by Bella Andre
Five minutes later, though he felt like a bit of an idiot, he walked back out. When Zara saw him, her eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open.
“Oh. My. God.” She started to laugh so hard that she actually started snorting. “You must have been so scrawny back then.” She lifted her glasses to wipe away her tears of laughter.
She was right—the uniform was several sizes too small. His quadriceps were hugely straining the fabric across the legs. As for the long-sleeved, button-up shirt, while he’d managed to get his arms into it, there wasn’t a chance of doing up the buttons. He hadn’t even bothered with the regulation tie.
“I look like a bad parody of an exotic dancer.”
“I know I sound like a broken record after our night in Camden, but you’ve got to dance again for me now.”
There wasn’t another soul he would consider doing this for. But he’d do anything to see Zara’s eyes light up this way.
“I’ll provide the music by whistling,” she offered.
She couldn’t be serious, could she? “Your whistling is the opposite of music.”
But she clearly didn’t care what he thought of the atonal wheezing from her lips. Not only that, but he was almost certain she was trying to whistle Pour Some Sugar on Me by Def Leppard.
The sooner he started dancing, the sooner he’d be done with it. Rory opened with a few bicep pumps and rolls of his hips. Fifteen seconds into his routine, the seam at his shoulder ripped open. Then, as if the dam had been about to burst all along, the rest of the seams tore—the center back of the shirt, the inseam of the pants, and the back seam between his glutes.
Zara was unable to keep whistling around her extreme fit of the giggles. “You look like an apocalyptic zombie stripper!”
He lifted his arms and zombied toward the bed, saying in a bad Transylvanian accent, “I vant to eat your brains.”
Both of them were laughing as they rolled together onto the bed. And as their lips met, Rory knew he could search the whole world over and never find anyone as right for him as Zara. For so long, she’d been right under his nose, but it wasn’t until she’d let her walls fall—and he did too—that they both realized what had been right there all along.
Not only magic…but true love.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Zara woke to the sound of the waves crashing on the shore outside Rory’s bedroom window. The sun was starting to rise. And Rory was fast asleep beside her.
More accurately, he was sleeping beneath her. She’d never instinctively wrapped her arms and legs around a lover and held on for dear life all night long. Not until Rory.
It had been an absolutely perfect night. Emotional and deep. Sexy and funny.
And most of all, happy.
She hadn’t felt this happy since before her mother passed away. She’d felt pleased and proud and excited. But never full to the brim with joy.
Miraculously, at some point last night, Rory had managed to blow away the dark clouds that had hovered on the edge of her consciousness these past fifteen years. Clouds she’d assumed would always be there. And despite how shaky she’d felt in the aftermath of spilling her guts to him about her mother, for the first time in a very long time, Zara felt hopeful.
Hopeful that maybe, just maybe, she had finally moved beyond her mother’s death—and could start living her life anew.
“I know you have to get into work soon for your photo shoot…” Rory said, his voice still a little gravelly with sleep as he stroked his big hand across her bare hip, then rested it over her stomach. “But I’m okay with quick if you are.”
She grinned at him over her shoulder as she said, “I went to bed with Rory Sullivan…and woke up with Mr. Speedy.” But she followed up her teasing by pressing her hips into his.
And while it was definitely quick—all it took was the barest touch of his lips against her breasts and his fingers between her thighs for her to be more than ready for him—their lovemaking was no less emotional than the night before. Nor was it any less explosive as he gave her not just one orgasm, but two in rapid succession, before he finally let himself go with a groan of pleasure.
Zara had never felt this solid with anyone. Though they both could be total firecrackers, what they were creating with each other felt so right. No question, he was exactly the kind of man her mother would have wanted for her.
For the first time, thinking about her mother didn’t rend Zara’s heart.
Fifteen minutes later, after she’d showered and put on one of Rory’s long-sleeved shirts as a temporary dress until she could change at her cottage, they sat down to a breakfast of cereal and orange juice at his kitchen table.
Normally, she wolfed down breakfast, but she was so busy gaping at the morning sun glinting off the water that her shredded wheat started to get soggy. “I could get used to having breakfast here,” she mused. “This view is incredible.”
“Any other reasons?” he said, obviously fishing for compliments.
For once, she didn’t feel like making a show of teasing him. “The fact that we love each other is the biggest one,” she said simply. And then, “Who would ever have thought the two of us would fall in love?”
“Cassie said she knew all along.”
“She did?”
He nodded. “She thinks our bickering hid a deeper passion.”
Zara digested that information for a few moments. “If your sister saw it even before we did, then maybe it isn’t so crazy after all.”
“Even if it is,” he replied, “there’s no one I’d rather be crazy with.”
Of course she had to push her cereal bowl aside to kiss him. Which meant that Zara was breathless with desire by the time he reluctantly pulled away.
“You can’t be late for your photo shoot,” he reminded her.
It took her brain several long moments to accept that there was more to her life than making love with Rory as often as possible. “Right.” She gave one last longing look at his lips, before checking the clock and verifying that they really did need to get a move on. “We should go.”
They swung by her cottage so that she could change, then headed into the warehouse. Zara was just leaning across the stick shift to kiss Rory good-bye in the warehouse parking lot when her phone rang.
She was on such a high that seeing Brittany’s name on caller ID—and knowing her stepsister was surely about to press her case for help with wedding planning—couldn’t even bring her down. “Hey, Britt, what’s up?”
“Z, I have bad news.” A tiny pinprick pierced Zara’s joy bubble. “Both James and Angel have come down with chicken pox.”
“Both of them? How is that possible?”
“Well, they’re dating,” Brittany explained, “so I’m assuming that’s how. I can try to find two more models, but I doubt they’ll be able to do the shoot today.”
This photo shoot was Zara’s biggest to date. The two models were a large expense, but nothing compared to the cost of the advertising spots Zara had booked for the promotions they would be starring in. She’d never spent this much money to advertise her glasses before, but she believed she finally had enough customer data and previous sales to warrant making her first really big business investment.
In the early days, Brittany had been nice enough to model the frames. Once Zara had earned enough from selling her glasses to invest in upgrading her branding, Brittany had come through for her again by connecting her with up-and-coming models in Maine. The Instagram feed of the man who had been booked for the day—James Bellings—was one women drooled over. Zara might have been tempted to do a little drooling herself, but even before she’d started sleeping with Rory, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from comparing the model to him…and finding the stranger coming up short on all fronts compared to her woodworking colleague. The female model—Angel Davalos—was an absolutely gorgeous woman. Her eyes told Zara that she’d lived life, rather than just sailed through it. Brittany had told her the woman was getting her maste
r’s in education, as well, which Zara appreciated.
Rather than pay for a photographer and a studio every time she had a new launch, over the past few years, Zara had taken enough photography classes to feel comfortable behind the camera. She’d also taken classes in graphic design so that she could confidently manipulate photos for print and online advertisements, along with posts for her blog, website, and social media channels.
Only, none of that mattered now that her models couldn’t come to the shoot. Zara had prepaid for most of her ad space. She was going to lose a ton of money. Money she couldn’t afford to lose.
“What do you want me to do?” Britt asked. “Should I make some calls to the agencies to see if they can offer anyone on super-short notice?”
“Thanks, Britt, but I really need to get the shots today. I’ll have to figure something else out.”
“What about Rory? I’m sure he’d do whatever he could to help you out. And,” her stepsister added with a giggle, “he’s certainly good-looking enough to be a model.”
Zara wasn’t at all surprised by Brittany’s reaction to Rory. Even at her stepsister’s own engagement party, she’d clearly been wowed by him. But Zara didn’t have time to deal with worrying about Brittany trying to steal him away right now. Not when this photo shoot—and losing ridiculous sums of money on the advertisements—would put her business at serious risk if she didn’t come up with a solution, and fast.
“Thanks for the heads-up, Britt.” She was trying not to panic. “I’ll figure something out.”
But before she could disconnect, Brittany called out, “Wait! Have you decided whether you’re going to help me plan the wedding?”
Having guessed this was coming, Zara replied, “I’ve got to figure out my photo shoot first. I’ll call you later, and we can talk more about it.”
She had only just disconnected when Rory said, “I’ll do it.”
It was the same thing he’d said on Friday morning when he’d found her getting drunk on Prosecco. She hadn’t even needed to give him the full details of how screwed she would be if she couldn’t do the shoot this morning.
He’d simply offered.
Because he was amazing.
Yet again, she could hardly believe her luck not only that she’d found a man like him—but that he actually loved her too.
“I promise it won’t take too long to photograph you in my frames.” She wouldn’t have a female model in her ads, but Rory would make all of her unisex frames look good. “I’ll make it really easy for you. And—”
He put his hands over hers, stilling her wild gesticulations. “I’m happy to help.” As he spoke, he stroked the backs of her hands with his thumbs. Just that one tiny touch was enough to set her on fire. “Anything you need, I’m game.”
The list of things she needed from him went so far beyond modeling her frames it boggled the mind.
“Where do you want me?” he asked.
Anywhere. Everywhere. All the freaking time.
And not just for sex. But for laughs. And hugs. And cuddling up under a blanket watching a bad movie together.
“I’ve got everything set up in the other room.”
After she made sure her office windows were completely covered so that she could control the light with her rig, he asked, “Am I okay in this?” He gestured to his long-sleeved blue flannel shirt, black T-shirt, and faded jeans. “Or do you need me to grab something else from Turner’s house?”
“You look great.”
He let his eyes run over her, head to toe. “So do you.”
Even after all the intimate things they’d done together, his compliment made her blush. “Thank you.”
In an effort to look extra professional while shooting her models, instead of grabbing overalls or baggy jeans, she’d put on a print dress that Brittany had brought her from Thailand. More fitted than her usual outfits, the soft linen was at once incredibly comfortable and attractive. She’d paired the dress with one of her favorite frames—a rainbow color combination that made her smile every time she looked at herself in the mirror.
Fifteen minutes later, she was holding the professional camera at the ready. “Let’s shoot this pair first.” She handed Rory a forest-green frame, and when he slipped them on, her heart flip-flopped in her chest, practically doing a full somersault.
“How do I look?”
She lifted the camera and began shooting. “You know damn well how good you look.”
In fact, she was pretty sure there was nothing sexier than Rory wearing her glasses frames. It helped that he was perfectly comfortable in front of the camera. And when his lips curved up at the corners, her hands actually started to shake from the lust curling through her.
“You’re a natural, considering this is your first time modeling.”
“Actually, it was an easy way to pay off my loans in college,” he told her, looking a little sheepish. “Don’t hold it against me.”
“It’s not your fault you’re exceptional-looking. Same with Brittany—there’s no point in people like me being upset that you’ve got more than your fair share of the good genes in the pool.”
“What does people like me mean?”
The intense look he was giving her made for great photos, so she kept shooting as she said, “It means normal people.”
“Normal?” He looked at her as though she were crazy, which wasn’t nearly as good a look for her ad campaign, so she lowered her camera. “You are anything but normal, Zara. You’re exceptional. In every way.”
Figuring his comments were a result of being blinded by all the shockingly good sex—and possibly also the fact that he was in love with her, a thought that sent another burst of joy through her—she insisted, “I’m totally okay with not being a traditional beauty queen. Everyone, regardless of whether or not they fit traditional patterns of beauty, should get to feel special and sparkly every day. And that’s what I hope my glasses do for people.”
She was about to lift her camera to shoot again, when he asked, “Your camera has burst mode, right?” When she nodded, he reached into her box of new frames and pulled out two, handing the blue frames to her and taking the pink for himself. “Set it so it keeps taking pictures, and come get in the shot with me. Let’s make some magic together.”
Magic was what he had told her his parents had—the reason he believed they had such a strong marriage, even after so many years. And as she set the camera to automatically shoot a new picture every five seconds, then pulled off her glasses to put on the blue ones, Zara wondered, was it possible that she could bring the same kind of magic to his life that he had already brought to hers?
The lenses were clear glass, and without her prescription lenses, everything was fuzzy.
“I’m right here,” he teased, waving his arms in an exaggerated motion.
Though she absolutely hated having her picture taken—she couldn’t think of a time she’d managed to be anything other than stiff as a board in front of the camera—instead of seizing up as she heard the shutter open and close, she found herself playfully smacking his chest. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Only for you, baby.”
Just as it always did, his baby had her laughing. She was pretty sure she was never going to be able to hear that word again without cracking up. She prayed Brittany and Cameron wouldn’t say it during their vows, or Zara was going to embarrass herself during the wedding.
Less than a week ago, her stomach would have twisted up when she thought about the two of them saying their vows. This morning, however, she felt totally fine about it.
Amazing.
“You look happy.” Rory brushed a lock of hair from her face before directing her. “Now turn to face the camera so that the rest of the world can see it too.”
Feeling a million times more comfortable in front of the camera than she ever had before, instead of fighting him on it, she did as directed. “I am happy.” Because when she was laughing with Rory like this, she truly did feel
happier than she’d ever thought she could be.
“So…what are you thinking about that’s made you so happy? Or should I ask, who are you thinking about?”
She poked him in the side. “Fishing for compliments much?”
“I love you too.”
Hearing him say the words melted her heart all over again. So she kissed him. Once, then again, and again, and again. She was amazed that when they were kissing, all her fears, her worries, even the dark clouds of guilt and grief from losing her mom, stayed away.
“Seriously, though,” he said, “what were you thinking about?”
“For the first time, I feel completely free of the whole Brittany and Cameron thing.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“I am too. Especially since she just asked again if I’d help plan the wedding.”
He didn’t look surprised. “I thought as much. I take it that means you’re still considering doing it?”
“It’s going to be one of the most important days of her life,” Zara explained. “I know she must really be missing having her father here to celebrate it with her. I can’t fill his shoes, but at the very least I can be there to give her support when she needs it most.”
Rory was silent for a few moments. “I would feel the same way with any of my siblings, no matter what they had done to hurt me. And I’m amazed by how strong you are. Strong enough to support Brittany despite everything.”
“But?” She could hear the word hanging silently in the air between them.
“I hate that she hasn’t apologized to you for seeing Cameron behind your back. When I think about how she lied to you…” His hands clenched. “I wish I had been there to protect you, Zara. And I wish I could make sure she never hurts you like that again. That no one ever hurts you.”
Zara had to kiss him—he could be cocky and overbearing and had terrible taste in music. But he was also wonderful.
“I feel the same way about you,” Zara said softly. “I wish I could turn back time to protect you from the way Chelsea and her friend blamed you for her accident, when all along you had tried to be nothing but kind.”