d make so many babies to help run that farm. In space.

He took off his hat and slowly rotated it in his hands. “So you’re all checked out. You don’t even need to bring the keycard back to the desk. Just leave when you’re ready.” Amanda walked over and stepped

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