Read Extreme Close-Up (Perspectives Book 1) Online

Authors: Julie Jaret

Tags: #TUEBL

Extreme Close-Up (Perspectives Book 1) (2 page)

BOOK: Extreme Close-Up (Perspectives Book 1)
11.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Chapter Three

 

“‘
CHUBBY
?’” NATALIE GROWLED. “You did not just say that.”

They were in Lisa’s cozy home office. She shrugged without looking up from her computer, where she was color correcting a photograph of manila folders. “I calls ‘em as I sees ‘em.”

“Then you have funhouse mirrors in your bathroom.”

“Now, that would be cool.”

But Natalie wasn’t finished. “Nobody with two eyes and a functional brain would look at
you
--” she made the universal hand gesture for an hourglass figure, “--and think of Jenny-freaking-Craig.”

Lisa laughed. She appreciated that Natalie wanted her to feel better about herself, but her willowy friend didn’t have post-childbirth hips or boobs that waxed and waned with the moon. She saved the edited photo of manila folders and opened the next: yellow legal pads.

Natalie fell quiet, looking through Lisa’s portfolio. The photos included anything and everything -- plants, railings, storefronts, fire hydrants. With colors popping, most were taken very close-up to accentuate texture and depth. Some were shot so tight, it was nearly impossible to identify the subject of the picture. She stopped to study a photo of something pale, smooth and curvy.

“Should I be concerned that this one’s kinda turning me on?”

“Only if you have an aversion to butternut squash,” Lisa grinned, “but still, you should probably get out more.”

Natalie snorted. “Hello, I’m Kettle. Have we met?”

“Yeah, yeah. Point taken.”

“My dad needs to see these. Can I borrow this?” Natalie patted the photo book.

“Go ahead. So, they haven’t hired anyone to do the portraits?” Lisa tried to hide her relief. Her bank account had dropped below the “art vs. commerce” threshold, and she was considering offers from lenders who wanted her soul.

“Not yet, but I think this will help them decide,” Natalie closed the book. “If you can make vegetables look human, imagine what you could do for attorneys.”

Lisa laughed.

Natalie didn’t. “I wasn’t joking.”

Lisa felt a little better about her chances for survival as she walked Natalie to the door. At least she did, until Natalie stepped outside and gasped.

“Oh my. You hired a gardener?” They stared across the yard to where Braden was clipping a hedge, mouthwatering even at a distance. “Suddenly the view from my high-rise condo holds much less appeal.”

They watched him stretch to cut a long branch overhead. His broad, sweat-glistened back tapered to a narrow waist, then flared to a hint of rounded ass where his shorts hung low. Lisa had the unwelcome thought that his shorts were probably not the only thing that hung low on him.

“That’s Elena’s son, Braden.”

“No shit?”

“Yeah. He’s all grown up, now.”

“I noticed.”

Braden must’ve felt their eyes on him. He froze a moment then looked over and smiled, raising the clippers in greeting. Lisa waved back.

“As your lawyer and best friend, it’s my expert opinion that you should totally hit that.”

She looked at her friend and snorted, “Right. You’re insane.”

“Eye for an eye,” Natalie shrugged as they turned down the stone path toward the driveway.

“He’s twenty-three. I’ve got clothes older than that,” Lisa argued. “Nothing that fits, but still.”

As soon as Natalie’s car disappeared from view, Lisa went back inside and poured a tall glass of iced tea for Braden. When she brought it out to him, he stopped bagging cuttings and took off his sunglasses. She was dressed in old cut-offs and a t-shirt since she was working from home today, and in the heartbeat before his eyes met hers, she could’ve sworn his warm gaze flickered over the rest of her.

“Is that for me?” His smile made Lisa’s mouth go dry.

“Yes, and you’re doing too much,” she said, handing him the glass. With the condensation left on her hand, she patted her face and neck in a futile effort to cool down.

“I disagree. Respectfully,” he said, accepting the tea and holding it up in a toast to her. He drank deeply, downing half the glass in one draw. “Thanks, Ms. Taylor. You know I’ve always loved your iced tea.” He licked his lips.

“I remember, but I wish you’d let me pay you in something other than tea.”

Braden’s pupils dilated like he was locked onto prey, and Lisa immediately realized how bad that sounded. Well, it sounded pretty
good
, but it wasn’t something she would ever intentionally say. Especially not to him.

“Shit. That came out wrong,” she said with an embarrassed laugh.

Braden melted her with a grin and handed her the empty glass. “Thanks again for the tea.” His eyes were still dark as they disappeared behind his sunglasses.

When Lisa brought the glass inside, she opted to hand-wash it instead of putting it in the dishwasher. Because saving water and energy was good for the planet. She couldn’t help that the kitchen window looked out over the yard.

That evening after dinner, she was trying and failing to keep her mind on her work (color correcting photos of mechanical pencils) when the doorbell rang. En route to answer it, she caught a glimpse of a broad shoulder and muscled arm through the sidelight window sheer. She’d been resolute in her determination not to trot back outside with more tea that afternoon, and now she scolded herself for wishing she had time to change out of the cut-offs and tee she’d had on all day.

Why the palpitations?
It’s just Brady Healey, Elena and Chet’s son.

Jake’s babysitter.

Vance’s step-son.

She was able to get her breathing under control in time to open the door.

“Hi,” she smiled. “It’s only been like five hours. Nothing grows that fast, not even my weed farm back there.” She leaned a hip against the doorjamb and tried to look relaxed, like any other mom chatting with an old friend of her son. She hoped he hadn’t been reading her mind all afternoon.

Braden grinned, those gorgeous eyes twinkling at her. “I wouldn’t be so sure, but that’s not why I’m here.”

“No?” Lisa noticed he ends of his hair were wet and he smelled of woodsy soap. Something long-dormant stirred awake in her core.

“Do you know when you last changed your air filter?”

She blinked. “Oh. They probably did it when I had my oil changed, why?”

“I mean the one in your house.”

“There’s one in my house?”

He chuckled. “Yeah.”

Lisa let him in and followed him down the hall to an air vent thingie she had passed a million times and never really noticed. She was mortified when he removed the cover and pulled out a big flat square of filth.

“Oh my god! How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.” Braden put the filter back and promised to pick up a replacement the next day. Once again he refused to accept Lisa’s money, but as he tightened the screws on the vent she slid her last $20 into his back pocket.

“That was disgusting. Guess it’s one of the things Vance used to take care of.” She saw Braden’s mouth tighten at the mention of her ex-husband’s name.

“If you ask me, Vance didn’t take care of the right things.” He stood, brushing off his hands. “Not that you asked me.”

Even back when he was just a beautiful boy, Lisa felt something in Braden’s eyes was disconcertingly
knowing
. He locked them on her now, and she remembered why she often avoided eye contact with him when he was a kid. Because he made her never want to look away.

She faked a chuckle and turned down the hall. “It’s okay. I’m not exactly president of his fan club, either.” That was the understatement of the decade, but she had wasted enough hours bitching about Vance to Natalie and anyone else who would listen. She didn’t need to unload it all again on his stepson.

Braden followed her to the door. “It’ll be good to have a break from him for a few weeks.”

“Oh, he’s back in the New York office?” During her marriage, Lisa and Jake had had the house to themselves for weeks at a time when Vance traveled for work. In the beginning, she even missed him. Now she wondered if he had actually left town at all.

“No, vacation. They’re going to Europe.”

Lisa gave a harsh laugh. “For three weeks? You’re kidding.” For the better part of their marriage, she’d tried to persuade Vance to go to Europe, but he insisted he had no interest in traveling outside the U.S. Not to mention, “He said his last child support payment was late because they had to get some work done on the house.”

Braden scowled, “Well yeah, if by ‘having to get some work done’ he meant gutting and remodeling the kitchen with the SubZero my mom had to have.” He was clearly angry at Vance and Elena on Lisa’s behalf and it made her want to hug him.

She backed a step away. “Ah, Elena...” she smiled ruefully.

“You must hate her.” He was watching closely for a reaction, so Lisa simply shrugged.

“I thought I did, but really I just hated the situation. She is who she is.”

“She’s a spoiled brat.”

“She’s your mom,” Lisa said firmly, because she thought she should.

“You’re not disagreeing.”

“No, I’m not. She’s a brat.”

His answering grin was way too sexy for Lisa’s own good. She knew he would be repulsed if he had any idea how her body was responding to him, how very
aware
of him she was.

She thought back to the boy he was and remembered, “You were a pretty big brat, too, as I recall.”

He laughed, nodding. “Yeah, I can see why you’d think so. I had my reasons.”

Lisa imagined those reasons had something to do with football and/or the legions of girls who had followed him around as long as she’d known him. She was going to say as much, but he’d gone quiet.
He probably wants to get the hell out of the depressing old lady’s house
.

She opened the door, schooling her face as she smiled up at him, “Braden, thanks for all your--”

“Did you ever fuck my dad?”

The blurted question came out like it had simmered on the stove too long and suddenly boiled over. In the deafening silence that followed, Lisa got the impression he hadn’t intended to speak the words aloud. Frozen with her hand on the doorknob, she had about a million follow-up questions, but bit them all back.

“No.” With relief, she dropped the facade of polite distance and relaxed. “You want some tea?”

“I’d take a beer,” he grinned. A
man’s
grin.

She considered a moment, then closed the door and led him to the kitchen.

Chapter Four

 

LISA HANDED BRADEN an icy bottle and opened another for herself.

“Hope Blue Moon is okay.”

“It’s great, thanks.”

Lisa braced herself for eye contact -- or what she now thought of as “the eye thing.” She didn’t fool herself that she was anything special, but when he looked at her it felt like she was the only other person on the planet, and like some part of him entered through her eyes, swirled down deep in her body, and licked her clit from inside. And if she were to be totally honest (which she wasn’t ready to do just yet), the boy he’d been did the eye thing to her, too.

So she was disappointed -- er,
relieved
-- when instead, he crossed the kitchen for a closer look at a framed photograph on the wall. She took a swallow of the cold beer and closed her eyes in a moment of bliss. This six-pack had probably been in her fridge the better part of a year, since drinking alone was stigmatic and depressing. Opening her eyes, she found him still studying the photo.

“It’s a park bench.”

“How can you tell?” He cocked his head at the colorful lines and twisted shadows.

“I took it when I visited a friend in Austin a while ago.”

“You took this?” Braden glanced at the scribbled signature in the bottom corner, then turned those inquisitive eyes on her. “I love it. It looks like something that should be hanging in a gallery.”

“Thanks,” Lisa beamed and tried not to squirm. He had zapped both her clit and her ego in one shot that time.

“Do you have any more?”

“Beer?”

“No, more pictures like this.”

Before she knew it, they were in up in her office. She leaned against her desk and toyed with the wet label on her beer, watching him make his way around the room from one framed photo to the next. The portfolio Natalie borrowed included all of these and a lot more, and for a moment she regretted lending it out.

Braden stopped to study the voluptuous squash that had turned Natalie on earlier. He turned a sly look at Lisa and grinned, “Wish I was there when you took this one, Ms. Taylor.”

She held a straight face. “Oh? So you’re a big fan of squash, then?”


Squash?
” He laughed, cocking his head for a different perspective. “That’s awesome. Guess I’m a big fan of
this
squash, anyway.”

“I’d introduce you, but she’s long gone. Sucks, ‘cause you guys could’ve been really good together.”

Braden grinned and dropped onto her old red velour sofa. She had bought it for her first apartment, long before she met Vance. It was outdated enough to be called “retro” and was really too big for her office, but the more Vance pushed her to get rid of it, the more tightly she’d hung on.

“I love the way you see things,” he said, unknowingly doing the eye thing as he tipped back his beer.

Lisa was getting used to breathing normally, despite the throb he caused between her legs. Good thing, too, because the only thing more embarrassing than a middle-aged woman hot for a guy half her age would be the horrified look on his face if he knew.

He gestured with his bottle, “So this is what you do? You take these great pictures and... what? How does it work? I bet you sell a ton of them.” His free hand absently petted the soft velour on the sofa arm, and Lisa found herself jealous of a piece of fucking furniture.

“I wish. They’re up on a few stock photo websites, but sales are weak. I photograph office equipment and supplies for catalogues. That’s my real job.” Her attempt to inject some enthusiasm into the words failed miserably.

“Sounds like you meant to say your ‘real
boring
job.’”

“Maybe so,” Lisa laughed, “but I can take the most gorgeous picture of pencil erasers you’ll ever see. How ‘bout you?”

He grinned. “Selfies on my phone, that’s about it for me.”

She sat at the other end of the sofa. “You know what I mean. What’s next for you?”

“Hell if I know,” he sighed. He had been nursing his beer, but downed half of it now. “I wanted to go into sports medicine, but I was probably concussed when I thought of it.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Brady.
Braden
. You didn’t major in biology by accident.”

He wiped a sheepish grin off his face with a big hand. “Damn, I missed you, Ms. Taylor. You’re still the only one who never bought the act.”

She raised her eyebrows and waited for him to continue.

He stared at the beer dangling from his fingers and took a deep breath. “I’ve always loved the game of football, ever since I started playing Pop Warner when I was five. I broke my arm for the first time when I was seven -- landed on it in the end zone and the ball rolled away from me. The clock ran out and we lost and I never heard the end of it.” A muscle ticked in his jaw before he polished off the beer. “In middle school, I could look at an x-ray of my shoulder and tell you which tendon was strained or torn. By high school, I’d sprained or broken most of my fingers, broken the other arm, strained my Achilles and had shoulder tendonitis.”

Jake had dragged Lisa to some of Braden’s high school games and she recalled the intensity with which he played. She’d felt it all the way up in the stands. “I remember the arm,” she nodded. “Jake was so excited you let him be the first to sign your cast.”

“Of course I did,” he smiled with a matter-of-fact shrug, like there was never any question. “High school was crazy. I came in as backup quarterback for varsity, but then the seniors got busted at that party and coach bumped me to starter...” His smile faded. “I’d never seen my dad so happy. Not even at Steph’s wedding.”

Lisa had attended Braden’s sister’s wedding. In fact, she and Vance had been seated at Elena and Chet’s table along with Stephanie’s new in-laws. Stephanie was a pretty girl and a beautiful bride who took after her mother in both looks and demeanor. Lisa didn’t know her well, as she was five years older than Braden and had her own social life by the time the families became friends.

And it was only a couple months after Stephanie’s wedding when Vance and Elena broke up their respective families and came out with their affair.
Good times...

Lisa’s jaw hurt and she realized she was clenching.

Braden continued, “So of course, I kept working and training, and when I got to UGA they started me at quarterback after two games.” He shook his head at the memories. “For a while, I thought I’d won and lost everything on that field.”

“Not anymore?”

“No. I still love the game of football, but the
job
of football sucks. I hated it. That last tackle did me a favor.”

Lisa was enjoying the conversation, and the twelve ounces of beer in her system felt pretty good. She took his empty bottle and asked, “Want another?”

He rocked her with a half-smile. “Sure, if you’re not sick of me yet.”

“Not yet,” she shrugged.

They took their fresh beers to the family room and sat on adjacent sides of the sectional. Lisa picked up the conversation thread. “Okay, so have you applied to med school or what?”

“Med school?” Braden’s laugh sounded forced. “I was thinking of physical therapy, not med school.”

“And I was thinking you were done trying to bullshit me.”

He winced. “Habit. Sorry.” He slid off the couch to sit against it on the plush area rug. “Yes, I’d love to go to med school, and no, I haven’t applied. My grades in core classes were good enough, but I bombed the MCAT -- you know, the admission exam.”

“Huh,” she lowered herself to the floor and pulled down a cushion to lean on. “That’s the first thing you’ve said that surprised me.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t study.”

“So take it again.”

“I was gonna...” He broke eye contact and studied his beer. “But c’mon. I’m smart for a jock, but I’m no med student.”

“Never thought I’d hear Chet’s voice come out of your mouth.”

Braden chuckled. “My dad did say it first, yeah.”

“God, he’s an asshole.” Almost two beers down, the words were out before it occurred to Lisa not to say them. “Oops. Sorry.” She felt a little bad about it. Well, not really.

“No, you’re right. He is.”

“Can’t believe you thought I slept with him.”

“More like I wanted to be sure you didn’t.”

“He’s just such a...”

Braden laughed. “An asshole, yeah. But that doesn’t mean he’s wrong.”

“Okay maybe it doesn’t exactly follow logically, like ‘Chet’s an asshole,
ergo
, he’s wrong about whether you’re med school material.’ But he still is.”

He stared at her face, considering her over the bottle as he took a long swallow.

Lisa felt the throbbing down below and pressed her thighs together. For once, she was thankful for her dark brown eyes, knowing they helped camouflage the lust that dilated her pupils.

He lowered his bottle. “I remember those conversations we used to have. Kinda like this. You were always the one person who’d talk to me... listen to me. Everyone else only cared about the quarterback.”

“I saw that.”

“We had some marathons, huh? Up at the lake?”

Lisa remembered all too well. “Vance picked a fight with me after one of those marathon talks.” She caught herself clenching her jaw again. “He accused me of flirting with our best friends’ kid.”

His eyebrows shot up. “With me? You did not,” he scowled. “Vance is an asshole, too. For many reasons.”

“That he is,” Lisa grinned and rubbed her jaw.

Braden frowned. “What’s that about? Do you have TMJ?”

“No,” she shrugged. “I just clench my teeth a lot when I’m stressed.”

He nodded. “Right. That’s TMJ.” He moved closer, but stopped with his fingers mere inches from her face. “Do you mind?”

She shook her head because she didn’t trust her voice with him kneeling this close and smelling this good.

He expertly walked his fingers along the edges of her jaw and up almost to her cheekbones then pressed lightly with his thumbs. “Is this where it hurts?”

“Yes.”

He massaged small circles with his thumbs, cradling her head in his hands. “These are your masseter muscles and they run from here--” He placed his thumbs above her cheekbones and smoothed them down to the bottom edges of her jaw, “--down to here.”

Lisa was dimly aware of him explaining bone structure, and where and how to massage to relieve the ache in her jaw. She was even aware enough to be impressed with his knowledge and manner. Mostly, she was aware of the way his Cupid’s bow dimpled his top lip and how it moved as he spoke. And she noticed that the pulse in her clit was like a heartbeat and she briefly wondered if it was somehow
his
heartbeat traveling from his thumbs, through her face and down into the wet crotch of her panties. And she also realized she was breathing very deeply, because when she did she could smell the spice of his skin behind that woodsy soap.

And then he brushed a thumb across her lips and she stopped breathing altogether.

BOOK: Extreme Close-Up (Perspectives Book 1)
11.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Dangerous Duke by Arabella Sheraton
Red Gold by Alan Furst
The Order of Odd-Fish by James Kennedy
Daring Her Love by Melissa Foster
His Forever (His #3) by Wildwood, Octavia
Need Me by Cynthia Eden
The Hostage Prince by Jane Yolen
Hard Case Crime: House Dick by Hunt, E. Howard