Luck of the Draw (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 1)

by Cheri Allan

  Jim walked toward his truck. “Runs in the family.”

  June 15

  Vacation: To get away and leave your old life behind. I could get used to this. The locals are friendly. The views are stunning. I’m eating way too much pizza and reading way too many novels. If only this life bore any resemblance to reality. *Sigh*

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ____________________

  “WOULD YOU STOP FROWNING? It’s not attractive.”

  Jim frowned at his cousin. “The sun’s in my eyes.”

  Grace let out a long-suffering sigh and let the camera sling around her neck as she walked over and repositioned his arm. “You’re not making an effort,” she chided.

  “We’ve been at this for nearly an hour. I’d call that an effort.”

  “Jim, you’ve got to relax. You’re too tense and stern. This isn’t going to sell calendars.” She put the camera up to her eye again. “Okay. Let’s try it again. Look at me and think sexy thoughts.”

  Jim pulled his foot off the sawhorse they’d been using as a prop and unclasped his toolbelt. “Forget it. This is not working. I can’t look at my cousin and think sexy thoughts. It’s physically impossible.”

  “Oh, come on! That last one would have been good if you hadn’t kept frowning at me.”

  “I was squinting.”

  “Frowning,” Grace insisted.

  “What ya doin’?”

  Jim turned and nodded at little Liam as he pushed through the lilacs. His shirt was streaked with dirt, his hands and the toy car he held covered in more dirt. He couldn’t have looked happier.

  “Wasting time,” Jim said, swiping the sweat off his brow. Stupid calendar. How the hell did he get himself roped into these things?

  “Can I watch?” Liam wanted to know.

  Jim laughed despite his frustration and sat on the sawhorse. “Be my guest, but there’s nothing to see. Grace is leaving soon. And I’ve got a job to get to.”

  “Not until we finish this,” she said.

  “Forget it, Grace. I’m not calendar material.”

  “Liam? Liam!” Kate’s voice cut across the yard, followed by her footsteps.

  “He’s over here!” Grace called back. “Just visiting!”

  Kate shoved through the opening in the lilacs a moment later, her face lightly flushed from the heat of the day, her T-shirt and shorts, like her son’s, lightly smeared with dirt. She looked all lush curves and warm sun, and for some perverse reason, Jim couldn’t get her bare-chested gardening comment from the day before out of his head.

  “Liam, you need to stay where you can see mommy. That’s the rule.” Kate brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, leaving a smudge of dirt behind. Jim swallowed, fighting the traitorous urge to wipe it off. “I’m sorry if he bothered you.”

  “No bother,” Grace assured her. “But if you’re not busy, we could use your help.”

  “No, not busy,” Kate replied, avoiding Jim’s gaze. “Just weeding. What do you need?” She tried again to tuck the strand of hair into her ponytail. It brushed her cheek instead. Right near the smudge of dirt. Jim’s gut twisted.

  Grace flipped around her digital camera and began scrolling through the shots they’d taken. “Can you look at these? We need a good picture for Grams’ fundraising calendar, you know?” Kate nodded in understanding. “I say we don’t have a good shot yet. He says we’re done. What do you say?”

  “I don’t think Kate—” Jim began.

  “I’d love to help,” Kate assured them. “I studied art in college. Maybe I can give some tips on composition?” She wiped her hands on her hips and moved past him to get a better view of the camera. Jim busied himself inspecting a frayed loop on his toolbelt while the women discussed the relative attractiveness of each pose.

  “Mmm. That one’s not bad,” Kate murmured. “This one’s a good pose, but he’s kind of frowning...”

  “Squinting,” he muttered in his own defense, “I was squinting. The sun was in my eyes.”

  “This one’s nice,” Kate continued, pointing at the view screen as if he’d never spoken. “Definitely a possibility...”

  “I thought so, too,” Grace said. “But it’s missing something. That spark, you know?”

  Kate nodded, which didn’t do great things for Jim’s self-confidence. He lacked spark? Since when? “Why don’t you try some with him standing in the water?” she asked.

  “Okay.” Jim pushed himself off the sawhorse. “I think we’re done. I’m not doing some cheesy swimsuit photo.”

  Kate looked up from the camera, her head at an angle, her baby blues brilliant in the sunlight. “It doesn’t have to be cheesy.”

  “You’re right,” Grace agreed, ignoring him entirely. “I hadn’t thought about doing any water poses, but it could make for a really nice background if we can avoid glare. Plus, it has that sensual appeal the others were lacking. Definitely worth a shot.” She started down the path to the lake then turned abruptly toward Jim. “Well? Aren’t you coming?”

  Minutes later, he stood on the small, rocky beach in his bare feet, waiting for the two women to decide where to position themselves and feeling like a fool. How the hell was he supposed to look sexy for a photo when his cousin was barking orders and a three year-old was making construction noises with his miniature backhoe in the sand?

  Then there was Kate. She kept biting her lip in that shy, nervous way of hers and bowing her head toward Grace’s behind the camera. Murmuring in hushed tones. Before he knew what was happening, he’d been told to step into the water up to his hips—but not too high, mind you—and to look at them with ‘bedroom eyes.’

  Grace snapped a couple pictures and the women huddled around the camera again.

  “I feel ridiculous,” he groused to no one in particular.

  “Only because you’re not cooperating,” Grace said. “Put your right hand on the dock. No, not like that. More... relaxed. Like you’re casually leaning on it.”

  “While standing in water wearing my jeans? Did I casually fall in, too?”

  “You’re frowning again,” Grace chided from behind the camera.

  Jim tried to smooth his features. He knew the sooner he made the women happy the sooner he could be done with the whole charade. If he was lucky, no one would vote for his photo and he wouldn’t be included in the damn calendar.

  “I’m thirsty.” Jim watched as Liam tugged at his mother’s shirt hem.

  A deer fly buzzed low over Jim’s head and landed in his hair. He smacked it hard and scowled at his cousin. “Are we almost done?”

  “No. Stand still...”

  “I’m really thirsty,” Liam whined.

  “Just a minute, Pumpkin,” Kate soothed.

  “I think that thing bit me,” Jim mumbled, fishing in his hair.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Grace yanked the camera strap over her head and shoved it at Kate. “Here. Maybe you can get him to behave. I’m taking Liam in for a drink.” And with that, she took the three year-old’s hand and marched back up the path toward the cottage.

  Kate watched them go then turned toward him. “I’m sorry. I truly was trying to help.”

  “It’s not your fault. She needed a break.”

  Kate nodded. Bit her lip. Fingered the camera strap. “We can wait. For Grace. If you like.”

  Jim picked the dead fly from his hair and chuckled in wry amusement as he flung it over the dock. Nothing sexy about this photo-shoot at all. “I don’t think waiting for her will make this any less a supreme waste of time. But thanks.” He took a step toward shore. Could anything feel worse than wet jeans?

  “I’d be happy to try,” she was saying, “taking some shots, that is... if you wanted. Maybe it would be easier—you know—with fewer people watching.”

  He stopped short, the water lapping around his thighs. For some reason her tentative question, the way she nibbled her bottom lip, the sound of the water, brought back the memory of when she’d first stood to face him on the chick
en raft. His gut tightened. He had to get out more. “You don’t have to,” he said.

  She smiled, a shy smile, the same one that hinted at a less shy Kate lurking somewhere underneath. He remembered that Kate, too. “I don’t mind.”

  He shrugged. “Okay.”

  She focused on familiarizing herself with the camera settings.

  His lips twisted as he watched her, intensely aware of her. That they were alone. “I’m sorry, by the way.”

  She glanced up. “Sorry?”

  He winced, embarrassment knotting his stomach. Cleared his throat. “For the other night. I’d just come back from a fire call and I was filthy. I didn’t think anybody would be out here. I don’t normally—”

  “Oh,” she said, a blush creeping up her nape. “It was so dark, I didn’t see much. I wasn’t even sure—”

  “I just don’t want you to think I’m some exhibitionist. I don’t usually—”

  “It’s okay,” she said just as quickly. “I’d practically forgotten about it. Really. Think nothing of it.”

  He nodded. “Great.”

  “Great.” She stared at him for one awkward, aware moment then seemed to remember the camera looped around her neck.

  “So, why don’t we get started?” she asked, raising the camera. The shutter clicked. “Can you, ah, move back to where you were a minute ago?” Click. “Right there is good.” Click.

  “You’re taking a lot of pictures.”

  “Habit. I have a three year-old, remember? I’m used to a moving target. You’ve gotta play the odds.” Click. “Now how about if we try it again with your hand on the dock, but maybe you could splay your fingers a little this time?” Click. “Nice.” Click. “Can you face me more?”

  “Like this?”

  Click. “Right, but not too... yes.” Click. “Now lower your chin—not too much!—just a little...” Click. “But don’t frown.”

  “I’m not frowning.” He frowned.

  “Then don’t squint.” Her smile curved behind the camera. He could see her lips, plump, slightly parted. “Ooh,” they said, making a small ‘o’ shape. Click. “Very nice. Now hook your thumbs through your belt loops. There you go...”

  He felt his own lips curve and did as instructed. She was getting bolder as time went on. He liked that. It was chicken raft all over again. Strangely intimate with her behind the camera giving commands in that soft voice. “Nice, eh?” he asked. Click.

  “Don’t get cocky.” Her face peeked out to the side a moment. “And don’t talk.”

  He laughed as she disappeared behind the camera again. Click. “I’m not getting cocky.”

  Her lush lips curved again. They really were fantastic lips. “Yes, you are. And you’re still talking.” Click.

  He mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key. Click.

  “By the way, I had fun yesterday,” she said. Click. “I didn’t mean for you to lose.” Click. “But when you think about it, you started it.”

  Jim pointed to his own chest as if to say me?

  “Yes! You did. And as they say, all’s fair, right? So...” Click. “...no hard feelings?”

  He watched her, waiting, until she slid out from behind the camera again, then he shook his head. Smiled. Click. She retreated behind the camera. “Good.” Her lips smiled her relief. “You bring out the worst in me, Jim Pearson.”

  “That depends on your perspective.”

  “No talking,” she admonished softly, but he knew there was no heat in the reprimand. The camera clicked a few more times.

  “Thanks for helping with this,” he said.

  “You’re talking.” Her lips smiled. Click.

  “Sorry.” Click.

  “I’m happy to help,” she said.

  “Why? Because I’m kinda cute?”

  He watched as her cheeks flushed pink behind the camera. “You’re not going to let me forget that, are you?”

  He considered a moment. “Nope.”

  “That’s not very noble of you, holding that over a girl’s head. Turn to the right a little.”

  He turned. Click. “What makes you think I’m noble?”

  “I’d like to think I was a good judge of character.”

  “But you’re not?”

  Her easy smile faded. “Not a very good track record. You?” Click.

  “Hit or miss. But I think I’ve got you figured out now.”

  “Have you?” The amused smile was back. “Square your shoulders more. Mmm...” Click.

  “Yeah. I thought at first you might be trolling.”

  “Trolling?”

  “You know, fishing... for a man.”

  The camera dropped. “That’s hardly flattering.”

  “True, but it happens.”

  “I think you’re getting cocky again. I distinctly remember telling you I wasn’t interested.” Kate disappeared behind the camera. Click. “And just for the record, I’m not trolling.”

  “I know. You don’t have it in you. You blush too easily when you flirt.”

  “I’m out of practice,” she blushed.

  He grinned. “That was the other hint.”

  The camera clicked a few more times, then Kate paused, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she repositioned herself on the bank. Damn. Out of practice or not, she had a sweet sensuality that was making it hard for him to remember he was keeping his distance.

  Relationships were difficult enough when both parties wanted to make things work. But Kate had a son, and she’d lost her husband. Hell, she was still wearing her wedding ring. Despite her light flirtations, it’d be hard to overlook those obstacles. Jim knew she wasn’t in a place for a casual anything, and he wasn’t interested in anything else. Not after Justine.

  “Okay,” Kate’s lips moved and his gaze zeroed in on them. “I’m not trolling, but do you think you’d like to try a few shots... without the T-shirt?”

  He knew his eyebrows rose ever so briefly, knew she was hiding behind the camera, but as he watched the tell-tale flush creep up her neck and tint her cheeks again, a flood of arousal coursed through him, and he felt himself respond to her despite his better judgment. She was more dangerous than any troller, he realized. She was sexy without even knowing it.

  Click.

  “I suppose it is all for a good cause.” Then he grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head.

  June 16

  Flirtation. Some call it harmless. Some call it scandalous. Some call it a lost art. I don’t know what to call it except... wow!

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ____________________

  KATE WOKE THE NEXT MORNING to the shrill ring of the phone on her nightstand.

  “Hello?”

  “Kate, it’s your grandmother.”

  “Nana? What’s...? It’s only,” she peered at the clock, “seven a.m.”

  “I’m sorry. Were you not awake?”

  Kate spit out her night guard, pushed the hair out of her eyes and slumped against her pillows. “Yes. No. I... Liam’s sleeping in. We made s’mores on the beach last night with... Anyway, we were up pretty late. What’s up?”

  “I’m coming home early. Today, as a matter of fact. Turns out if you’ve seen one quilt, you’ve seen them all. I’m calling to see when I can stop in and see my favorite little boy. I miss him. I know it’s only Tuesday, but I was hoping to catch you and see if we can get together later this week. I thought I’d better check with you now so you could fit me into your plans.”

  “We have no plans, Nana. We’re still getting settled.”

  “Good! Then maybe we'll see each other in a couple days. How’s dinner and ice cream sound? There’s a new playground near the ice cream place. You think Liam would like that?”

  Kate chuckled. “I think we’d all like that.”

  “I’ll pop in tomorrow, then, and set something up. Oh, but not Friday. I’m getting together with the ladies Friday.”

  “Right. Speaking of the ladies, I think I sort of volun
teered to help Ruth Pearson with her beefcake calendar.”

  “Oh! Wonderful! Sounds like the perfect job to take your mind off everything.”

  “That’s the problem. I think it might be a bigger job than I’d thought, and I don’t have a lot of spare time to spend on something like that. I—” Wait. It’s not like she could admit she’d been sent on leave by Nancy to find her passion. Nana would have a field day with that one! “Besides. I don’t think it’s appropriate,” she said instead.

  “Well, you won’t sign up for a dating service. You never go out. Think of this as an opportunity to preview the eligible men in the area. What harm is there in that? No one has to even know it’s you. You can set up an e-mail account, assume a name. It’ll be completely anonymous.”

  “Right. I’ll just call myself Desperate in Dallas.”

  “Now, you’re being cheeky. It doesn’t become you. Just pick a character from your favorite book or something. Come on, Katie. It’ll do you good to see what’s out there.”

  “Nan—”

  “And, it’s for a good cause…”

  “So I’ve heard. Still—”

  “I’m sorry. I have to get going if I’m to make good time. Why don’t we talk when I get back?”

  “Nan—”

  The phone went dead. Kate slumped against the headboard. If she hadn’t had so much fun with Jim yesterday snapping pictures at the dock, she might actually feel more resentment over Nana’s heavy-handed interference in her personal life. God bless her.

  No sooner had Kate set the phone on the hook when it rang again. She picked it up. “Nana, it’s not polite to hang up on people when—”

  “Kate? It’s Jim. Jim Pearson.”

  “Jim!” Kate sat up straighter and ran a hand through her hair. “I thought— what’s up?”

  “I’m sorry to call so early, but...” He cleared his throat. “Can I come in?”

  “Come in?”

  “Yeah. I’m out front.”

  “You’re here?” Okay, when she’d fantasized about seeing him again, she hadn’t intended for it to be at the crack of dawn before she’d even showered! Kate scurried out of bed and peered through the curtain. Sure enough, there he stood on the front path.