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I eye her petite frame. She’s got curves, but there’s no way in hell she needs to be on a fucking diet. Scowling, I say, “Do you have any clue how sexy you are? Those curves of yours are every man’s fucking dream.”
Her eyes widen and I’m stunned to think I’ve told her something she should have already known. Something any man in his right mind would tell her. “There’s always room for improvement,” she says quietly, and I want to take a match to those thoughts and burn them from her mind.
I shake my head. “Not for you.” I yank her hand and pull her to me. Her body collides with mine, and the heat between us flares. Running my finger along her lips, I say, “As far as I’m concerned, your sexiness is off the fucking charts. Don’t change a thing.”
A smile eases onto her face. “Every woman needs a Jett. You could singlehandedly fix the mental health of most of the women I know.”
I steal a kiss and then smack her ass. That ass is one I could happily spend hours getting to know and laying my hand on it is something I want to do more of. Pulling away, I boss her around. “Okay, start walking. Food heaven awaits.”
***
Ten minutes later, we arrive at the café and the owner gives me a huge smile. I’ve been coming here on and off for five years, so they know me well. He gets us settled and takes our order. I’m pleased to see Presley order up big. After the owner leaves us, I say, “I take it you don’t live here due to the fact you’re staying in a hotel. Where are you from?”
“Brisbane. You?”
Inside, I’m cheering like a dickhead. “Brisbane, too.”
“Are you here for work?”
“Yeah, we came to Sydney to do some concerts.” I shift in my seat and lean across the table a little. “You said you were working with models. What do you do?”
“I’m a fashion photographer. However, I’m thinking of swapping to landscape photography,” she says, and I note the sarcasm.
I chuckle. “Had enough of the models?”
“You have no idea. I’ve been working in this industry for seven years, and I think I’ve hit my used by date.”
“So, time for a change?”
She nods, clearly enthusiastic about this idea. “I’ve got three months off, and I’m going to reassess everything.”
I cock my head. “Sounds like you’re about to make a lot of changes, not just work.”
“Yeah, it’s been one of those years, you know?”
“I do. Although for me, it’s been more than one of those years.” Exhaustion pounces on me just thinking about it.
“Oh god, that sucks,” she says, and I’m in complete agreement with her.
“Yeah, it does, because I love making music. It’s just all the other bullshit that goes with it that I hate.”
“Which part?”
“I miss my family and friends. When we started the band ten years ago, I never cared about being away from them, but over the last few years, I’ve really started resenting it. In fact, we’re just about to take some extended time off, something we haven’t done for a long time,” I say, taking in her surprise. “Why do you seem surprised?”
“I’m more impressed than surprised,” she says, softly.
“Why?”
“I’ve met a lot of famous people through my work and other things, even made friends with some of them, and they hardly ever talk about their family. You’ve mentioned yours twice already tonight. So yeah, I’m surprised but impressed.”
A sensation I’ve never felt snakes through me. I’m clueless as to what it is, but I soak it in. It’s the kind of sensation I would pay good money to feel more of. “I know what you mean, sweetheart,” I murmur.
“Do all your band members get on well?”
“Ten years is a long time to work together and practically live together. We’ve hardly stopped touring in that time. But I’m pretty proud to admit we work at it and do get on fairly well still. There have been some bumpy parts, though. I guess it’s like a marriage.”
“You’ve been married?” she asks, seemingly interested in my answer.
