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“Just?” I stepped closer to him.
“Nothing. Hey, let’s take a selfie.”
“Really?”
He laughed. “Yeah. Here, let me get my phone. I’ll do it.” He withdrew his phone from his jacket, then grabbed my hand and pulled me to the steps. He plopped down on his original step and tugged me forward. He spread his legs again and urged me to sit between them. Once I did, he snugged his thighs around my ribs, leaned over my shoulder and positioned his camera just above our heads. The sky above us was awash in sun rays and colors. He snapped the picture, then another one.
“I’ll send that to you.” He rested one hand on my shoulder, the other fist on his knee, clasping the phone between his thumb and fingers. “Can you put your contact details in?” He handed the phone to me.
I added my name and number, then saved the contact, uber-conscious of his legs still wrapped around my ribs.
“Thanks.” I handed back his phone and started to stand, and his fingers tightened on me, impeding my progress. Finally, he let me go and damn if I didn’t instantly miss the heat of his hand and thighs on my body.
When I turned, his look could only be described as enigmatic. Mysterious and thoughtful. Whatever he had recalled was triggering deep emotion in him.
Lifting my Nikon, I clicked again, but decided in that instant it wasn’t an image I wanted to share with the rest of the world. Remembered pain was dominant in his expression. Giving him a moment, I began to shoot the clouds. The colors were vibrant and magnificent.
“We had really nice sunsets in Oklahoma, but never anything like this. It’s gorgeous.”
Callan rose from the steps and started down. At the bottom, he paused, looking over his shoulder at the sky. I aimed his direction and clicked three more times.
“So gorgeous,” I whispered to myself.
Callan crossed to where I’d planted myself to snap the pictures. “Can I see?” He reached out a hand.
I jerked the Nikon away. I wasn’t used to sharing the pictures I’d taken at a photo shoot. I scanned the lowering sun on the horizon. Buying time, I suggested, “Let’s head back to the parking lot while we still have some sun. I’ll show them to you there.”
He dropped his hand and his face turned into a mask of indifference. “Good plan.”
He stooped to grab my camera bag, then handed it to me. My fingers brushed his as I took the strap, and that spark was still there. The birds present in my gut winged into action again. Ignoring them, I stowed all the gear inside, then zipped it shut.
When I faced him again, he studied the horizon, another faraway look on his face.
“Ready?” I asked.
He nodded with a scowl, then silently led the way through the meadow. I followed on his heels.
“Callan,” I called to get his attention as we re-entered the tree lined section of the trail.
He slowed his step but didn’t stop.
“Are you angry at me?” I was confused. We’d been getting along great. But suddenly, it was all cold-shouldered professionalism.
“Why the hell would I be angry at you. Red?”
“I don’t know,” I confessed. “It just seems…”
Rubbing a hand down his face, he sighed. “I had no right to ask to see the pictures. Just like you’d never offer me musical advice, I shouldn’t think I can critique your work. You’re the artist. I have to trust you got the perfect shot and will do the cover justice.”
The shadows were deepening, and we’d reached the rocky section of the trail. He stopped and gestured for me to hand him my bag. I did and watched as he slung the strap across his body, the leather tucked neatly over his shirt and jacket. He adjusted it so that the body of the bag was at his front. If he fell, my equipment would be protected.
“Let me help you.” He extended a hand to me.
I gripped his warm fingers and let him lead me over the rough terrain. Breaking the silence that stretched between us, I said, “I just…I don’t like to share the pictures, because what I know is perfect for the design might not be what the subject favors. People prefer pictures that make them look good. That isn’t always the best.”
“I get it.” His grip tightened as we climbed over a stump. “You were just smiling so much when you reviewed the shots you’d taken. I thought… Well, I thought I wanted to see what you saw.”
He wanted to see them because they’d pleased me? God, wouldn’t he be shocked if he knew just how much he…er, the images, pleased me.
