One True Thing (20 page)

same way.

“Can I?” he asked again.

I gave him the only answer I could. “Yes.”

Asher

“SO, DID you ever get your picture taken in high

school? Like for the yearbook?” I asked with a

grin.

Dusty chuckled a bit nervously. I was going to

have to work on that. “Of course. And you are

never
seeing any of those pictures. I looked like

Marilyn Manson.”

“Don’t worry. These won’t be like that

anyway. Hmmm. Let’s go over by the window. I

think I’ll like the sunset combined with your skin

and the color of your hair.” I dragged my good old

chair, the one that so many clients had posed on,

toward the large window on the west side of the

room.

Dusty wandered along behind me. “Are you

sure you want to do this? I mean, I’m not like one

of your models.”

I froze for a second. “What do you mean?” I

hoped something judgmental didn’t come out of his

mouth, because as much as I felt sorry for a lot of

the people on set, some of them were my closest

friends, and I really didn’t want to hear him say

anything bad about them.

He laughed nervously. “Well, they’re all

gorgeous, right? I’m not tall or lanky or hot. Just,

you know, average.”

Oh, that’s it? Thank God.
“You are
not

average. Look at your eyes, and your cheekbones,

they’re so high.” I reached out to run my thumb

along one of them. “I want to get that curve, right

there, with the sun highlighting it. Amazing.”

Dusty shivered at my touch. “Kiss first?”

Like I was going to say no to that. Even

though my fingers were itching to go grab my

camera and catch him on film before the perfect

light had changed, I hadn’t had nearly enough of

kissing him yet. Our noses rubbed for just a

moment, and I swear he smiled before he twined

his slender fingers in my hair and pulled me

closer.

“I love kissing you,” he murmured against my

lips before he tasted me, just lightly, running his

tongue along my lower lip. “You taste good.”

I groaned and added my tongue to the mix,

unable to keep from deepening the kiss. “So do

you.” Like vanilla lip balm and mints and

happiness. I was
so
happy when I was with him.

Dusty rubbed his compact little body up against

mine. It was hard to concentrate on anything but

how much I wanted to slide my hands up under his

shirt and feel his skin.
None of that, yet.
I didn’t

want to ruin what we could be by making a rookie

mistake like pushing him physically.

Eventually we pulled apart, and he sighed

happily, running his own thumbs over my cheeks

and smiling. “Okay, I’m ready.”

I walked him backward and sat him in the

chair. “Wait right here. Let me get my camera

adjusted.” It was impossible not to turn and look.

My usual concentration, camera and subject, was

shattered by the memory of how his lips had felt on

mine and the way he’d moaned into my kiss.

Camera.

“Okay. Just like you are, but lean back. Like

you’re thinking about something.”

Dusty leaned back, and the look on his face

went all dreamy. It was fucking perfect. I wanted

to capture it on film forever. “What are you

thinking about?” I asked as I was clicking. I had to

know.

He smiled softly. “What do you think?”

Oh, God. Camera.

“Here, let’s turn the chair around, and then

you can lean on the back of it.” Dusty complied,

and sat his chin on his crossed arms. He looked

right at me, and it was all there in his eyes—

desire, intensity, and whatever made up that crazy

connection we had, shining right there for me and

my lens to see.

“Y-you look amazing.” I had to clear the

thickness out of my throat. I leaned over and

ruffled Dusty’s hair, like he’d just woken, and

tilted his head to capture the pinky-orange of the

setting sun right on his cheeks. I couldn’t help it. I

ran my thumb over his bottom lip and shuddered

when he kissed it. A few more shots at that angle

and then he stood.

“Where else do you want me?” His voice

was husky.

“Um, how ’bout the easy chair?”
The bed, the

bed. Now, please.

“Why don’t I lie down here instead?” Dusty

crawled onto the bed, the one I’d only ever used

professionally, and stretched himself out until he

looked like every dream I was trying to push down

into my belly before they exploded and I ended up

doing something rash.

“Okay. Um, maybe lie on your back, bend

your legs at the knees?” Dusty gave me the pose I

was looking for, crossing his arms behind his head

and cocking his knees at an angle. His shirt drifted

up, and a few inches of pale, soft skin peeked out. I

wanted to touch his skin, run my tongue along the

seam of his jeans and underneath. I was in
so
much

trouble. Dusty arched his back and stretched,

closing his eyes and parting his lips.

“Asher?”

“Yes?” I barely squeezed out the word. Every

minuscule drop of professionalism I’d been

holding onto with the skin of my teeth flew out the

window.

“Put the camera down and come here.”

I nearly dropped my camera, my prized

possession and the one material thing I’d ever truly

loved, in my haste to get to him. I managed to set it

down on my desk and then scrambled over to

where he was waiting for me, shirt hitched up,

naked lust in his eyes. I wasn’t going to take him

up on that look. Much. But the second we collided

my hand was on the silky skin of his belly and my

mouth was capturing his for the kiss I’d waited too

many long minutes to taste. Dusty slung his leg

over my hips and wriggled in closer.

“Thank God,” he muttered against my mouth. I

loved how he talked when we kissed, how he

wanted me as much as I desperately wanted him,

how every breath, every movement, every little

sexy groan was an effort to get closer to me.

Closer.
Yes.
Dusty pushed on my tank top. I drew

back.

“You sure?” I wanted it. More than I’d ever

wanted anything, but it was so soon.

“Not… I just want to feel your skin.” I knew

he was flustered. He felt bad for suggesting it. I

didn’t want Dusty to feel anything other than how

much I wanted him. I pulled my shirt off and

wrapped my arms around him. It was impossible

to miss his shudder.

“I do want you,” I whispered in his ear.

“Badly. I just want us to be perfect too, you

know?”

“Me too. Both parts.” He ran his fingers

through my hair. I loved how he touched my hair

all the time. It was probably just a professional

habit, like me and my camera, but still. And then I

thought of that night I walked in when he’d been

kissing Archer. He’d had his hands in Archer’s

hair too… and then I thought of my brother.
Shit
.

There was something we needed to clear up.

“Dusty?” I mumbled. I didn’t want to have

that conversation. I wanted to kiss and touch Dusty

until I forgot my dumb brother existed.

“Yeah?” There were nerves in his voice

where there hadn’t been before. I hated that I’d put

them there.

“Listen, I hate to ask this. And most of me

doesn’t want to know… but Archer? Were you

guys—?”

Dusty closed his eyes. “We weren’t really

much of anything. I told you that, right? I wanted

you.”

“No.” I felt my face heat. “Were you guys

sleeping together? I mean, I know you’re not… but

he’s Archer, and I know how he operates.” I

looked away. I hated asking.

Dusty grabbed my hair. “Ash,
no
.” He pulled

my face closer. “Sure, he tried, but it didn’t feel

right.”

“Maybe it’s selfish, but I’m glad. I just…

well, I want you to be mine, and it would’ve been

weird if you were his first.”

Dusty smiled. “I get it. I want you to be mine

too.” He huffed out a laugh. “Already. I never

thought I’d be saying this so soon.”

“Yeah. Two dates. But yesterday felt like

about a million years, so maybe we’ve been

waiting for ages.”

“It did.” Dusty chuckled and leaned up to kiss

me. “So, um, just you and me while we see where

this thing goes?”

“I like that idea.” I pulled at his shirt too.

“Take this off,” I growled into his neck. “I want to

feel your skin.”

Dusty giggled and helped me pull his shirt off.

Then he launched himself at me and kissed me and

tickled me until we were laughing, turned on,

breathless, and rolling around on a bed that I’d

never
be able to take pictures of clients on again.

It was exactly what I’d hoped for. Perfect.

Chapter Nine

Dusty

“HAPPY Birthday, Alice! Come on, baby girl. Can

you blow out the candle? Come on, sweetie. Do it

for Papa.”

Both Erik and I watched as Rue held Alice’s

mini birthday cake aloft in front of her face—Erik

with a certain level of alarm, me with nothing but

amusement. Alice seemed transfixed by the

flickering flame of the candle for a few moments,

but after some more encouragement from Rue, she

made an attempt to blow it out. The attempt

consisted mainly of her pursing her lips and

spitting bubbles all over the top of the cake, but it

was cute.

I laughed and snapped a couple of pictures

with Rue’s digital camera. “Who’s our big girl?” I

cooed. “Who’s the prettiest baby in the world?”

I didn’t care if I sounded ridiculous. I

couldn’t exactly claim to be unbiased, of course,

but I thought Alice already showed signs of

growing into a great beauty. And what were uncles

for if not to dote on their nieces?

“Um,” Erik said over the sound of Rue’s

coaxing and Alice blowing raspberries. “I d-don’t

think she can do it, Rue….”

Rue sighed softly and extinguished the candle

with a small puff of air. He set the cake down on

her tray and pulled the half-melted stick from the

top, bringing it up to his lips and sucking lightly at

the frosting on the bottom. “Good try, sweetie.”

Alice grinned at him and smashed one chubby

fist down, directly into the center of the cake,

splattering her tray with crumbs and frosting. I kept

taking pictures as she demolished the thing,

thankfully getting most of the mess on her tray and

“birthday girl” bib instead of the black and pink

polka dot dress Rue had bought her to celebrate the

occasion.

I looked over at Erik and Rue to see what

they thought of their daughter’s complete

annihilation of the cake Rue and I had spent a

chunk of the morning baking, only to find them

locked in the middle of a kiss. No doubt it had

been inspired by Rue sucking on that candle.

I chuckled and shook my head. Even two

weeks before, seeing them kiss would have

probably sent a stab of envy through my chest. A

lot had changed since then. At that moment, I

couldn’t feel anything but happy for my friends.

“You guys are missing this,” I said, snapping