Page 14 of The Photograph

The twitch turns into a low chuckle, and…Oh, my God, he has dimples.As his brow raises, I realize I’ve been staring at him, and heat engulfs my face. I clear my throat and lift my precious cargo of sample materials I want to use for one of the rooms at Holloway.

“All done for today.”

We make our way back to the car, and once in the cool air of his car, he turns to me.

“Do you have other engagements today?”

“I have to be in Plymouth around 3:00.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Are you hungry?”

When I smile, his gaze drops to my mouth, and a shiver races through me. “Yes, I’m starving.”

Half an hour later, we enter through a pale blue door, and I stop to take in the small eatery with its pale gold walls, teal linen tablecloths, and gold napkins, cutlery, and ornate tea glass shots. It’s both cozy and grandiose.

The hostess leads us through an arch where we sit at one of the eight tables and spend the

best part of our meal—the food is both rich and finely sophisticated—sharing ideas for Holloway. During lunch, he regales me with funny tales of his travels, and soon it’s time for us to leave.

****

I arrive at John’s hacienda-style house with three minutes to spare and hurry to the door.

When he doesn’t answer to the knock, nor the bell, I go round the back to his workshop, a small barn he reconverted, full of pieces of furniture in varied stages of completion.

His dark blond hair is tied on his nape, his head is bent over a piece of curved wood he sands almost as a caress.

Geez, I have sex on the brain, and it’s all Gabe’s fault.He nearly almost kisses me, spends half the day with me being all sexy and stuff, and … nothing. But I guess it’s for the best, the last thing I need is to entangle myself with a client. My biggest client. And I know from experience how much damage gossips can cause. But Gabe’s so...

Standing in the wide opening, I curve my hands around my mouth. “Knock, knock!”

John lifts his head, smiles, and pushes up his safety glasses. “Hey, angel, how are you?”

When he waves me in, I join him in the vast space. “I’m well, how are you, Johnnie?”

He kisses my cheek when I get by his side. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” I point at the piece he’s working on. “Is this the wardrobe?”

He grins. “Yep. I’ll be done in two days max. And it’ll be just like your drawings.”

Of that, I have no doubt. I graze the rounded, smooth edge of the furniture.It’s exactly what I wanted. So, why did he ask me here?

I touch my friend’s muscled arm. “You wanted to talk to me?”

When the lines of his jaw harden, I straighten my back. “Yes, let’s go inside. I’ve got some fresh lemonade.”

Must be serious. John catches my hand which I pull away as I walk past him and toward his kitchen’s back door.

Once we’re settled at his anthracite marble kitchen island—me on a varnished high stool and him across from me with his back against the old-fashioned stove—I raise my eyes to his. I like his kitchen and the clean lines of the cabinetry painted in cerulean blue. The bright color against the white walls gives the room a romantic seaside vibe.

He crosses his arms on his chest and scrutinizes me. “Did you go to the market today?”

I do not like that tone. Not one bit.After a deep breath, I smile with a shrug. “Yes, it’s Sunday. Why?”

He leans over the counter. “Alone?”

I set my glass on the island and shift back against the curved stool.Here we go again.

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