CHAPTER THIRTY
LIZ
The new studio space is amazing. Just. Amazing. Now all I need is more models to photograph up here.
Holly has already booked another trip down here next month, just in time for Christmas content and winter backdrops, but outside of taking pictures at our weekly rodeo night, my camera isn't getting much action.
Well, not counting the constant candid shots I'm taking of the kids these days. Okay, fine. The kids and the cowboys.
Between Jovi, Cas and Crow, the pictures have been enticing enough to make me put together a gallery I desperately want to offer up through my subscription service. As soon as I dig up the courage to ask all three men if they're cool with that.
I'm not exactly scared they'll say no. If I'm being really honest with myself, I'm fairly sure I'll get a resounding yes out of all of them.
They've been nothing but supportive in getting my business moved out here and making sure I have everything I need to get it thriving again.
Even with the threat of Tammy's custody suit still looming over me, I've felt more optimistic these last few weeks than I have since, well, the accident.
Maybe longer than that. I don't know when it really started, but it wasn't until Serendipity Ranch started collecting its own little family of lost ones that I realized I'd been lonely.
And not just since I moved here and left my old life behind.
I think maybe I've been lonely for a while, and I chose to ignore it.
Too busy working. Too busy telling myself that I was a lone wolf who preferred solitude and freedom.
Now that I have it, this sense of belonging to something, to someones, I don't think I'll ever be able to give it up.
And I know these men. Their hearts are good.
So good, I know that they'd do anything for me.
But I also know this particular thing will come at a cost. The endless shit they will give me when I tell them I think they're model worthy, the sort of cowboy studs that could grace the covers of romance novels, will be no easy burden to bear.
I will. But not yet.
Instead, I'm taking other desperate measures. Shooting myself.
Dressed in a slinky, midnight blue negligee and matching stilettos—thank God for the three space heaters Jovi brought up here for me—I'm doing my best to pose while using a remote to capture the images I need.
Even with the screen in full view, it's not turning out to be the most successful venture.
In part, because I don't know how to do sexy. I mean, I can create a sexy image. I can stage it, give cues and direction to anyone whether they're a professional or not. My whole business is built around it, but I can't portray it myself.
I don't know why, but anytime I try, I just feel awkward. And the fact that I'm attempting to sell the idea of romance and sex solo, isn't helping my tanking self-confidence.
I'm straddling a chair, one heeled foot perches precariously at the edge, giving a full view of, well, implied everything, loosely draped in silk, when there's a knock at the door, and shortly after, Jovi strolls in. Fuck me.
He takes one look at me, kicks the door shut and smirks. "What are you doing?"
"Working," I grumble, torn between closing my legs and keeping them as they are in a stubborn show of how uncomfortable he's not making me.
Big. Fat. Lie. "I thought you were taking the kids for a trail ride with Cas.
" It's the whole reason I attempted this.
Because I knew the kids were cared for. And off the premises.
"We were going to, " he says, lip still quirking with amusement as he walks toward me. "Started raining." He points a finger toward the ceiling and it's only now I note the pitter patter sounds of water pelting against the roof. "Cas took them to see a movie instead."
I nod. "You didn't go with them?" Dumb question. The man is standing right in front of me. Obviously, he didn't go with them.
"I offered," he says, now circling me, prowling around my lights and the camera stand. "But he told me to take two hours for myself for a change. Do something I wanted."
"And you came up here?" I ask, annoyed when I hear the hitch my voice.
"Come on, Liz," he teases softly, "you have to know by now that anything I want to do involves you."
"I'm working," I remind him.
"I see that." He stops behind my camera, lowering himself to peer through the lens. "I didn't know you spend time on that side of the camera. But you should. You look good over there. Damn good."
I clear my throat, suddenly feeling hot and like my skin has shrunk around my body. "Are you seriously flirting with me right now?"
"Yes." He stands straight again, eyes colliding with mine. "Tell me to stop if you don't like it. Because if you don't, Liz, I'll keep going."
"Until the kids get home?"
He shakes his head, slowly walking around the camera.
"No. Forever." He stops right in front of me, lowering himself until we're eye to eye, both of us resting our arms over the backrest of the chair.
"It feels so fucking right, Liz. Letting these thoughts and feeling out, setting them free.
I don't want to cage them again. But I will if you ask me to. "
"I won't ask you to."
His smile is tentative as he takes my hand, twining our fingers. "Good." He brings the tips of my fingers to his mouth, brushing soft kisses over each of them. "Now then, want some help?"
"Are you serious?"
His mouth quirks again as he stands upright, towering over me. "You really need to stop being so surprised every time I want to do something for you."
I nod. "Okay." But the word comes out all breathy and weak, so it's not all that believable.
I want it to be though. I want to believe I'm the woman he shows up for in every capacity.
I want to be that woman and know that I'm her.
Without a doubt. Without fear that one or both of us will screw it up.
So, I'll keep trying. Keep telling myself ‘okay’, until I believe it. Until I can make him believe it too.
"Where do you want me?" he asks, fingers moving to his buttons.
"Are you getting naked?"
He laughs, and this time, he's the one who sounds surprised. "Not naked. But I thought I'd try and match your vibe a bit better." With the first few buttons undone, he pulls the flannel shirt over his head, taking the white undershirt along with it.
I think I might have swallowed my tongue.
Holy hell, Jovi shirtless is still a thing of wonder. And I've seen plenty of male models in way less. But this, him, it's beyond compare.
His muscles are sculpted to perfection, and unlike the gym built bulk, these curves form to his body in flawless proportion, the undeniable evidence of his body's capabilities and the obvious results of the physical work he does day in and day out around here.
A light patch of hair dusts his chest and trails down from his belly button, creating an inviting path framed by the beginnings of a delicious v, both of which disappear under the waistband of his pants.
I wipe my lip, a subconscious reaction to hypothetical drool, and let my gaze travel back up to meet his eyes. Any other time, I might be humiliated to find him watching me appreciate him stripped so bare, but there's no embarrassment when the hunger in his eyes only matches my own.
"Sit behind me," I tell him, scooting up to make room for him. "Place one hand on my thigh and wrap the other around my throat."
He does.
JOVI
How I make it through that photoshoot without tearing that tiny silk thing off her and begging her to ride me right there in that chair, camera on and all, is either a miracle or a testament to my stupidity.
I lean into the former.
Despite being pretty damn sure she was as turned on as I was the entire time, it didn't feel right to make a move like that then.
As much as I wanted to, it felt selfish to act on.
She's been working so hard trying to keep her business afloat in the midst of becoming a full-time parent, losing all her existing clients and having a model roster that's shrunk down to one.
I wasn't going to offer her help and then steal those hours of work from her.
Even if I would have worked overtime to make her feel every bit as amazing as the mere sight of her made me feel.
Plus, there was the time limit. We haven't spent the last fourteen years building up to this moment to have it restricted by a two-hour movie showing. No. When it happens, it will be unhurried. Unrestricted. Ours.
"I need to ask you something," she says, wearing sweats and a hoody now that we're done and she's sitting back at her computer, uploading all the photos we took.
I finish buttoning up my shirt again and walk over to her. "Yes."
She laughs, rolling her eyes. "I haven't asked you anything yet."
"Go ahead. Ask if you want. But the answer is yes."
She makes a face, the one I used to think meant she thought I was stupid but now realize is her throwing up her guard. She still doesn't trust that I'm for real. But she will. I won't stop until she does. "What if I'm asking you to ride next rodeo naked?"
"Yes." I rub the inside of my thigh. "The saddle will probably chafe me something fierce, but yes, if that's your question, my answer hasn't changed."
She lets out a disbelieving laugh. "And if I ask you to give up your room downstairs so I can store my equipment in there and ask you to convert the old horse trailer with the broken hitch into a room for yourself instead?'
"Tell me what equipment you want down there. I'll start moving it now."
"You're not serious."
"What did I tell you about that?"
"Jovi," she starts, but then I bend down, placing one hand on each side of her thighs, bringing our faces mere inches from each other and her words die out.
"The answer is yes, Liz," I say, lowering my voice to match the intimacy of being so close. "So why don't you just tell me what it is I've already agreed to."
I watch her throat bob as she swallows, before her tongue darts out to lick her lips and I almost groan out loud at the sight.
"You know how I've been taking pictures of you guys while you're working?" she asks, her voice still unsure.
"Mhm."
"I want to offer them to my subscribers."
I close the distance between us, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. "Yes. And I'll talk to the guys. Give me whatever release thingy they need to sign and I'll make sure they do it."
"Are you—"
She doesn't finish that damn question this time. I don't let her.