I’d like to fix that.”
I stared back at him. Had anyone in my life ever wanted to get to know the real me? The one who didn’t love chasing fame or worrying about public perception? And was it possible he meant it?
Plenty of people in my line of work had warned me away from trusting new people. I knew better than to spill secrets to a stranger. But Declan was… was different. He was the kind of man who practically radiated honor from his every pore.
“I felt like I was never good enough,” I admitted. “I had no training, no experience. They’d cast me based on my looks and the fact they could sign me super cheap, at first anyway. Then they had to put up with the results which was a kid who didn’t know what a gaffer was or a grip. Or any number of lighting and direction terms. I was constantly being told I was doing it wrong, and I felt like…”
“Eliza Doolittle.”
I nodded and let out a little huff of laughter. “Exactly.”
Declan grinned. “And poor Henry got all your backtalk and complaints.”
“But he never spilled any of my secrets. Henry Higgins was the best friend a lonely gay kid in Hollywood could have ever had. I remember when my agent was negotiating the contract for the fifth season of the show, I demanded permission to allow Henry in my trailer on set.” I laughed at the memory. “They were all stunned. I’d never demanded a single thing. Ever. My mom was horrified. She told me to let it go, but I stood my ground.”
“Don’t mess with a boy and his dog,” Declan teased.
“Did you have a dog growing up?”
He nodded. “Several. My mom had a Great Dane named Poe, who wouldn’t give the rest of us the time of day. My brothers and I had a motley crew of dogs over the years, but my favorite—my heart dog—was a corgi basset hound mix named Goose. She used to sleep on the pillow above my head.”
I had a hard time picturing a lanky, awkward teen version of Sheriff Stone with a little dog curled on the bed above his head.
“Have you thought about getting a dog here in Aster Valley? Seems like you have enough land for it. My agent cautioned me against getting one since I don’t have a yard and I travel a lot. But you have plenty of land and presumably don’t travel.”
Declan studied me again. It was becoming a little eerie. Like maybe there was an entirely different conversation going on between us in his head. Finally, he spoke.
“Do you have enough money set aside to last you and your mom the rest of your life?”
I stared at him in shock. What the fuck was he asking me? Had I gotten him all wrong? Was he interested in my money more than my childhood dog stories?
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” I stood up and grabbed my almost empty dish, quickly taking it to the kitchen sink and rinsing it off before trying to remember where I’d set down my keys. I needed to get out of here. The man had just tripped my creep-o meter in a big way.
Before I could turn away from the sink, the sheriff’s big body boxed me in from behind. “Slow down,” he said with that infuriatingly calm tone. “Let me explain why I was asking before you go off half-cocked.”
I shrugged out of his hold. “Get off me.”
He stepped back and held up his hands. I made my way over to where I’d kicked off my shoes. There was a bench by the door. I quickly sat down and shoved my foot in the first shoe.
“I was getting around to asking you why you do it. If it’s not for money, which I have to think at this point it’s probably not, then why do you keep doing something you hate?”
I froze. My heart pounded in my chest like cops were banging on the door of a drug bust. Police, open up. I glanced at Declan.
“I don’t hate it,” I said automatically.
His face stiffened into a resigned disappointment. “Okay. Then please accept my apology for implying otherwise. Would you like a piece of pie?”
He sounded so distant all of a sudden that I wanted to scream and possibly cry. Open back up, dammit.
“I don’t,” I called at his back as he moved toward the kitchen.
“I heard you the first time,” he said casually,