Page 70 of Blame It on the Bikini
"I'd be walking away from months of work. I'd have nothing to show for my time," he argued. "I can't quit."
"Then you'll have to keep plugging holes in a sinking ship. Maybe you stop the ship from going under, but will that ship be something you're proud of?" Frank picked up a rag and began wiping down his hands. "There's a difference between persistence and stubbornness. Persistence is when you keep working toward your goal despite obstacles. Stubbornness is when you keep working toward a goal that no longer exists."
He smiled. "That might be the best advice anyone has ever given me."
"Well, most people don't take my advice," Frank said with a laugh. "But you have it, for what it’s worth. Now, are you ready to get your hands dirty?"
Before he could answer, his gaze caught on Lexie walking through the parking lot, and his body tightened at the sight of her. She wore a simple white T-shirt knotted at her waist and denim shorts with frayed hems that showed off her tanned legs. She had a leather portfolio tucked under her arm.
"How's it going?" she asked, pausing a few feet away, her eyes moving between the two men.
"We just finished the final engine adjustments," Frank said.
As Frank added other details to expand on his answer, he found himself staring at Lexie. He couldn't hear what Frank was saying because his heart was pounding in his head. She was so damn beautiful. What the hell was he doing staying away from her?
Lexie's attention was wavering the longer Frank's answer went on, her gaze darting to his, and there was something electric in the air between them as they had an unspoken conversation.
He wanted to walk over to her, pull her close, and kiss her sweet, sexy mouth.
But he couldn't. Not with Frank watching, not with everything so complicated between them.
"Lexie?" Frank's voice turned sharper, breaking their connection.
"Yes?" she asked a little breathlessly.
"Are you coming to the car show tomorrow?" Frank asked, seemingly oblivious to the tension crackling between his two companions.
"Wouldn't miss it," Lexie replied, though her eyes never left Grayson's face. "I love seeing all the restored classics."
"Good. Grayson is going to ride with me in the parade."
She smiled. "That should be fun. I'll be sure to get a photo of that."
"Speaking of photos," he said, tipping his head toward her portfolio. "Are those the photographs you took at Joshua Tree?"
"It's a small selection of photos from the caves and Joshua Tree. I wanted to show the gallery what I'm working on."
"Can I see?" he asked, feeling a desperate need to keep her close.
"Sure."
She pulled out several prints, and both he and Frank stepped closer to take a look.
The first photo captured the twisted Joshua trees, the otherworldly rock formations, and the dramatic desert light. The second photo was from the caves—not the one of him, but another of a gold chain hanging from a dark, rocky crevice, the contrast between the sparkle and the edgy darkness creating a story that everyone would want an answer to. And the third photo was the most surprising.
It had been taken at the lodge he'd gone to investigate, the one with the faded neon sign, the cracked stucco and drained pool, the weed-filled former garden. She'd captured something haunting and beautiful in its decay, with desert wildflowers growing through cracks in the concrete. It was a place that could be brought back to life, full of possibility rather than just deterioration.
"Wow," he said quietly. "These are incredible." He wasn't just seeing the photos; he was seeing her in the images, her creativity, her unique way of looking at life.
"I agree," Frank said as she put the prints away. "I had no idea you were so talented, Lexie."
"Thanks, Frank. I'm excited about the direction my collection is taking. I'm starting to think maybe these photos are good enough to display."
"They're better than good," he told her. "They all tell a story."
"I think so, too," she said with excitement. "As I was selecting the photos, the ones that resonated the most were the ones that came with a question, like where is this place, why is that gold chain stuck in a cave, and who lost it there? Anyway, I'm getting carried away," she said. "I know they're just pictures."
"They're art," Frank said. "And you're allowed to be excited."
