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The woman had called the day before to cash in the gift card she’d stolen from Cassie at Sophie’s party. Apparently, she wanted the pictures for a Christmas gift and was willing to pay for expedition. Yesterday, the idea of a quick shoot and some extra cash sounded like a no-brainer. Today, with the woman in front of him smiling too big and tossing around panties, Ryan’s Spidey senses warned of a trap. When he’d met her a little over a week ago at the Patels’ party, she’d been hitting on him. So who was she giving boudoir pictures to for Christmas?
When she continued to look at him expectantly, he told her, “I just take the pictures. Hair, makeup, wardrobe - those aren’t in my wheelhouse.”
Not that she needed hair and makeup. Brooke was a natural beauty. Still, if her curled hair and smoky eyes were any indication, she’d gone to some trouble to fix herself up before their appointment.
Her ruby lips stretched in a wide smile. “You’re a man. I’m sure lingerie is in your wheelhouse.”
An image of Cassie leaning against the hotel room door in a black lace bra and matching panties and garter flashed into his mind. So, maybe he did have knowledge and preferences concerning lingerie, but only involving Cassie. As for the other trillion women in the world, he couldn’t care less. Including Brooke.
“I like this red… for Christmas.” She held up a mass of red lace and straps.
He couldn’t tell how she was supposed to wear the garment, but he nodded. “Perfect. There’s a dressing room through there. You can change while I set up.”
The woman’s smile dimmed. “Okay. Well… okay.” She traipsed away on pencil thin heels.
“There’s a robe on the back of the door for you,” he called after her.
Her response was muffled by the closed door. Turning away from the dressing room, his gaze landed on the picture of Cassie hanging on the wall, her stomach swollen with the life of their unborn child. Four nights ago he’d spilled inside her fully conscious of the possible consequences. Hope fluttered in his chest at the thought. Cassie could be pregnant with his child again. If so, this time would be different. This time she’d know he’d be involved. They’d share every part of the experience. He wanted to share that with her. And if not now, well, he’d be glad to practice.
Still smiling to himself, he lifted his head. Brooke had exited the bathroom, but she hadn’t bothered with the robe. She stood in front of him, barely covered by a scrap of red lace on her crotch and what looked like red tape across her nipples. Every other mound and curve of her body was exposed. She waved a bow in her right hand. “Do you think this is overkill?”
Swallowing, he shook his head. “Again. Up to you.”
Brooke’s green eyes narrowed, but a grin still tugged her lips. “You know. I really thought you’d be more helpful. I’ve talked to other women who said you were very opinionated about sexy things.”
Dread dropped into his stomach. “Not on the job.” Maybe he played around with the models he worked with on assignments, but never his personal studio. These women weren’t professional models, getting paid like him, looking for a quick fling. The women he worked with at his studio were local, everyday women who just wanted their picture taken. Not that they weren’t beautiful. But they paid him for a service and trusted him to act professionally. He cared too much about the business he’d built and the clients he’d acquired to throw that away by sleeping with any of them.
And now, he had a chance with Cassie.
“Maybe I should try on the others and we can see which gets the biggest reaction.” Brooke’s gaze dropped to his crotch and his still flaccid dick.
So far, only thoughts of Cassie had caused any reaction. Glancing between the picture on the wall and the mostly naked woman in front of him, for the first time, he had doubts about his occupation. He turned back to Brooke. No denying, she was beautiful, and willing. A month ago, he would’ve cancelled the shoot and asked her on a date. Not today. Today, standing here with a scantily clad woman, made his stomach churn and his heart ache.
“Brooke . . . I . . . I can’t do the shoot.”
Her grin melted into a pout. “But the gift cert —”
“I know. I’ll be glad to compensate you or perhaps substitute a family package. Or, you’re pretty, have you ever thought of headshots?” Why had he said that? Now her smile returned.
“You really think I’m pretty?”
Barely stopping himself from rolling his eyes, he replied, “You know you are.”
Her grin practically ate her face. “It’s okay. I don’t have anyone to share these with anyway.” She batted her eyes at him. “At least not yet.”
“Yeah, well —”
Before he could finish his statement, his arms were filled with warm, bare flesh and red painted lips smashed against his mouth. Brooke slipped her tongue between his parted lips. The taste of spearmint, fresh and cool, assaulted his taste buds. He wanted the warm, sweet taste of cinnamon that always accompanied Cassie.
Shit. Cassie.
Shoving Brooke away, he stumbled backward. He shouldn’t be kissing Brooke. Hell, not onlyshouldn’the kiss her, he didn’t evenwantto kiss her. For the few brief moments her lips had pressed to his, he felt nothing.
Brooke stared at him wide-eyed. Red lipstick smeared across her face. “Wh… What’s wrong?”
“I don’t… I don’t hook up with clients.” Why did he care if he let her down easy or not?
“But you said you couldn’t do the shoot. I thought that meant you wanted… I mean we got along so well the other night.” Her narrowed gaze slid to the picture on the wall. “Is it that woman? Your daughter’s mother? The one you left with?”
