I lift my face from its hiding place. "Just coffee? No talking?" I clarify.
"If that's what you want," she agrees. She's on the verge of handing me one of the mugs when she pulls it back and out of my reach. "But I do have one question. One you can answer without words. All I need is a nod, yes or no. Zero talking, one simple gesture." She leans forward, eyes wide. "Did you kiss?"
I give a gesture. My middle finger.
She laughs, the sound bright and delighted, then hands over my cup. "I'll take that as a yes."
I don't say otherwise. Nor do I elaborate and Holly exerts a shocking amount of self-discipline when we make it to our second cups, and she still doesn't attempt to get more out of me.
Dosed on caffeine with a house to ourselves, we jump right into work. We got plenty of sweet shots the other day. Now it's time to get the spicy ones.
Having done this together about a hundred times now, we fall into a smooth workflow, Holly intuitively following minimal cues and me doing my best to secure every perfect shot she offers me. We've just switched to another ensemble, this time black lingerie paired with a black silk robe and a long string of pearls, when the door flies open, and Trent's mother comes marching in.
Her gasp is so loud I almost laugh at the absurdity. "Oh, good Lord!"
Her hand flies to cover her eyes and it's all I can do to keep a straight face as I try to assure her, "Everyone's decent. I'm sure it looks a little scandalous, but she's actually quite clothed." With the robe on, Holly is wearing more than most do at the beach.
"You let the children help you with this?" Tammy screeches and it takes me a second to understand what she’s asking.
"They helped with one of our shoots, yes," I try to explain, "but it was a very, very different setting." Much as I want to remain calm as she continues to work herself into a frenzy, it's hard not to take total offense to her accusation. I may not be the most maternal, but even I know not to have children present for a sexy shoot. "Tammy, please lower your hand so we can have a normal conversation about this."
"Absolutely not." She fumbles, reaching for the door behind her, blindly attempting to escape my room, which I'm shocked to learn, to some, is the equivalent to a sort of kink fest sex chamber. "If you want to talk, we can do so out in the hall. Without the porn star."
I look to Holly in time to catch her mouth the words 'porn star' with eyes like two question marks. I take a breath and then hurry to reach the door, holding it open while I grab Tammy's elbow to help guide her out before she falls and hurts herself.
I follow her into the hall as requested, going so far as to close the door to offer her some privacy from Holly. My porn star. It's such an absurd thought, I almost laugh. Then I catch Tammy's expression and I'm glad I held it in. "Tammy, I'm really sorry you walked into something that made you uncomfortable, but in my defense, this is my business. And I had the door closed for a reason."
"Your business," she sneers. "Lena always said you were a photographer. But she never mentioned this." She points an accusing finger at the door. "Wasn't until I talked to the children this morning that I heard more about your work. Taking pictures for romance novels. Well, I looked you up after that, missy. I've seen the sort of pictures you take. Pictures that should never be taken in a home with small children."
"They're not home," I point out the rather obvious. "Jovi took them to breakfast. So I could work."
She presses her lips together tightly, shaking her head. "I knew you were the wrong choice to raise the kids. I knew it. But everyone said to honor Trent and Lena's choice. Even when we all know it was Lena who named you as guardian. Trent always did do whatever she wanted. Well, I tried to as well. But after this?"
She clutches her purse to her. I'm not sure what the gesture is meant to accomplish. Am I a thief now too? Or is she worried I'm going to strip her and start snapping photos? "I'm taking you to court, Elizabeth. And I'm taking the kids."
Then she turns on a dime and stomps toward the stairs, anger marking every step on the way down, before she makes her grand departure with a loud slam of the door.
JOVI
After Biscuit Barn I make sure to add in as many detours on the way home as possible to give Liz more time to work.
After the things Holly said yesterday, I get the feeling Liz has been struggling to keep her business going more than she's let on. If there's anything I can do to off-set whatever challenges she's been facing, I'm going to do it.
So, we stop at the farmer's market. And we swing into the nursery. And then the feed store. We even make a random stop at one of the smaller farms halfway between the ranch and town when I spot a 'puppies for sale' sign on the side of the road.
Trent always wanted a dog for the kids, but Lena had wanted to wait. To make sure they were old enough to participate in caring for a furry family member. And, honestly, I think she knew she had her hands full already taking care of Trent and the kids. A puppy on top of that would have been utter chaos.
Something I remind myself of multiple times as I watch the kids giggle with delight, each snuggling a furry bundle to their chest, tiny pink tongues tickling their faces. The pups are a happy accident between the owner's Australian sheep dog and the new neighbor's Golden Retriever. I'm told the Golden has since been neutered, so this is a one-time only opportunity.
Still, I manage to collect both kids, each of them pleading to take a puppy home, so desperate they miraculously agree on one together, without caving. Liz would kill me if I brought home a puppy. And while I would die a happy man after last night's kiss, I'm also more attached to being alive than ever, hoping for another taste of her.
It's almost noon when we get back to Serendipity, and I coral the kids up to the house, silently scouring my mind for an angle I can use to persuade Liz to have lunch with me. For us all to have lunch together.
But when the door swings open, it's Holly who greets us.
"I've got leftover pizza from last night in the oven," she tells them, a strange almost forced smile on her lips. "Go wash up and meet me in the kitchen."
Neither Remmi nor Gavin notes the weird tone and expression, both taking off through the house, spurred on by the prospect of pizza. You'd never know they downed their body weight in biscuits three hours ago.
