Hope smiled behind her camera as Newman roared at her. He’d volunteered to help, so she’d decided he could model some of the clothes in the Roar. Mac, too, was wearing a sweater. Newman’s was gray, and Mac’s navy. They also wore beanies, gloves, and scarves.
“I swear the sweat is rolling down my spine,” Newman said. “I’m broiling like a lobster.”
“Nearly there.” She clicked a few more frames. “Done.”
They stripped in record time, and she felt no remorse at their red cheeks.
“Okay, I think we’ll put Newman in one of the chairs now, and he can pretend to read.”
“I can read!”
“Of course you can.”
She and Newman walked to the rear of the shop. He grabbed her, dragging her behind a rack of scarves.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“A little,” Hope conceded, refusing to acknowledge how good it felt to have his hands on her. This had to stop.
“Maybe I should heat you up a bit, so we’re equal.”
Before she could stop him, he’d kissed her. Hard and fast, it robbed the breath from her body.
“Don’t let me disturb you, I just want some of Annabelle’s soap. Maybe take it to the postcard aisle, I think that’s free.”
The Texan drawl had Hope looking over her shoulder at Ethan Gelderman, aka Tex. The smile on his face was wide, and the twinkle in his eyes wicked.
“Another model, just what I need,” Hope said, heading down the aisle. “Come and take a seat, Ethan.”
“What?” The man followed along with Newman, who fell into the nearest seat, then crossed his ankles, looking suddenly relaxed and nothing like the predatory male who had just kissed her… twice in one day.
“Just stay here for a sec,” Hope said. Seeing the Texan was holding a basket filled with honey and chocolate, she lifted her camera and snapped. “Smile now.” He did, and it packed a punch, but her stomach didn’t flutter like it did when Newman smiled.
Big trouble, Hope. That man was a serial dater and woman specialist. He had women falling all over themselves to be with him, Ryan had told her. He’d caught up with Newman once, in LA, and the man had been dating some model at the time. He was way out of Hope’s league even if she was interested… which she wasn’t. No matter what he’d said, they were not ending up in bed. She wasn’t going to be just another name to add to his list of conquests.
“What’s the frown for? Aren’t I doing it right?”
“No, it’s great, really. I always frown,” Hope said.
“Well now, honey, you’re pretty no matter what look you have on your face. But smiling’s good for the spirits.”
“Lord save us from silver-tongued Texans,” Newman said.
“Nothing wrong with being polite, pretty boy, and jealousy’s an ugly trait in anyone.”
Hope got behind her camera as the men started to bicker, throwing insults back and forth with ease. She instructed Mac to pass them things, and still they argued. Hope realized this was their form of communication.
“That womanspeaks ten words a second, with gusts to fifty,” the Texan said as they discussed a local.
“True that,” Newman said.
She wrapped up thirty minutes later, sure she had enough to appease Mac. Hope then loaded the photos onto her laptop and left the boys to look them over. She needed to get her mother some of that lavender hand lotion that she liked, because she was just about out.
“Your smile’s blinding me, Tex.”
“All real, too, bud. Not a veneer in sight, like you.”
Hope shook her head as the men continued to tease each other. All eyes turned as the door opened, but it was Hope who squeaked and dropped to her knees behind the homemade pickles.
