Love and Rumors: A Summer Sisters Beach Reads Contemporary Romance (The Summer Sisters Book 1) (17 page)

This was what Cedric had been talking about. Making a story from nothing, because in reality Finian didn’t seem to be even a speck brokenhearted. And if he was, Hailey certainly wasn’t helping him through it.

She sighed and rested her head on her hands. Damn that Austin. He’d probably gone home with a nice little finder’s fee for putting her in the tabloids.

She pivoted, watching Finian. He’d removed his shirt, his new outfit draped carelessly over the old armchair. He was amazing without a shirt on, having the right amount of muscles, and a nice trail of belly hair that led her eyes down to his crotch. His free hand was clenched into a fist and his shoulders were tense, making the muscles flicker under his skin as they flexed. She quietly grabbed a camera, lining up black-and-white shots. The harsh shadows from the lights by his side left striations along his corded arms, the muscles bulging as he fought for control of the conversation, his emotions, or whatever other demons he was wrestling.

The dark side. It was real.

She set her camera on her desk and turned away as he began moving around the room, touching objects, before stopping in front of the stacks of photos for her show. She was dying to know what kept drawing him back there. This was the third time she’d noticed him drift to them.

He rested a hand on the table, leaning over the photos, eyes focused almost as though he was falling into the top image. Or pulling strength from it.

She shook her head. She was reading too much into it. He just needed something to focus on while he listened to his caller.

“I don’t care if he can’t offer me my usual rate,” Finian said. “He’s an old friend.”

Hailey didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she found herself leaning closer, trying to hear the other side of the conversation.

“I don’t think doing something like that would affect where I am on the pay scale. And it doesn’t set a precedent. It would be a completely different kind of project. Plus, I happen to think I’m at a point where I can branch out.” He paused, then his voice tightened. “I know you are the expert and I pay you to advise me, but last I checked I got to choose my projects.”

He gave another sigh, shoulders dropping in defeat, the fight gone. “I know. No, I appreciate you weighing the two sides of an offer. I know. I don’t have to say yes, but he’s good.” Another pause. “Yeah, but I was a nobody once, too, and he’s going somewhere. I’d like to help him.” Finian was looking at the ceiling now, and Hailey glanced up, as well. Nothing thrilling up there. Not since she’d insulated and transformed this place into her studio, at least.

Finian turned off his phone, gently setting it down. The room was too quiet, but Hailey was afraid to say anything. Finally, he turned to her with a sigh. “You wanted badass?” His voice was laced with fatigue and resignation. He held up a leather jacket. “With or without a shirt?”

C
HAPTER
9

Hailey led Finian into her house. She wanted to tug the leather jacket off Finian and run her mouth down his bare chest, pry his faded jeans open and…

Whoa!
She fanned herself and let him into her en suite to shave for the upcoming shots she had planned.

There was something about photographing a sexy man and having him shoot her smoldering looks that did funny things to her brain. It didn’t help that he had a wicked sense of humor and had her laughing half the afternoon, making it almost impossible to take a nonblurry shot without the aid of a tripod.

“Okay, sexy beast, here’s some shaving gear.”

“Mmm. I like it when you call me that.” He slid a hand around her waist and she bit back a smile, trying to hold on to her slipping professional persona. Hailey wanted to turn in his arms, have him lift her onto the vanity, and then grind against him while consuming him with her mouth.

She handed him a pink towel, a pink razor, and shaving cream. She giggled as he held them out.

“You expect the bad boy of Hollywood to use these?”

She grinned. “Real men can handle pink.”

“Yeah?” He shrugged off his leather jacket, his eyes on hers. She broke contact to let her eyes feast on his bare arms, chest, and back. Heavenly.

He filled the sink with hot water, his moves sure and confident, falling into a routine. He filled his left hand with lavender shaving cream, letting out a sigh that made his shoulders hunch forward ever so slightly. “Purple? Really? Are you trying to kill me?”

“I think lavender will look great with your complexion.”

He smoothed the cream between his hands, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Her own smile faded and she eased toward the door.
Uh-oh.

“I happen to think…” He took two steps toward her, traveling into her bedroom to pursue her. “That
you
would look good…” Two more large steps. “…in
lavender
.”

She squealed and turned, fleeing into the upstairs hallway to get away from him.

He cornered her there, but she dropped to the floor, crawling between his legs to escape into the nearby sitting room. He turned, just missing her as she scrambled, laughing, into the room, ending up trapped in another corner.

Knowing he had her, he licked his lips, moving slowly. Agonizingly slowly.

Her chest heaved as she waited, giggling, half cowering. With two quick moves, he trapped her hands in one of his and lifted them over her head, against the wall.

Gently, he drew a line of shaving cream down her cheek with his free hand, then leaned back, assessing her. “It does suits your complexion, sugar toes.”

“Yeah?”

She bucked halfheartedly against him and he pressed in closer, licking her mouth in a slow, languid move that had heat pouring down through her belly and into the space between her legs. She dropped her head back, and his mouth moved to her neck, kissing, nipping, and holding so much promise she moaned, wishing he’d take her to her bed.

His mouth returned to hers and she poured her passion into him, their hips grinding together as they slid down the wall and onto the floor. They rolled, leaving her on top, and as his shaving-cream-covered hands began tugging at the hem of her shirt, she whipped it off. His eyes were dark pools of lust and longing, and Hailey froze, doubting herself.

What was she doing? She was supposed to be his photographer. He was paying her as a professional. Not for a good time where she could give in to her longings. Especially since this could never be anything more than a fling.

She lowered herself to him, trying to listen to her body and its needs, instead of her mind and its wants.

His hands moved up her skin with purpose, cupping her breasts. He let out a grunt of pleasure and she arched her back, allowing herself to grind against his hardness as he caressed her.

God, this was good.

The doorbell rang and Hailey sucked in a breath, determined to ignore it. She ran her hands down Finian’s chest, showing him she had no plans to stop.

The front door’s hinges creaked as it opened.

Hailey scrambled for her shirt.

Finian, smiling, wiped her face with what was now a bare hand, removing a trail of drying shaving cream. With a wink that looked a lot like a promise, he headed to the bathroom as she checked her shirt for telltale handprints.

“Hailey?” called Simone. “Are you home?”

“Simone?” Hailey quickly adjusted her shirt and smoothed her hair. “I’m upstairs.”

“I’m just dropping off invites for tomorrow’s opening.” Her friend appeared at the top of the stairs. She cast a glance around the sitting room, her dark brown eyes on the lookout. “Why do you have shaving cream on your forehead and shirt?”

“I was, um, shaving my legs.”

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No, nothing,” Hailey said quickly.

Simone gave her a sly grin. “Okay, well, here are your invitations. I’ll see you tomorrow to hang the pics?”

“Yup.”

Simone handed Hailey the stack of postcards and headed down the stairs, saying, “Don’t do anything with him that I wouldn’t!”

Hailey closed her eyes. She was going to end up in the tabloids again if she didn’t get control of her lust and longing for the man she really shouldn’t have.

* * *

Finian was by far the best subject she’d ever had model for her, and it wasn’t just because he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen, or that every time she thought of his kisses her hands shook. She’d taken over a thousand shots of him during the afternoon. An insane amount, but she’d loved every second of it. And if she was honest, she loved having him to herself.

“If all people were as easy and fun to photograph as you are, I would
so
be in the portrait business for life.”

Finian smiled and let out a huge yawn from his spot on the studio floor, where she’d been snapping a few candids of him, freshly shaved.

Okay, so she’d kind of gotten off track with the standard head shot thing. Way off track. She blamed the way he’d revved her engine during his shaving session for that.

“I’m sorry.” She leaned forward, pressing a hand to his forearm. “I’ve exhausted you. You should have told me to stop.”

“I never tell a beautiful woman who’s having fun with my body to stop.” He sent her a wicked grin and she slapped him with her camera’s shutter release cable.

“Ooh. Whips? I would never have guessed.”

Hailey gave him a playful shoulder shove and laughed as he rolled over on the fake bearskin rug, exposing his bare abs. She stood and went to her desk so she wouldn’t be tempted to straddle him, and put her equipment away. When she was done, she grabbed the items she needed to show him the afternoon’s photos.

“Do you want to see the pictures? Say yes,” she prompted. She’d found parts of that layer she’d been looking for. Deep within him. The real Finian. And she’d captured it. “You’re going to be pumped. Blown away.”

“Yes. But no to whips and chains. Not my thing.”

“Ever tried it?” She waggled her eyebrows and laughed when he blushed. “Your reputation is completely inaccurate. My, my. Wait until I tell the world.”

“Image isn’t everything. Or is everything. I can’t remember anymore.” He rolled back onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows and yawned again. He played with a tuft of the fake fur under him. “This rug feels good.”

She tore her eyes away from his near-nakedness, where she’d had him pose like a nude baby on the rug, with a worn pair of jeans gracing his legs and hips. She’d wanted to ask him to take off his pants, to really play up the parody but hadn’t had the courage.

She locked the cabinet that held her camera equipment. “I had fun today.”

They were completely different people, living in different worlds, but they’d connected and bonded for a few hours. And somehow that had chased away her demons so she could enjoy life—her life—if only for a little while.

“Thank you,” she said, nudging his shoulder as he joined her at the computer.

“It was fun, wasn’t it? But you don’t need to thank me. Anytime you want to have fun, I’m your man.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Hailey.” He gripped her face between his hands. “Look at me. There are two Finians. I know you’ve seen both, but you keep assuming the one in the tabloids is the real man. He’s not. This man, here, is real.” He placed her palm on his bare chest, her fingers trembling. “I’m real.”

She bit her lips and worked to keep her emotions at bay. She knew this was the real Finian. It was just hard, the way she was developing feelings for him, because she knew the other—show business—Finian was the one who ruled both lives. And where did that leave her?

Leaning back, she broke contact and turned to her desk. “I kind of got sidetracked with the shoot, but there are some good pictures in here that you can probably use for other purposes. Promo or your website or something.”

Sidetracked was an understatement. She’d slipped further and further off track as the afternoon progressed. The more Finian got into it, roaring with laughter, shooting her playful looks, scowls, and more, the further she’d slipped.

“Does it sound weird to say that I feel I know you better now?” She always did after photographing someone, but this was different. He’d let her into himself. Trusted her like nobody else had.

 
“Maybe it was the way you grilled me about my family and my life as you took photos,” he joked.

“I was getting you to open up.” She’d caught various emotions, whether in his expression or in his body language, which often revealed more than words. His family was close and meant the world to him. That had translated into a softening of his pose, and made the creases in his face vanish. Talking about his agent and career created instant tension, as well as lines at the corners of his mouth. Jessica Cartmill? That had been interesting. His face had remained practically blank when Hailey had asked how his ex was doing, how they’d met. No flash of love, devotion, happiness, or even pain. It was odd. Really odd. Spooky, almost.

“I feel as though I know you better, too,” he said.

“Shall we?” She collected the supplies she needed and opened the garage door.

“I thought we were going to look at the photos?” He slung his bag over his bare shoulder.

“Do you work out a lot?”

“Are you usually this ADHD?”

She laughed. “Let’s get a snack. I’m famished. Plus, we can watch these on my TV in the house. Bigger screen.”

She led him back to the house, tugging his hand to draw him over the threshold faster, in case Austin was lurking outside somewhere. She set Finian in front of the large monitor she used as a television in the living room, and plunked her bag on an armchair.

In the kitchen she made popcorn over the stove, added butter and salt, grabbed two beers and headed to the living room, where Finian was stretched out on her cream-colored sofa, eyes closed.

She grabbed her phone and, unable to resist, snapped a couple shots. He was peaceful, handsome, and more youthful looking now that he’d shaved. Quietly, she set up the monitor so they could flick through the images together, then waved the popcorn under his nose to waken him.

His eyes cracked open and he focused on her blearily. “That smells like it needs to be in my stomach.”