AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“This wouldn’t be another ploy to get me naked now, would it?” he said, his dancing expression settling for aloof.
“Sounds like you’re worried my camera will hone in on your imperfections. Or maybe you just don’t like photographers?”
His face exploded in a smile, changing him so much that once more she felt the heady pull of its tractor beam. Must resist the dazzle.
“Go ahead,” he said. “Do your worst.”
Nineteen
They were supposed to be sharing a bowl of gelato, pressing thighs together, accidentally brushing fingers, while Jack wore her down and got her to agree to a date. That had been the plan, anyway.
So why was he now standing in her tiny living room, skittish as a lobster within kissing distance of a stockpot? It was only a bloody photo. Shoots for magazines and show publicity never failed to bore him, but they didn't make him nervous. The thought of Lili pointing her lens at him made him sweaty-palms, pulse-pounding nervous. As if she needed another weapon to get past his rickety defenses.
The weapon in question, a complicated-looking piece of equipment, lay on a scarred mahogany credenza, exuding menace. Reminding him that he was here because he made a promising subject for her art. An arrangement of facial features that conformed to someone’s standard of handsomeness.
He didn’t want to be a pretty face in her viewfinder; he needed her to see past his image and understand that putting up with a few nasty comments was worth it. That he was worth it.
While she puttered in the kitchen, he perched on the edge of the plush, well-worn sofa, his body taut as bamboo, and cracked his knuckles. The room was choc-a-bloc with funky art pieces. An industrialized, bronze angel loomed in the corner with metal fan blades for wings. To its right, some weird shit that looked like carpet remainders and shellacked egg shells left Jack floundering for adjectives. On the opposite wall, a photo collage sprawled like a half-finished jigsaw puzzle. He recognized Lili's cousins and servers from DeLuca's, all beaming and at ease. Not a single photo of Lili, which didn't bode well for their future in the public eye.
She appeared at his side and handed him a bowl of gelato, the spoon standing to attention in the center like a… Shit, he really needed to get laid.
“That's cool,” he said, nodding at the collage. He suspected it was all cool, but he didn't feel qualified to discuss the more abstract works. “Why aren't there any pictures of you?”
“I prefer to stay behind the camera.”
His follow-up query died on his lips as her low moan transmitted right to the receiver in his boxer briefs.
“Sweet baby Jesus, is this goat cheese?” she asked.
He nodded. More specifically, goat cheese gelato with caramel. The result was tangy like cheesecake; it needed the sweetness of the caramel to even it out.
“I've never tasted anything like it.” She plunked down on the sofa as if her legs might buckle any second. Her thigh brushed his. Excellent.
Her eyes crinkled in a smile as she licked the spoon, and that made his heart flutter right there. Cooking was about crafting an experience, bringing pleasure, creating emotion. Cooking for Lili, cooking with Lili, had given him more joy than anything in recent memory. Jack rarely cooked in his restaurants anymore and it had been a long time since he'd witnessed such genuine reactions to his food. Cooking show guests didn't count.
I’m no longer a chef. I just play one on TV.
Her tongue skated a slow slide across her bottom lip and her shoulders danced a shiver before she put the bowl on the coffee table. She leaned over to the credenza behind her and picked up her camera.
“Ready for your close up?” she asked, turning her sharp gaze on him. All business.
“Let's do it.”
She started out slow with mid-distance shots like she was warming up the camera or maybe her artist's eye. Jack watched in fascination as she stepped outside the woman he had been getting to know and transformed into another person. Focused, absorbed, all her concentration on the task.
“Should I be doing something special?” he asked after a couple of minutes of silence, punctuated by hushed clicks and her soft step as she moved around seeking out new angles.
“Just relax.”
Relax. He rubbed his damp hands against his jeans and flexed his fingers. After a few more tortuous minutes, she slid in beside him and pressed some buttons on the screen, grimacing as she scrolled through the images.
“Am I a difficult subject?”
“No.” She squinted at him, then back at the screen. “You're coming off as a bit tense, though. Is something wrong?”
“I'm just tired. Some harpy kept waking me up every five minutes last night and I didn't get a wink of sleep.”
“Next time, I'll let you fall into that coma.”
