Page 16 of A Cowboy's Twinkling Lights Lasso
“Like this.” I’m left with no choice but to physically adjust his stance. My fingers glide over his warm and slick muscles as I shift his body to the desired angle. “Perfect. Can you rest this hand on your hip and wrap your free arm around Dani.”
“I can.” He places his hand on his hip and holds his arm for Dani.
“I’d rather not—”
“Now,” I hiss, but I secretly enjoy her disdain for him.
Dani scoots in close with an exaggerated groan.
“Excellent. Now, Thorn, tilt your head slightly to the left, but keep the brim of your cowboy hat low. We don’t want to lose that mysterious vibe.”
He follows the direction so well I can’t help but smile.
I step back to adjust my camera, noticing how the light bathes him in a warm golden hue. “We want that smoldering look when you’re posing with the ladies.”
His expression shifts through the lens to a sultry gaze that speeds my heart.
Professionalism.
Easy peas.
I’m already a pro at masquerading in any persona that isn’t my own—I always have been.
“Fantastic.” I glance up. “Next, let’s practice the dip.”
“Nooo,” Dani moans.
Chapter Five
THORN
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“DO YOU BELIEVE in love at frost sight?” The sheriff’s mother, Molly Nash, giggles softly at my subtle but playful flirt.
And subtle it is compared to the cowboys around me who are straight up taking this contest way too far with their, I’ll be the milk to your cookies, or are you looking to get fa-la-la-la-laid?
I quickly tip my stetson at the camera and plaster on the sultry smile Flora requested. She snaps shots, capturing Molly’s candid smile. Candid photos have always been Flora’s favorite, and each time I get the ladies laughing before a photo, I also see Flora’s eyes sparkle with joy, unable to hide her delight in catching the moment on camera.
“Great job, Mrs. Nash.” From behind the tripod, Flora smiles encouragingly at the older woman. “You’re a natural.”
“I’ve heard the same thing about your photography. I look forward to the result on Sunday.”
Sunday supper and signatures don’t sound nearly as appealing now. I might skip it altogether.
“Thank you, Mrs. Nash. I hope it’ll be something you can cherish.” Flora’s eyes meet mine, and she quickly glances away, pretending to review the pictures she’s just taken.
Molly squeezes my hand as she steps back. Her sweet, sincere eyes don’t shy away from mine like Flora’s. “Thorn, you’re as delightful as you were all those nights you spent in the cell.”
Her distant memory cracks Flora’s work face for the first time today. Not that she hasn’t been kind and enthusiastic, but nothing like the surprised, quick burst of laughter that fades just as quickly. That laugh is rare as gold, I swear.
Meanwhile, I’m barely holding on to a damn thread here, and it’s only mid-afternoon. Three solid hours remain. I may be here ‘cause I’m a man of my word, but damn, my heart is hurtin,’ my ego is bruised, and I just want to recoil back to the comfort of my ranch.
“Remember the time I taught you to crochet?” Mrs. Nash asks. “You knocked off half a dozen hats for the newborns at the hospital.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And then each time afterward, you’d crochet until my husband released you.”
