Love and Rumors: A Summer Sisters Beach Reads Contemporary Romance (The Summer Sisters Book 1) (7 page)

All the more reason she should work with him. And why shouldn’t she? He’d be a great addition to her portfolio.

She faced him more fully, her lips moist and entirely kissable. If she had been even halfway willing…

But he had her attention. About time.

Now he could take it home. Make the connection. Get her on his side.

“I bet you hear a lot of ‘how much is a nice relaxing shot that would fit over my new couch? Preferably something that goes with my beige décor and is already framed?’ ”

She let out a snort, which told him she’d heard versions of that line plenty of times. The hitch in her shoulders relaxed a notch and he took the opportunity to slip Jamie money for her drink.

“You going to the concert tonight?” he asked.

“At The Kee?”

“Yeah. That big old-fashioned dance hall place? I still can’t believe the bands they bring out here in the woods. It’s unheard of.”

“They’ve been doing it since Duke Ellington’s time.”

“So, you going? Do you like Vapid Magpie?”

“I do, but they’re sold out. I didn’t have…” She shook her head.

“Have what?”

“The opportunity to get tickets when they went on sale,” she said quickly, taking a gulp of her beer.

“I could get you tickets.”

She laughed. “They sold out ages ago.”

Finn leaned back, surprised at the edge in her voice. She was daring him, challenging him to surprise her with tickets. He could feel it. She really liked this band. Or she really liked him.

His bet was on the band, even though he wanted to bet on himself.

“Will you go with me if I get tickets?”

She echoed his movements, head tilted.

Damn, she was intriguing.

“Why?” she asked.

He slipped closer, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered, “Why not?”

There was a lot of promise in his voice, and he noted the way her pupils darkened. She was tempted.

But nope, he’d gone too far again. She was closing up like a flower at dusk. Damn. He couldn’t be this patient. He had days, not a lifetime. She had too tight of a rein on herself, and it would take too long to get her to loosen up.

But he had a little time. Time enough to see how far he could get tonight. He knew where her line was now and he could patiently play to it each and every time, breaking her down slowly and surely. Reel her in. Push her out, pull her in. Temptation, temptation. Sweet, sweet sexy temptation.

A girl could hold out for only so long.

Before she could leave, he pulled two tickets out of his back pocket, raising his eyebrows in question. It was time for do or die. He wasn’t famous for nothing. Strings were something he could pull. And everyone had strings.

“Meet me outside The Kee at nine.” He slipped off his stool, leaving her hand outstretched as she reached for the tickets.

Nailed it.

When her face became a mask of something a lot like righteous anger, he went in for the kill. He rested a warm hand on her knee, watched her sharp intake of breath as her eyes fluttered shut for a split second. He tried not to grin. Anger and passion were so closely related that it made the game dangerous. And thrilling.

There would be no boredom in Muskoka as long as she was in his sights.

Meeting her blue-eyed gaze, nothing held back, he said, “Enjoy your life, sugar toes. If you don’t let go and enjoy it every once in a while, you’re living for nothing.” He brushed her ear with his lips, the sensation of falling off a cliff rushing through him as he left her, barely daring to breathe.

C
HAPTER
3

Hailey couldn’t believe the gall of Finian Alexander. Where did he get off? She’d slapped his face, come back to apologize, and he’d turned around and invited her to a sold-out concert of her favorite band after she’d misread his intentions.

Going to a concert was almost like a date. But it wasn’t a date. He was a rich movie star; she was a nobody. She wasn’t falling for this vacation game again. Not after Jake, who acted as though he was totally into her up until the moment he went back to the city at the end of the summer, dropping her and all his promises as if she was just some gal who couldn’t take a hint. Why would Finian Alexander be any different?

He was lonely, looking for a fling, and she was the first woman to catch his eye.

Talk about overconfident, if he thought taking her to a concert would convince her to fall into his bed or allow him to exploit her abilities as a photographer. She’d seen him eyeing her photo card, and the rich and famous were always the stingiest. They seemed to believe she should be honored to photograph them pro bono, as if having them in her portfolio was a privilege. Yeah, well, little did they know that she’d won plenty of photography contests and awards without their ugly mugs. Contests that helped pay the bills.

Flopping down in front of her laptop, Hailey clicked the upload button to send new photos to her agent, Cedric Zimmerman. He often sent her a biweekly laundry list of requested nature photos from magazines, knowing she had no interest in capturing celebrity dirt when it came her way. But now she had dirt. Well, maybe not dirt, but dust at the very least. And she wanted to sell it. Fast.

She clicked to add the photos she’d taken with her phone that afternoon, then shook her head. At one point she’d thought she’d seen a glimmer of humanity in Finian’s eyes. But that was ridiculous. He was the kind of man who charmed and played the game until he got what he wanted. But he wasn’t going to get it from her. He could whisper in her ear in a way that made her nerve endings perk up, but there was no way Hailey was going to fall for his games. Love her? Leave her? No way.

Not now. Not ever.

The way he exuded confidence and sexuality made him just like all the other rich boys she’d met growing up. The summer men. So full of themselves it made her want to slap them in order to bring them down a notch and prove she was more than some plaything to make their pretty lives even easier as they vacationed in their fancy cottages, then left when the summer ended with never a glance back.

It was her time to come out ahead.

Hailey finished the upload and sat back, popping a mint Mentos in her mouth. She checked the time. She could show up at The Kee to Bala. See what he’d do. She let out a chuckle. It might be funny, watching him try to recall who she was, and if he had really invited her. Because by the time the concert rolled around he’d probably have tried to get into three more skirts with the lure of the tickets.

And if Hailey did manage to get inside, she’d ply him with drinks and wait for him to be the jerk she knew he really was. Then she’d whip out her camera phone, take some unflattering images and sell them. Ta-da! Cottage saved. Happily ever after, while he blissfully resumed his car-crash life.

A message from Cedric popped up on her monitor.
Calling you
.

Yes!

She snagged her ringing phone.

“Tell me the good news,” she said. She held her breath and swiveled her chair back and forth, trying to burn off her excitement.

“What the hell are these shots?” her agent asked.

“What do you mean?” She drifted into a nearby armchair she’d picked up from the antique barn on Highway 118.

“You’re a nature photographer. A damn good one, and making decent money for your stage of the game. For someone making art.”

“And?”

“Don’t go blowing your reputation with some half-done celebrity shots.”

Ouch.

“These are as good as what I’ve seen online.”

“What are you doing, Hailey? We’ve spent years getting you into good galleries. I know I hounded you on this whole art thing, but why the hell are you going this route now that you’re making a name for yourself and winning awards? Do you need money for some drug habit I don’t know about?”

“You sell shots like this all the time, right?”

Cedric hesitated. “I do, but I don’t understand.”

“Can you sell these?”

He sighed, and she could picture him tugging his ear as he thought how to reply. “You need to shoot a story, Hailey. There isn’t a story in these. There’s a learning curve to being a celebrity chaser, believe it or not. So, if you are in need of cash, maybe we can set up another show, or find a magazine. Want me to call
National Geographic
?”

“Yes, but there is a story.” She needed more than some small show, months down the road, or a few photos for
National Geographic
. She glanced through the pictures she’d selected. They were all beautifully lined up. The light had held out for most of them and the one of Finian rolling up the vintage Jag’s window was only a bit grainy because of the clouds, rain, and distance. The one of him holding the door to the bar was slightly blurry because he’d slapped her butt. But the tabloids never seemed to care about quality.

“A man rolling up a car window. Holding a door open for someone. These aren’t stories.”

“But it’s a total contradiction,” Hailey protested. “Surely that’s exciting?”

“Would you buy a magazine with these on the cover?”

“No,” she said with a sigh. “But I’d be intrigued.”

“So, be intrigued. Even celebrities who lack manners can hold a door open for someone, Hailey. You need to capture shots of him doing unbelievable things.”

Funny, she thought she had.

She narrowed her eyes, staring at the images of Finian. He was a mystery. One she needed to uncover and reveal to the world, one photo at a time. There was a layer he was hiding, and she’d expose it while giving him a nice big dose of reality. Oh, and making herself rich in the process.

“I’m on it, Cedric. In fact,” she said with a chuckle, “he’s expecting me.” And how much more perfect could that be?

* * *

Finn sat at the small desk in his rented cottage and stared at the blank page framed in sunflowers in front of him. Sighing, he pushed away his nonexistent plan for pulling Sugar Toes into his devious scheme to get into the tabloids with a new adventure. Instead, he picked up the old guitar he’d had delivered to his room. It looked as though it belonged to one of the employees. Well-worn. Stickered. And completely out of tune. Just the way he liked it.

He adjusted the sound to match his mood, his skills. He glanced at the card Sugar Toes had given him. Hailey Summer. Pretty name. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten in this deep without knowing it. Hailey. He liked the way her name rolled off his tongue.

Focusing on the out-of-tune instrument, he ignored how he was slowing down the song as though smothering it. He played “Drooping Flags” by Vapid Magpie, knowing they’d sing it tonight. He played the simple riff again, and again. It was easy enough. If he stuck with the bass, he could almost make it sound untortured.

Almost.

Would Hailey show up tonight? Or would she chicken out? Would he be the man waiting outside the hall to see if he’d been rejected? But the bigger question was, why had he so willingly put himself in this position? People waited for
him
, not the other way around. She hadn’t even tried to turn the tables on him. It was as though he’d taken all his power and control, put it in a nice little shopping bag and handed it to her.

He put the guitar away, no closer to having a plan. How could he convince someone like Hailey to use her photography skills against him?

He walked to the window and stared out at the dark blue lake, rocky shoreline and wind-worn trees. If he’d been smart, he would have stirred her up, leaving her pissed off and longing for him. Then her anger could do the rest.

He punched the air, then shoved his hands through his short hair. He needed her to go paparazzo on him. Asking her out had been stupid, stupid, stupid. Derek was right; Finn shouldn’t be here alone. Left to his own devices, he’d never get into the tabloids.

Finn paced the room, head down, thinking. He was sure he’d seen a desperate need within Hailey. He’d thought it was for money, but when he’d asked if she did portraits, she’d said only when she was hard up for cash. And she hadn’t leaped at the chance to work with him. Hadn’t gone all breathy and said
Yes!
Instead, she’d thought he wanted nude photos. He let out a laugh.

Talk about assuming opposite things.

So was she a bad businesswoman? Or was having a movie star in one’s portfolio not as big of a deal as he’d thought?

Maybe she was famous in her own right. Maybe she was an incredible, sought-after photographer and he’d insulted her. He touched her card, letting his fingers linger over her name. How many run-ins had they had today? And he’d been so tuned out that he hadn’t even asked her her name—not once. How had he gotten used to knowing people before he met them, all of them famous? Or else having people immediately introduce themselves, eager to get on his radar? How had that become normal?

He was losing little things from real life, such as introductions. How to carry on a conversation. How not to be a jerk.

Reality was a sweet reminder of how far he’d climbed. But his new life left him living in a land where nothing was real.

He snatched up his phone as it rang, hoping, for some strange reason, that it was Hailey.

“Finian?” asked the female voice.

His mother.

“Mom, how’s it going?”

“I prayed for you at church today.”

“Why?” he asked, cringing. There were so many things for her to pray about. She read the tabloids, and while she was usually able to write another story for what was pictured, sometimes she couldn’t.

“For your broken heart. Why don’t you come home? I’ll bake cookies. We’ll walk Rex. We’ll talk. You must be exhausted.”

“Mom, my heart isn’t broken.”

“You were with her for over a year. Of course it is.”

“Mom, did it look like I was actually in love with Jessica?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hey, here’s an idea. Why don’t you and Dad join me here?”

“What would we do with Rex? I read the papers and they said—”

“I was in the papers?”

“Last week. This week it’s just one-liners here and there saying you’re hiding out from the pain. Come home. We’ll take care of you.”

Finn pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mom…” He tried to be patient. “I’m okay, really. And don’t believe what you see in the papers or hear on the news. Any of that. I’m still me. I’m still your boy.” Well, mostly.