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“Absolutely. We’ve done several other players already. I thought we’d capitalize on his intensity,” she says.
“So, no smiling or ‘say cheese’, right?”
“I know better than to try and pull that,” she says, laughing. “Finn Holbrook—he’s a smiler. Jericho? Smiler. I think I even got one out of Dallas Burke. But there’s no chance of that with Grayson Hawke, and frankly, I prefer it that way. He’s more intimidating and attractive with that serious furrowed brow.”
Amen, sister.
“Now, our first model.” She looks at Scarlett. “What is your name?”
“Scarlett.”
Kim looks impressed. “Nice name. Will you be my test subject?” She holds up the camera and shakes it at her.
“Really?!” Scarlett jumps into action, and I wander over to a nearby seating area and sit down, watching as Kim takes test shots of Scarlett, who strikes a pose like a pro. I lean back on the small loveseat when I catch movement in my peripheral vision.
It’s Gray in the dressing room, and he’s halfway through changing his clothes. My gaze lingers on the contours of his well-defined chest and the tingling is back in my body. I should look away or get up or go splash cold water on my face, but I can’t move. It’s not the first time I’ve seen him shirtless, but I think he gets more attractive every time.
It’s a theory I’m willing to test.
For science.
He shifts, turning to the side to grab the jersey off the hanger, and when he does, he catches me watching him in the mirror.
I’m fully staring at his naked chest, and he knows it.
His gaze holds me hostage, and despite his warning only an hour ago, I’m thinking about his hands, his eyes, his lips—
“Do you want something to drink?” Misty steps in front of me, severing my view and knocking me right back to reality, which is where I need to be.
I pull at my collar like a man wearing a suit in a sauna. I push myself up to my feet. “No, thanks. I’m good.”
She smiles, and if she noticed me staring, she doesn’t let on.
Gray doesn’t let on either. When he walks out of the dressing room, he’s dressed in his hockey gear and looking just as good fully clothed as he did bare-chested. How does he do that?
Oh, right. It’s his face.
But the attraction turns into something else entirely when he reaches for Scarlett, hoisting her up into his arms like she’s still young enough to be held and weighs absolutely nothing.
She goes along with it, wrapping her arms around his neck as he holds her completely upside down and backwards. She’s giggling all her adorable little girl giggles, and everything in Gray’s demeanor shifts. His love for her is so obvious, it cracks me open and tears me up inside. All at once, I understand his pain of being away from her. His attitude when he first got here makes perfect sense.
Kim snaps a few photos of the two of them together, and I see them pop up on a nearby monitor. One of the guys from earlier is watching the images as they light up the screen, and I take a few steps closer.
In the midst of their joking around, Kim managed to catch a tender moment between them. I can see the joy on Scarlett’s face and the pure love on Gray’s. It’s magic.
I’m praying Kim doesn’t think this is odd—that it’s somehow too familiar for a pro and his “adoring fan.”
She doesn’t seem to, as she points at a lighting stand and looks over at one of the guys, who nods and gives a thumbs-up. She then turns back to the posing duo.
“All right, Miss Scarlett,” Kim says. “You were brilliant.”
Scarlett, upside down again, says, “I’ll have my people call your people.”
The whole room laughs at the precocious audacity, and I do too. She’s a stitch.
“Fair enough! But I think Mr. Hawke is ready for his close up.”
He sets Scarlett down, and she runs over to where I’m standing.
