by Sharan Daire
“No, you’re right, as usual. Besides, if she stays…” My words fell off into an uneasy silence. Neither of us wanted to start hoping yet. We didn’t want to jinx ourselves before she even had a chance to see what we had to offer.
But if Shelby agreed to stay on with us at the lodge, I wanted her to have every luxurious treatment available to each lovely inch of her, whether pedicure or massage. We’d build a salon too if she wanted it. A high-tech theater. Anything she wanted.
As long as she stayed.
Fuck. It was too early to even think about having her here. Seeing her with my friends. Watching her smile and laugh and join us for dinner or poker night. I didn’t even crack open the door to anything else. Not yet.
A light knock sent me whirling toward the door, hands clenched at my sides, shoulders tight, body coiled. Not because of the PTSD, at least this time. Because I had to fight every muscle in my body from stomping over to fling that door open and drag her inside. To me. To us.
Shaking my arms loose, I rolled by head to soften my stance while Everett opened the door. The team we’d hired came in first, followed by my model. My vision. The unspoken inspiration behind my line—before I’d ever laid eyes on her.
She was dressed in the same average clothes she’d worn up here. Faded jeans, softened by regular wear and distressed perfectly at the knees, melded to her curves. A pretty but basic pink sweater. Her glorious hair glittered like garnets in the lights, though it was untamed and wild about her shoulders. I’d told them to do her face as natural as possible, just to highlight her beauty to start.
I wanted her to look like a basic, average woman off the streets, in the line of the One Direction song about the girl who didn’t realize exactly how beautiful she really was.
Everett let out a low whistle and gave several slow claps of approval. “Stunning, Shelby. Great job, team.”
Bewildered, she stared at him a moment and then darted a quick glance in my direction to gauge my assessment. “But it doesn’t look like they did anything.”
“Exactly,” I replied, moving over to my waiting camera. “It’s perfect. Let’s get this show started.”
She followed Everett over to tableau we’d set up to look like a basic table at a restaurant. Dressed in one of his slick lawyer suits, he looked like a rich asshole taking his lunch as he sat down at the table. She started to sit too, but he took her hand before she could move to the other chair.
“Chris wants to tell a story with this shoot. Do you have any experience as a waitress?”
Eyes narrowed, she pulled back slightly. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “Why?”
We’d agreed in advance that Everett would do the explaining, since my brisk manner made me come off as the asshole prick. Which was true, mostly, but I didn’t want to scare her off before we could make this work.
But he was fucking this up. “It’s a fairytale,” I said, relishing the way her eyes immediately snapped to me. She didn’t look away this time, or jump at my tone, so either she was getting used to me, or I’d managed to soften my edges enough to be tolerable. “An everyday fairytale. A hardworking, beautiful woman catches the eye of the slick asshole billionaire. He changes her life in an instant. Gives her everything she ever wanted, jewels, clothes, fine dining, a gorgeous house, even her own bodyguards.”
“And then?” She spoke softly, but challengingly, as if expecting me to break the illusion.
“They live happily ever after,” Everett said before I could, making my lips curl up in a snarl. Luckily, it made her laugh, not draw back with fear. Hope sprouted another fragile little green branch in the black depths of my heart.
She picked up the apron lying over the back of the other chair and tied it on. “So the waitress becomes a fake princess?”
“No. She was always the princess. She just didn’t realize it yet.”
16
Shelby
Call me crazy, but I was actually starting to get into this whole model gig. I still didn’t completely believe them… Certainly the whole princess part. That made me blush and laugh, waving their praise away. But it was easy pretending to take Everett’s order. I’d done that a million times, though certainly never from a rich, handsome man.
Men like him didn’t tend to wander into greasy spoons where I worked.
“Just act naturally,” Chris said in that gruff, no-nonsense voice. “Forget about the camera, until I tell you to look at me. Trust me to take the shots I need while you focus on the story.”
Everett took my hand, his thumb stroking a circle against my palm. Holding my gaze, he lifted my knuckles to his mouth. “You are so beautiful, Shelby.”
My cheeks heated. I dropped my gaze, trying to focus on the notepad in my hand, just as I would if a customer was being too flirty or personal. It was all part of the act. The story.
Not real.
“Can I get you anything else, sir?”
He flashed a sultry smile and kissed my hand again. His lips were deliciously soft on my skin. The tip of his tongue swirled ever so slightly around my knuckle. The faintest graze of his teeth. The wet heat of his mouth.
And it wasn’t only my hand that started to tingle at the sensation.
“Good,” Chris whispered. “Bite your lip a little. Pull away slowly, drawing out the caress. Good. Yes, that’s perfect. Ev, stand up slowly into her space, still holding her hand. No, Shelby, look at him. Tip your head up. Yeah. Hold that…”
Everett stood so closely that I could feel the brush of his chest and thighs against me. He still held my hand, drawing my palm against his chest, directly over his heart.
The rapid thumping of his heartbeat startled me. I wavered a moment, my gaze flickering away as my brain tried to process what it meant. This was all an act. A story. I couldn’t let myself get too sucked in—
But why did his heart pound like that if he wasn’t as attracted to me as I was to him right now?
He dropped his head closer to mine. “Tip your face toward the camera. Yeah, that’s perfect.”
His warm breath fluttered over my cheek, closer to my ear. Heat rose between us. He swayed slightly, his other hand settling on my hip, as if we were slow dancing. We didn’t need music. Not with this melody strumming between us.
“I love this,” he whispered against my ear, each word a caress of his lips. “I love that I get to hold you. I love that I get the first shot to be in the pictures with you. Too bad Kaleb and Derek had to work today, right? That means I have you all to myself.”
I was having a hard time catching my breath, but I tried to laugh off his words. “All to yourself? When Chris is snapping pictures and there’s three people waiting in the wings to fix my hair again?”
His tongue dipped into my ear, and my knees trembled and nearly folded. He caught me closer, pressing me against the full length of his delicious body. How could a man wear such an elegant suit and still feel like solid iron and muscle beneath it?
Sliding ever so slowly up my back, his palm finally landed around my nape. He tipped my head back and stroked my hair back from my face. His fingers danced over my cheek, his thumb over my mouth. My lips parted, my breath catching in my throat. His dark eyes burned, heavy lidded and sensual, capturing me. Holding me rooted to the spot.
Nothing else mattered. Not the camera. Not the hair and makeup people. The blazing lights. Not even his best friend who watched us, taking the pictures. All I could think about was Everett’s mouth settling over mine. He’d kissed me once before, when he and Derek had first introduced me to Chris.
I wanted another kiss. I wanted his lips pressed to mine, stealing my breath. His arms crushing me against his chest.
Instead, he released me and walked away. I swayed slightly, trying to regain my bearings. My chest heaved. My cheeks burned. I licked my lips, slightly shaking my head. My ears roared with the thundering beat of my heart. I swallowed hard, trying to get my body under control.
He hadn’t even touched me in an overtly sexual way, b
ut my hormones raged for more.
“Pick up the receipt,” Chris whispered in a gravelly voice.
Oh yeah. I swallowed again. I had a job to do. This was an act. A photoshoot. Remember? I picked up the receipt in trembling fingers and looked at it.
A fake phone number was scrawled at the bottom, but it was the tip that made my eyes widen. I blinked, trying to make sense of the numbers.
I’d worked a lot of years at a lot of diners. Let me tell you that of course I’d daydreamed about some rich patron leaving me a hefty tip just for fun. It was the dream, right? Some do-gooder paying it forward? But in all the years I’d been struggling to make ends meet…
Not one single person had given me a tip of more than twenty dollars. Which I’d thought extremely generous at the time.
Five thousand dollars was written at the tip line. Five THOUSAND. Dollars.
I knew it was fake. This whole thing was fake. But damn. If some rich dude had left me a fraction of a tip that large…
I whirled around toward where Everett had walked, to see him standing outside of the circle of blazing lights. Arms crossed, a smug smile on his face. Chris put the camera down loudly enough that I jumped slightly.
“Phase two,” he barked out.
The three stylists rushed forward, Carsen and Sagarika grabbing my arms to pull me back to the make-up room. Chatting excitedly, telling me how great the shots were. I smiled weakly and tried not to let disappointment well inside me.
But I couldn’t get that obscenely large tip out of my head. That much money would change my life—and my kids’ lives—forever.
If I can make something close to that with these pictures, it’ll be a dream come true.
17
Kaleb
Sighing, I waited for my brother to pick up. He should have been done with court this morning and headed back to the lodge by now.
He answered on the third ring. “Hey, bro. Are you up at the lodge yet?”
“Not yet, but I will be shortly. I think we have a bit of a problem here.”
“What? Is Shelby okay? Did she change her mind?”
“No, no, nothing like that. At least I don’t think so. It’s about her car.”
“Oh. What’s wrong?”
I blew out a sigh. “Nothing. I got all the parts in this morning. I could have this beater put back together tonight with an hour or two more of work.”
“No way.”
“Yeah. I mean, there’s a ton of work to be done, for sure. But it’s just basic maintenance shit.”
“Huh. I guess they don’t make cars like they used to.”
“You could say that again,” I grumbled. “She’s solid. A bit of rust to buff out. The engine is in great shape. She’s just been neglected. I replaced the busted belt that caused her to die in the first place, and then all the other belts. I’ll change out all the fluids and filters, put in new struts and tires to be safe. But the car is actually in excellent shape.”
“We’ve got to delay at least a few days. You heard Shelby yesterday. She doesn’t want to outstay her welcome, as if that would ever be possible. Can’t you make up something else that’s wrong? Something that’ll take you a few days to fix? We need more time to make sure she knows how serious we are.”
“You want me to lie to her? Fuck that shit. No way.”
“Not lie, exactly. Just come up with something else that needs work, that’ll take you a while to find. Maybe a rebuilt transmission, that radiator you mentioned. Anything.”
“But her car doesn’t need a new tranny. I changed out the fluid and it’s fine.”
Derek scoffed. “Come on, since when does a mechanic not know a way to stretch out a repair bill?”
“I resent that remark. I pride myself on being fair and doing good work.”
“I know, sorry. You’re a great mechanic.”
I flopped down on one of the barstools I kept around the garage. “She’s a tank, D. A heavy, well-built, beautiful tank. With new belts and fluids, this old girl is going to take care of Shelby another five years, easy. There’s no modern computer chip to fritz out. The wiring is all solid. The bench seat in the back is worn and has some tears and spills, likely from the kids, but that’s it.”
“There you go. See if you can find a new bench seat. That’ll take a while, won’t it?”
“Dude, don’t you think I already called around and found one? It’ll be here tomorrow.”
“I’m turning off of AA. I can swing by the garage and take a look. Maybe bust out the taillights for you or something.”
He was joking. Surely. “Nah, head up to the lodge. I’ll meet you there. Chris just texted me a ‘where the fuck are you’ notice that they’re ready for us, and we still have to get changed.”
“See you there.”
I hung up and shook my head at Bessie, though I gave her an admiring bumper to taillight once over. “You done good, old girl. Thanks for taking care of Shelby and the kids for so long. But couldn’t you have one challenging thing for me to fix?”
SHELBY
The morning had flown by, followed by a nice lunch with the kids and Everett in the private dining area of the lodge. Both kids had nothing but glowing approval for Miss Maggie, even Liam, who was generally slow to warm up to people. He gulped his chicken strips down so he could hurry back to finish the surprise he was working on. Allie gave me a quick hug and followed him, hopping and skipping down the hallway like she owned the place.
“Are you ready for Phase Two?” Everett asked, drawing my attention back to him. He still wore the dressy slacks from the suit, but he’d discarded the jacket and tie. The crisp, white shirt hung open at the neck, giving me an intriguing hint of throat, and he’d rolled the sleeves up slightly.
It was ridiculous to swoon over forearms, but the sinew and tendons of his wrists and arms did crazy things to my libido. All that tanned skin and muscle. So masculine and thick with muscle. I could only imagine how sculpted his bare chest would be.
I cleared my throat, looking away. “Well, that depends on what Phase Two is.”
He laughed softly as we headed back to the make-up room. “Chris is calling in the big guns for the afternoon.”
I assumed that meant Kaleb and Derek, but I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant. My nerves zinged with energy and anticipation, whatever it would be. Especially if Everett was still involved. Though at the rate this photoshoot was going, it’d soon be too X-rated for any real advertising.
This time, the team actually did my makeup and hair to what I’d first assumed a model would look like with a daring smokey eye and elegant up-do. They’d set up a curtained-off area for changing, and I found the red velvet dress waiting, along with brand new lingerie. I picked up the black scraps of silk and lace, feeling my cheeks heat.
I definitely needed new panties, and my boring white bra would look ridiculous peeking out from the low bodice. Plus all my stuff was yellowed with age with saggy elastic. When you had growing kids, a second nice bra was a luxury I couldn’t afford. Though it still made me cringe a little to think about Chris or one of the guys thinking about what cup size I’d need.
I wasn’t used to a man thinking about me that way. Certainly not a man of Chris or Everett’s caliber. Had Rob ever bought me nice lingerie to wear? I couldn’t remember. He’d gotten me a robe one year for Christmas when Liam was born, but it’d been the typical boring terrycloth special at the discount store.
I slipped into the black silk lingerie and looked at myself in the full-length mirror. Sure, I had some stretch marks. My stomach was far from flat. My hips were rounded, and I certainly didn’t have a thigh gap. My breasts were full and heavy, a little saggy after breast-feeding both kids. But damn. Some black silk that lifted and molded my curves actually looked good. Damned good. Despite my mommy bod, I actually looked…
Hot.
Stunned and a little giddy, I slipped the dress over my head and then stepped outside so Sagarika could help me zip it up. I still had t
o shimmy and suck in my tummy despite Chris’ modifications, but the dress hugged every inch of me.
Oh. My. God.
I stared at myself, stunned senseless as the team touched up my face and tweaked the curls that’d been ruffled by the dress sliding over my head. I couldn’t believe the transformation. I looked… I felt…
Amazing.
Holding on to Carsen’s shoulder, I slipped on the three-inch gold stilettos that also fit me perfectly. My legs looked ten miles long. I didn’t look matronly at all. Somehow the skin-tight dress made me look curvy as hell, not bulgy with rolls.
I wobbled a little as I walked across the hall to the photoshoot area. I wasn’t used to heels at all. Hopefully I wouldn’t break my ankle. That would make waiting tables difficult once I got…
Home? Where was home now? What was I going to do?
For the first time since I’d packed up the car and left Dallas, I wasn’t sick with worry. Maybe I’d earn enough with these pictures that I could take a few weeks off from waitressing. Maybe even long enough to take a few classes at a community college or something. One could dream, right?
I had options. For the first time in longer than I could remember. And I owed it all to these men.
These unbelievable gorgeous men, who turned as I stepped into the room. All four of them stared at me, eyes blazing with hunger.
Something came over me. Maybe after hitting rock bottom and then finding my way here, a kernel of my personality said fuck it. Maybe it was finally seeing myself in their eyes for once and realizing that yeah, I was fucking gorgeous. At least in this dress. Whatever it was added an extra degree of sway to my steps. Chin up, shoulders back and proud, I strode toward them feeling like a million dollars.
“Incredible,” Derek growled out in that deep, menacing voice of his.
“Told you so,” Kaleb said at the same time.