Page 13 of Definitely (Maybe) Dating
“Bartender, can you pour five pints and make the head frothy.” She lifted a single brow, challenging even one of them to comment on the word head. Wisely, they all kept their mouth shut except Owen.
“So, you’re a beer girl? I should have guessed that right off.”
“I’m more of a “Can you each grab a beer and get your asses closer together so I can do my job? girl,” she said. “Darcy wants a photo with all the brothers, and since no one wants a bridezilla crushing each of your nuts, I suggest you listen and move where I tell you.”
She waved Owen to stand in front of the spigot and he moved willingly like a lovesick puppy. She took each man by the shoulders, strong arming them into position, some of them on bar stools, others standing casually around the bar. And none of his brothers’ fame or fortune warranted a second look. Nope, Piper was a no-nonsense style of photographer. And that turned him on.
Which became interesting when she came to Josh. She didn’t touch him—not once. In fact, it appeared as if she went out of her way to avoid touching him at all. Oh, he’d caught her watching him throughout the night, her camera lens pointed his direction. Only fair, since he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He knew she was shooting him because when he winked, she’d pretend she was fiddling with her camera then quickly turn her focus the other way, but not before he caught the look ofOh shitin her expression.
Not that it deterred her. Five minutes later and she had her camera aimed on him.
“There we go. Now smile.” No one smiled. She shot them a look over the top of her camera that could cryogenically freeze their collective nuts. “This isn’t a mug shot. It’s an engagement party,” she said cheerfully, then got close and lowered her voice. “Smile or so help me God, I will . . . ”
“What?” Rhett said. “Get Darcy? Gage will have her smiling in no time.”
Josh knew the moment Piper was done playing. “You are one in a long list of photos that I have to capture before I can go home. So unless you want to hear about just how bad my day was, and we’re talking bad, like Satan’s Keeper and Zeus coming at me bad, then I’d suggest you show some teeth. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to jerk you around by the family jewels and drag you to Margo, who will learn that her sons are actively trying to sabotage her Christmas Card photo.”
“You can’t, ma’am. I accidentally closed my eyes last year,” Rhett said.
“And I forgot my socks,” Clay added. “But she still hung it over the fireplace for the sole purpose of showing her friends the blink and you miss the socks fiasco.”
“Have you ever forgotten your jockstrap?” she asked, and Clay looked horrified at the idea. “Your strap to you is as important to you as your mom’s stories about her sons are to her. Do you really want to send her, unarmed, into a group of one-upping old biddies? I wouldn’t.”
“If someone wanted to see your last Christmas card, where would your mom keep it?” Owen asked, his overt flirting rubbing Josh the wrong way.
“That information is classified.” The group laughed, but he could have sworn there was something uncertain and almost defensive beneath her tone. The way she glanced away told him she was nervous. And that’s when he got it. She didn’t dress like one giantScrew Youto the world—she dressed to keep people away.
“Let’s get smiling, fellas,” Josh said, relieved he wouldn’t have to kick some serious ass, because his brothers, even Rhett, sat upright, arms slung around each as if at a ballgame.
“On three. One.”Click. Click. Click. Click, click. Click.
“Whoa!” Rhett said. “What happened to three? Every good photographer goes on three.”
Trouble leveled Rhett with a look. “A good photographer knows when her subjects are a few beers in too many and might stumble over if I waited too long. Plus, I didn’t want to run the risk of your blinking, Rhett.” She blew them a kiss with her middle finger. “It’s been real, boys.”
“Well, shit, she told you,” Clay said.
“What, Jock Strap Kid? You do know that today’s socks were black.”
“I was told dark grey—” Clay checked to find black.
As Piper was walking away, she looked over her shoulder at Josh. Those lips were slightly tilted into a mischievous grin, her eyes saidneiner,but it was that smart aleck take-shit-from-nobody vibe that had him sending a wink her way. To his surprise, she winked back, then disappeared down the hallway.
“Gentleman, I have found my date,” Owen informed the group. “Nose ring, and did you see that tattoo on her neck. All I needed was a few more minutes, and she’d have been mine.”
“Or you let her do her job,” Josh advised, because Owen had a specific type: smart-assed, hot-ass, and a little crazy. Not to mention brunette, stacked and tattooed. He also knew that Owen could be relentless when issued a challenge.
Too bad for Owen, Josh was already formulating a plan. A plan that did not include Owen, but rather Josh engaging in a night of flirting and fun with the sexy photographer. While she might be nothing like his usual type, his usual type seemed to be in crisis—adapting as new information developed.
“Darcy does have incredible taste in photographers,” Clay said, throwing his hat in the ring. “I think she was flirting with me during the pictures.”
“No way,” Owen said. “She was definitely checking me out.”
“Only because she knows I’m off the market,” Rhett said.
“She wasn’t flirting with any of you. She was being professional and trying to help you idiots get in the right places,” Josh said, and the other brothers exchanged looks.
“How would you know?” Owen asked. “You were so busy undressing Pretty Picture Girl, you wouldn’t have noticed if zombies crashed the party.”
