The Winston Brothers

by Lori Foster

  He swallowed hard, still staring, taking advantage of the moment, since she remained unaware of him.

  Mack had always felt intrigued by her. She’d been so different from the flighty girls who’d flirted with him continually. But the few times he’d tried to talk to her, she had turned her small nose up in utter disregard.

  Well, she’d have to talk to him now. Thank you, Sophie.

  Jessica spoke easily with the woman, who struggled to control the chubby baby boy dressed in a miniature suit. She smiled, and Mack felt the impact of it clear down in his gut. In the time they’d spent together in class, he didn’t think she’d ever smiled, not even a glimmer of a smile. No, she was the epitome of seriousness, and it had made him nuts.

  Mack was a natural smiler. He liked being happy, friendly, courteous to everyone. But trying to wheedle a smile out of Jessica had been like trying to get a fish to sing.

  He still recalled the first day he’d seen her, when she’d walked into the same photo tech class, loaded down with books, looking conspicuous and nervous and uncomfortable. He’d been sitting in the front, and she’d sat as far in the back as she could get. He’d twisted all the way around to see her, but her gaze had met his only once, then skittered away.

  He’d taken the photography class out of casual interest, thinking it might be a way to make some of the lessons more fun for his students. And it had. But obviously it had been much more for her.

  While tickling the baby’s chin, she said, “I’ll call in about a week after I get the proofs together, and then we can set up an appointment for you to make your choices.”

  The woman sighed gratefully. “You’re a saint, being so patient with him. I don’t know why he was so fussy today.”

  Mack figured any guy stuffed into a suit had a reason to be fussy.

  The baby kicked, prompting his mother to hurry along. After they’d gone, Jessica checked her watch, rubbed her brow, then headed for the coffee machine. That’s when she noticed Mack.

  Drawing up short, she stared, her dark eyes widening, but only for a single moment. Then, with a carefully blank expression, she stepped forward and extended her hand. “Mr. Winston?”

  Mack resisted the urge to mimic Chase’s snort. There was no way she didn’t recognize him. Was there? Surely he’d made some sort of impression! But when her expression remained fixed, he started to wonder. Narrowing his eyes, he slowly stood and extended his hand. Here he was, indulging in erotic daydreams, and she didn’t even remember him. “That’s right,” he said, keeping his voice moderate. “Actually, we met in college a few years ago.”

  She blinked lazily as his hand enclosed hers. He felt her tremble the tiniest bit as she summoned a look of polite confusion. “We did?”

  Okay, so she’d always ignored him. She’d been as far from impressed by him as a woman could get. She’d still been aware of him, he was sure of it. And two years wasn’t so long that she could have totally forgotten him.

  He held her hand when she would have pulled away and tried for a cocky grin. “Yeah. We had a class together. Photo tech. Remember?”

  Suddenly she smiled, a very phony smile that set his teeth on edge. “Ah, I remember now! Mack Winston. You were the class Romeo who kept all those silly coeds in a tizzy.”

  She tugged hard and he let her hand go. “Class Romeo? Hardly.”

  She waved his words away, as if he were only being modest. “Yes, yes, I remember now. All those foolish girls crowded around you. Half the time I couldn’t hear the instructor for all their whispering and giggling. I think you probably dated every one of them. I was always rather amazed by your…stamina.”

  Every single word she said, though softly spoken, sounded like a veiled insult. It wasn’t something Mack was used to. But of course, nothing with Jessica, including his feelings, was ever as he expected.

  He rocked back on his heels and slowly looked her over, from the form-fitting jeans to the loose white sweater and braided brown hair. Physically, she hadn’t changed at all. She still turned him on. Even now, he could feel his muscles tightening, the heat beneath his skin. He wanted her, and all she’d done so far was insult him.

  Carefully gauging his words, he said, “I remember you being a recluse—and maybe just a little stuck up.”

  Her expression darkened, her brown eyes turning nearly black. “I was not stuck up! It was just that, compared to you…well, I was there to learn, not to socialize.”

  She sounded defensive, and he wondered about it. He also wondered what it would be like to kiss the mulish expression away from her lips. “This may surprise you, but I learned. I just had fun doing it.”

  “Now, that I can believe. The fun part, that is.”

  There was nothing distracted about Mack’s brain at the moment. No, he felt razor-sharp, focused, full-witted and aroused. He prepared to coach her on his idea of fun, when the young girl suddenly raced into the room. When she saw her mother and Mack facing off, she skidded to a halt. “Uh, Mom, I don’t mean to interrupt—”

  With obvious relief, Jessica turned away, effectively dismissing Mack. “That’s all right, honey. You’re not interrupting anything…important.”

  Her choice of words made Mack feel relegated to the back burner. He almost laughed because he recognized her efforts to distance herself. Yeah, she remembered him. She could deny it all she wanted, but he wasn’t buying it.

  “Well…” The young girl played with her hair, sneaking looks between her mother and Mack. “Since you don’t have any more appointments today, I was thinking of going to Jenna’s. Her dad will pick me up. She…uh, invited a few friends over.”

  “Friends, as in guy-type friends?”

  The girl grimaced, then leaned forward and said in an excited stage whisper, “Brian’s going to be there!”

  Mack watched as Jessica fought with her smile—another genuine smile this time. “Oh, well, in that case, how could I possibly refuse?” Before Trista could work up a loud squeal, she added, “I assume Jenna’s parents will be there the whole time?”

  “Yeah.”

  “All right, then. Call when you’re ready to come home and I’ll come get you.”

  Trista ran forward and hugged her mother, then with the energy exclusive to the early teens, charged out of the room.

  Mack chuckled. “She’s really cute.”

  “Thank you.” Jessica said it with pride, and for the first time Mack felt her defenses were down.

  “I gather Brian is a guy she likes?”

  Jessica almost laughed. “My daughter is suffering her first crush. And so far, the ‘totally awesome’ Brian hasn’t even noticed her.”

  “It’s a tough age for kids.”

  “You’re telling me! She went from wanting Barbie dolls to pierced ears overnight. Shopping has become an all-day expedition. And she absolutely hates her braces.”

  She seemed so natural, so at ease discussing her daughter, that Mack felt encouraged. He stepped a little closer, appreciating the softness in her eyes, the slight smile playing over her lips. He wanted to touch her, but of course, that would be over the line. “I didn’t realize you had a daughter. Especially not one that old.”

  Jessica immediately stiffened. “No reason you should know.”

  “Are you married?”

  She ignored him. “Sophie told me she was sending a male model.”

  “She sent me.” He held his arms out to the side.

  “Are you a professional?”

  “Not at modeling.”

  She didn’t take the bait. “This might be a problem. Getting just the right pose isn’t easy.”

  “I think I can manage—with a little direction.”

  She continued to eye him, then shook her head. “I’ve known Sophie for a while, knew that she married, but I never connected the last name.”

  Mack followed her as she started into the studio. Her jeans did interesting things for her bottom, and hazardous things to his libido. Jessica Wells was a lushly rounded w
oman. “Hmm. Why would you have? You didn’t even remember me, right?”

  She stalled and he almost bumped into her. His hands settled on her straight shoulders, but then she hurried away. “That’s right. Now, we should get started.” Again she checked her watch. “We’ve got a lot to get done today.”

  Mack folded his arms over his chest. “Sophie told me it might take a couple of shoots to get everything done.”

  “Oh, no. With any luck, I can finish up today.” She sounded nearly desperate as she said it, then rushed over to a long, narrow table and picked up a folder. “I have the catalogue layout right here. We’ll need about thirty pictures. Some of them just of your…uh…”

  Her gaze skimmed his lap, then darted away. “Just of the garments. Others will need all of you in them.”

  She seemed nervous, flitting about, grabbing up various papers and carrying them from one table to another. Mack leaned against the wall to watch her. For the first time in a long while, he felt totally absorbed in something other than worries about his future teaching position.

  The room was interesting. Props occupied every corner and filled several shelving units. One entire wall was empty except for large pull-down screen devices that held various backdrops. All of the camera equipment was centered at the far end of the room.

  The studio was at the back of the house and had two windows each on three walls. Dark shades kept out any sunlight, and bright lights had been turned on instead. Finally Jessica seemed to get herself organized. She began hauling a large box toward the table. Mack stepped forward to help her.

  Against her protests, he picked up the box and asked, “Where do you want it?”

  Resigned, she motioned toward the table. “Set it on the floor there. We have to figure out which things you’ll model. There’s a pretty good sampling of the, uh, briefs inside, and on the rack there’s other stuff.”

  She wouldn’t quite meet his gaze. Suspicious, Mack opened the box and peeked in. He immediately slammed the cardboard lid down again, then stared at Jessica.

  “What?” She leaned toward the box, but he pulled it out of her reach.

  Damn. He cleared his throat. “Let’s start with some other stuff.”

  She looked equal parts curious, hesitant, and determined. “Why? Sophie wants at least eighteen shots of briefs, to give a good sampling of what she’ll be offering. We’re supposed to do nine shots to a page.”

  Eighteen shots of him in tiny scraps of material? When he was already half hard? Ha! “Couldn’t they just be shot on a mannequin or something?”

  Her efforts at indifference weren’t overly effective. Her cheeks had turned a dusky-rose color and she wouldn’t quite meet his gaze. “Wouldn’t matter to me. But Sophie might not like it. She said she wanted her customers to see a real man wearing this stuff, to prove real men look good in it.”

  Mack grinned. “A real man, huh?” The color in her face intensified, and Mack totally forgot his own hesitation. He shoved the box toward her. “All right. You pick.”

  “Me?”

  “Sure. You have a trained eye, so you should probably be able to tell what’ll look best on me.” Feeling a little outrageous, he stood up to tower over her. He widened his stance, spread his arms out to his sides. “You might want to, ah, study my form first, right? I mean, so you have a good idea of what would look most complimentary on my particular physique.” She’d know he was aroused, but so what? He wanted her to know how she affected him.

  He watched as stubbornness surfaced in her expression. She stared back at him, hard, her gaze never leaving his face. Then without looking away from him, she reached into the box. She felt around and finally tugged out a teeny-tiny pair of paisley-print thong briefs. She thrust them toward him like a challenge.

  Mack almost laughed. With his baby finger, he accepted the briefs, which had no apparent backside and were so sheer that they weighed about as much as a hankie. Trying to sound earnest, he asked, “Do they, perhaps, come in a larger size?”

  Pretending to take him seriously, Jessica searched through her papers. “Nope. One size fits all.”

  Mack gave the outrageous briefs a dubious inspection. “Hmmm. I must be unique, then, because there’s no way these puppies are gonna fit me.”

  She lifted one slim brown brow. “Oh? They’re too…big?”

  Mack choked, but quickly recovered. He liked it that she now felt comfortable enough to tease. “Jessica, I don’t think you actually looked at me when I told you to.”

  She shrugged. “I did, but then I guess my mind wandered.”

  “Ah. Got you thinking of other things, did it?”

  “Actually, I forgot my glasses so I couldn’t really see the insignificant things…”

  This time Mack did laugh. She hadn’t looked at his body, only his face, or she’d have seen some very significant things. “You’re very damaging to a man’s ego, you know that?”

  She made a rude sound and shook her head. “As if your ego needed any help.”

  Just that easily, she went from playful to insulting again. He squatted down in front of her and leaned over the box to make certain he had her attention. “Why do I get the feeling you’ve made some assumptions about me, and none of them are particularly favorable?”

  With him so close, she looked startled and breathless. She jerked way back—and toppled onto her bottom. Amused by her telltale response, Mack stood up and pulled her to her feet. She quickly shook him off, as if his touch bothered her more than it should, then took two hasty steps back.

  “This is ridiculous,” she protested. “I don’t have all day to banter with you.”

  She was suddenly so flustered, he knew damn well she couldn’t have been as indifferent to him as she’d claimed. Only a woman aware of a man could be so affected by a simple touch. Why did she continue to deny it?

  He didn’t understand her. They’d been joking like old friends, having fun, and then suddenly she’d seemed to realize it and retreated back into herself. He crossed his arms and gave her a curious stare. “If you’re pressed for time, then we should probably get this cleared up right now.”

  She turned away and stalked to the clothes rack. She yanked down a hanger that held a black silk kimono robe with red piping and matching pull-on pajama pants. She thrust them toward him. “I have a better idea. Let’s just get some photos taken, like we’re supposed to.”

  Mack refused to take the garments. “Since you claim to barely remember me, and I know damn good and well I never did anything to make you dislike me, your animosity seems pretty strange.”

  “Look, Mr. Winston—”

  He barely choked back his laugh of disbelief. “Mr. Winston? Get real, Jessica. At least admit you remember my damn name.”

  There was a second of vibrating silence, then she seemed to explode. She tossed the clothing aside and thrust her chin toward him. “Well, with the girls all talking about you all the time, I suppose it’d be hard to forget!”

  Her sudden anger inflamed him. Her dark eyes were impossibly bright, her chin firmed, her cheeks flushed. Her lush breasts rose and fell in her agitation, and she had her fists propped on her rounded hips.

  He wanted to kiss her silly.

  He wanted to watch all that anger and frustration turn into passion. Just the thought made him catch his breath. He wanted to howl, because she made him hotter than a sultan’s harem, but she refused to let him close.

  Never in his life had a woman reacted to Mack the way this woman did. She seemed more comfortable ignoring, antagonizing, or insulting him than she did just getting along with him. It didn’t make sense—and for some insane reason, he felt more intrigued than ever.

  Marshaling his limited control, Mack shook his head and managed a relatively calm reply. “I’m definitely missing something here, and it’s not your hostility, because that’s pretty damn clear. So why don’t you just spell it out, Jessica? What’s the problem?”

  She struggled in silence, her nostrils flaring, and
then, after a deep, calming breath, she nodded. “All right.”

  She looked so serious, Mack held his breath.

  After licking her lips nervously, she said, “I resented you. Back then. Not now. As I said, I barely remember you.”

  Her breasts were still doing that distracting rise-and-fall thing that was making him nuts. He tried to pay attention to her words, but it wasn’t easy. “Uh-huh. So why did you resent me?”

  “Because I worked my behind off in college. It wasn’t easy going back, being so much older than everyone else and having so many more responsibilities. And I was raising Trista alone, and half the time the class was interrupted by the instructor fawning over you, or one of the girls asking me to pass you a note, or you making eyes at the girls—”

  Mack blinked at her, pleased by her admission. “If you’d been paying attention to the instructor, instead of me, you wouldn’t have noticed me making eyes, now, would you?” He watched her face heat again, the color climbing from her throat all the way up to her hairline. She had very delicate skin, not overly pale, just smooth and silky-looking.

  He wondered if she would flush like that during a climax.

  Her eyes, clean of any makeup, almost exactly matched the golden-brown shade of her hair. And that hair…he’d always noticed it in college. She kept it long, but he’d never seen it out of the braid. It was so thick, the braid so heavy, he could only imagine what it’d be like loose. He used to wait to take a seat until she had, so he could occasionally sit behind her. Without her knowing it, he’d touched her braid, felt how warm and silky it was.

  At least, he’d thought she didn’t know—until she started sitting in the middle of a cluster of students, ensuring he couldn’t get close.

  He watched her now as she gathered her thoughts. Little wisps of hair escaped her braid to float around her face, teasing him. He wanted to reach out and smooth them down, to reassure her, but judging from her expression, she’d probably sock him if he tried it.