Jim muttered to himself, then called out, “Take fifteen while we get this mess cleaned up.” He looked at the cat. “Ginger, get over here.”
Unlike the obedient Mo, Ginger ignored Jim.
The crew got busy resetting the scene; hay restacked, rope and pail rehung, and people drying off.
Mo claimed a spot under a large oak, immediately flopping onto his side, tongue out, chest heaving, exhaustion finally winning out over excitement. I was relieved it was far enough away from the shoot not to cause any more damage.
Ian grabbed two crates and we joined Mo under the tree to sit.
“So, Mo belongs to you now?” I asked with a teasing grin.
“It was a package deal—you, Mo, and Roxie.”
He smiled, that alluring, tempting smile that graces thousands of romance novel covers and melts women’s hearts, not to mention sending their libido soaring.
“You need to use that smile sparingly,” I cautioned.
He winked at me. “It’s meant only for you.”
“It better be,” I warned with a chuckle.
We watched Mo for a moment, then Ian turned his attention back to me. “What brought you and Mo here, since if you remembered me telling you this morning about this shoot taking place, you would have avoided coming here.”
I thought for a moment and, recalling, I glared at him.
He continued smiling. “Okay, maybe the shower wasn’t the best place to remind you.” As if he just recalled, he asked quickly, “Did something go wrong with your breakfast with Amy?”
“You could say that,” I said, and after telling him Amy had canceled at the last minute, I told him what happened.
“So, this guy claimed he did one job, decided he didn’t like it and wanted out,” Ian said, and came to the same conclusion that I did. “That made him expendable.”
“Exactly. The question is whether he’ll give up the others.”
“He might,” Ian said. “If he realizes he never stood a chance otherwise.”
I glanced past him just as a familiar figure approached from not far off.
“And speaking of standing chances…”
Ian followed my gaze. “Stone, and I’m guessing he’s here to question you.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me.”
Stone stopped a few feet away. “Pepper. I’ve got a few questions.”
Ian pushed to his feet. “I need to get back to the shoot,” he said easily. Then, over his shoulder, he called out, “Hey, Roy—get this shot for me.”
Before I could react, he grabbed my hand, pulled me up, and dipped me back against his arm.
There was no warning.
No hesitation.
Just Ian, solid, warm, and very much in charge, leaning down and kissing me like the world wasn’t watching.
Cameras clicked.
Somewhere, someone whistled.
