Once we are seated and place our breakfast orders, Alyson chimes in and starts asking about last night. I expect nothing less from her.
“So, how was dinner? Anything I need to be concerned over?” A look of genuine worry pinches her brow line.
“Dinner was good. She was worried at first, because she didn’t see you. But after we talked for a few, everything went well.”
“And I’ll ask again. Anything I need to be concerned over?” Alyson persists.
“Nope. Just two old friends, eating together and sharing good conversation.” Maybe if I say it enough times, I will start believing it myself. Because Cora and I will always be more than “old friends.”
“And there were no flashes going off anywhere? From your phone or anyone else’s?”
“I didn’t catch any. No one around here knows me as a model. The only people who know me are the few friends I have still living here.” If anyone recognizes me as a model while I’m here, shocked wouldn’t begin to cover it. Yes, celebrities live in the area. But this isn’t Los Angeles, and people aren’t stalking celebrities. Not that I consider myself one. For the most part, when people spot celebrities here, they just whisper and go on with life.
She spins her fork in a circle on her napkin. “I hope you’re right.”
We finish breakfast in silence, and I take the time to do a self-evaluation of how I feel.
Being around Cora stirs up loads of memories and emotions I suppressed for years. But I can’t ignore how I feel when near her. The way my heart rattles my ribcage. Or how my stomach quivers with excitement. Of course, I plan to follow etiquette and maintain a professional appearance while working, but once “off the clock” I cannot speak for my actions. I also won’t resist what is right in front of me.
Because each moment I have with Cora, I intend to take full advantage. This shoot could be complete happenstance. Or maybe it is kismet. Personally, I believe in the latter.
After Alyson and I leave the restaurant, we stop at the juice place up the street. Cora had one of their juices the other day, so I Googled the business. Once I buy something for each of us, even grabbing a duplicate of Cora’s drink for Erin, we jump back in the car and drive up the street to the main hub of downtown.
It is eight-thirty in the morning on a Thursday, and the streets already have people walking and bicycling everywhere. Downtown Dunedin is a quaint place. I hadn’t come here much when I lived in the area, but I can see I missed out.
Restaurants and boutiques and eclectic shops line the streets. People bustle along the sidewalk, going from one shop to the next. Some people just sit on benches under trees and chat about what a nice day it is outside. And as busy as it is, it’s not busy at the same time. Everyone is friendly as smiles are shared amongst complete strangers.
It’s pieces of home like this that make me want to return.
Don’t get me wrong. There are many stretches of California I love. Forests and mountains and waterfalls. Many I would love to show to Cora, knowing her love for the wilderness. But I haven’t been anywhere resembling this. The happy town with ever happier residents. Everyone shares warm greetings and pleasant words and exchanges hugs. It makes me homesick for a place I haven’t called home in a long time.
Alyson parks the car in a small lot near the epicenter of downtown and we walk over to the outdoor trail, standing in the shade. Cyclists whip past us, waving and smiling. Dogs sniff the grass as they walk alongside their owner. People window shop the storefronts nearby.
“She emailed me early this morning and said for us to meet her here,” Alyson tells me.
A moment later, Cora and Erin pull into the parking lot at the same time and park beside Alyson’s rental car. My eyes remain fixed on Cora behind my sunglasses as she gets out of the car and strolls to the back hatch, opening it and taking out her camera bag.
“Check yourself, Hunt,” Alyson chirps behind me.
“Did I do something, Miss Jameson?” I curl my lip at her. She is really starting to piss me off.
“First, remember that you hired me to do exactly what it is I am doing. Second, don’t take that tone with me. You will respect me.” Alyson stares at me like a mother scolding a child. In some respects, she is correct. I did hire her to keep me “in line.”
But she also needs to remember her place in the grand scheme of things.
“I know what I hired you to do. And since I’m the one signing your paycheck, I suggest you check yourself. I’m fully aware of my boundaries. And if I want to cross them, it’ll be when the shoot is done. Which, by the way, is only a few days from now.” I pause and lower my voice since Cora and Erin are walking our way. “I’ll be here a few days after the shoot ends, I intend on enjoying that time however I see fit.”
Alyson purses her lips. “You’re the boss.”
Damn right I am. Best you remember.
Cora and Erin step up and I hand them the juices I bought them. “Good morning, ladies. Just something to help keep you going today.”
Cora’s lips curve up at the corners while Erin blushes at the gift. It’s just juice, not a bundle of flowers. Maybe Erin is naturally timid and the rosiness comes easily. Or there is the possibility she knows about the “meeting” last night. Whatever, it doesn’t bother me either way.
I glance down at the chunky watch on my wrist to see it is just after one when we wrap up for the day. This shoot dragged out longer due to the amount of pedestrian traffic we had to avoid for photos. It’s challenging to capture someone’s face, and their attire, when people walk all around you.
Erin heads to her car, and Alyson to the rental. I tug on Cora’s hand and keep the two of us by the trail for a minute, giving us a fraction of privacy while we talk.
“What’s up?” she asks, her tone casual and light.
“Just wanted to say thanks again. For not walking away from me last night. And for hanging out. Was nice to see you outside of all this.” I wave my hand around us.
“It was nice,” she says as a smile softens her features. “Do you want to go out with everyone tomorrow? We’re going bowling.”
“I’d love to. Who’s everyone?”
“Me, Erin, Shelly, and Jonas. We can ask Micah, too. If you want.”
All but one of those names is familiar. “I’ll text Micah and see if he wants to go. Who’s Jonas?” Because I really want to know. Jonas is not the name of any female I have ever met. Micah would have told me if Shelly has a boyfriend. And Erin seems too innocent to be dating—although, I could be way off base with her.
“Jonas is a friend. He helped me try to fix my old car years ago. It had so many problems and I was a frequent shopper at the mechanic shop he works at and we just became friends. He’s a nice guy. I think you’ll like him.”
A furnace boils in my veins as I try tapering my emotions before I say something harsh. It is not my place to play the jealous anything. I lost that privilege years before she met this Jonas person. And I know absolutely nothing about him.
But that doesn’t stop my truths from surfacing.
Am I still in love with Cora? Absolutely. There is not a day of my future I foresee not loving her.
Does that give me the right to dictate who she hangs around? Nope, not one bit. If she tells me she and this Jonas character are just friends, I believe her.
So, I suck it up like a trooper and put on the smile I have been trained to use. “If you think so, I’m sure it’s true.” I relax my forced expression, only because she is looking at me as if she can see right through it. “Will you give me your number?”
She shakes her head for a few beats. “Why? Don’t misunderstand me,” she says as she jerks her head toward Alyson. Her teeth tug on her lip as she regards Alyson’s eyes on us. But I don’t give a fuck. Alyson can take her sinister stares and fly them back to California.
“So I can text you after I talk with Micah.” That’s a perfectly sufficient reason to need her number, seeing as she asked me to join them.
I open up a new text and she prattles off her cell to me. When she finishes, I type a message and send it to her. Her phone chimes in her back pocket and a smile dons my face as my heart beats a little faster.
I glance up and see Alyson drilling holes through me with her eyes. Her irritation is raking my nerves. “I should head out,” I tell Cora, although it’s the last thing I want to do. If anything, I would love to spend the rest of the day wandering downtown, holding her hand and chatting more.
“Me, too. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.” I lean into her, wrap my arms around her midsection and inhale her scent. She smells so much better than I remember. The perfect blend of frankincense and gardenia. Against every fibrous desire in my body, I release her and head to the car, giving her a small wave after I get in.
Once we are out of the lot and driving back toward the hotel, Alyson decides it is time to give me her two cents. “I get that you think you know what you’re doing, but please be careful. There are only two days left for the shoot. All I’m saying is to be mindful.”
I opt to not respond, and the drive back to Clearwater Beach takes twice as long. But during the entire ride, Alyson’s words repeat in my head.
Be mindful.
Chapter Thirteen
Cora
The fifth day of the shoot comes and goes and remains uneventful. Which boggles my mind.
The shoot was on the beachside of the hotel, this time in the water. Normally, a shoot like this would be classified as simple, easy. The model is out in the water, playing amongst the waves, posing on occasion and I snap the shot. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.
But, of course, with Gavin it is the complete opposite.
The shots weren’t difficult to capture. My breath, on the other hand, seemed to get lost in the breeze. My racing heart chasing on its heels.
Sitting cross-legged on my bed, I pick up my camera and remove the SD card. After inserting it in the card reader, I plug it into my laptop and download the photos. A few minutes later, my eyes are inundated with thousands of photos of Gavin in the surf. I scroll through the tiled photos, clicking on this one and that one. Some appear the same with maybe a slight angle change with his chin or eyes. Others are noticeably different.
My finger taps the trackpad and the next photo fills the screen, corner to corner. I suck in a breath at the sight before me, my eyes glued to the screen and glazing over. I can’t look away. Can’t stop the category five hurricane wreaking havoc on my insides.
Today’s shoot started earlier than the previous days. We needed to have Gavin in the water with no one nearby. In order to do that, he was in the water as soon as the sun started rising behind us in the east. The lighting was just enough to see him and the shorts hanging low on his hips.
The photo in front of me left me speechless.
Gavin stood in the water, the surface a few inches below the waistband of the shorts. His torso slightly twisted, palms resting on top of the water outstretched, his profile staring south into the distance. The dim morning light just enough to outline his silhouette. The length of his hair hiding parts of his profile. His contours defined with glimpses of curves and valleys and sinew, and droplets of water beaded on his skin. And the sharp edge of his stubble-covered jawline.
“Wow,” I whisper-gasp to myself.
This photo… consider me stunned.
Stunned by his gorgeous features, the relaxed muscles peaking and dipping and contouring in all the right places. Breathless by his form and posture in the light. Shocked by the way my chest heats and thumps vigorously at the sight of him like this. In his element and one-hundred-percent himself.
Flashes of his love for the beach wake from my memory. Not for the fine, white sands or the warm, salty water. But for the serenity it provides him. The occasional stillness mixing with absolute chaos. How the sun dips below the horizon and lights the sky in breathtaking pinks and oranges. We watched so many sunsets together before he left. No two the same. And each time, I watched him from the corner of my eye, captivated by his tranquility.
This is him. Pure and uninhibited.
And this photo may not be what the brand is looking for, but it is something I will never let go of. A piece of him. The real him. The Gavin I fell in love with all those years ago.
My finger strokes over the photo, the outline of his triceps and forearm. I sigh and drop my hand from the screen.
I am fucking hopeless. And screwed.
I save the photos to my external drive and shut down the computer. My head still in the clouds as I dream of Gavin in my life in ways he never has been. Jumping up from the bed, I startle Luna in the process.
“Sorry, Luna. Momma’s head is somewhere in la-la-land right now.”
I head for the bathroom and crank the hot water in the shower, praying the spray will snap me out of my thoughts. Thoughts which will more than likely lead down a fresh path of sadness and heartache. I should be trying to erase the daydreams running circles in my head, right? Erase them and replace them with Gavin’s inevitable departure. The more days that pass, the closer it gets to the end of the shoot. And the sooner this dream will fade away. Because that is all this is. A dream.
The parking lot of the bowling alley is packed. I wind up and down the rows in search of a vacant space, finally parking after I hit the fourth row. Jogging up to the entrance, I spot Shelly and Micah and slow when I notice they are in a heated conversation.
As I approach, Micah notices me and stops speaking, an artificial smile marking his face.
Great. I must have been the topic they were arguing politely about.
“Hey, Micah,” I say, laying the sweetness on a little thick. “Long time no see.”
Shelly bounds over to me and squeezes me as if I’m her lifeblood. Micah watches us, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth as he mumbles something unintelligible.
What the hell is his problem?
“Just ignore him. He’s pissed because he thinks you and Gavin will ruin his night of fun,” Shelly tells me before sticking her tongue out at her brother.
Not quite sure how he thinks us bowling together is going to disrupt his good time. And if I’m honest, I don’t really care about his feelings. I have seen Micah a couple times over the last year. About the same number of times I see him every year. And usually that is because I attend gatherings with Shelly where he happens to be also.
Whatever. He can suck it up like the thirty-one-year-old big boy he is.
“Micah,” I say, snagging his attention from the parking lot. “The only person that can ruin your night is you. So…”
In all his my-best-friends-big-brother glory, he salutes me with his middle finger. Asshole. And so immature. An outsider would peg him as the youngest out of all of us.
I loop my arm in Shelly’s and we skip into the bowling alley, ignoring the dipshit standing outside. We head over to the check-in counter, pay for shoes and receive our lane number. I shoot a text to Erin and Jonas, letting them know Shelly and I are inside and which lane number we are at.
Shoes laced up, Shelly and I go in search of the perfect bowling ball. When we return to the lane, Jonas is there and swapping his steel-toe boots for the snappy red and blue bowling shoes. He notices us step into the bowling circle and lifts his head up, a megawatt smile spreading his lips. I have missed his face this week.
“Hey, ladies. What time does galactic bowling begin?”
I wrap my arms around him, hugging him as hard as I normally do. “In about fifteen minutes.”
Just as I release him of the hug, I hear footsteps thunder behind me. I turn to see Micah and Gavin, and before I can greet Gavin, I stop myself. The relaxed and soothing demeanor Gavin has displayed toward me all week is nowhere to be seen. Instead, it has been replaced with ego and rage and maybe a hint of jealousy.
He needs to chill the fuck out.
“Gavin,” I sing,
“this is Jonas. Jonas, this is Gavin.”
I wait for one of them to be the bigger man and offer their hand to shake. An eternity passes before Jonas rises from the plastic bucket-style seat and offers his hand. How did I know he would be the one to extend the olive branch? Maybe because he and I don’t share the same sort of history Gavin and I do.
“Hey, man. Nice to meet you. Cora’s told me a little about you.”
Gavin shakes his hand, his eyes sizing up Jonas in the process. “Has she now? And what, pray tell, has she told you about me?” His voice laden with sarcasm and authority and ownership.
For fuck’s sake. Put your dick away, Gavin. This is not the time or place.
“Just that you guys dated in high school and she hasn’t seen you in years. Until this week, of course. She said the shoot has been great, though.” Jonas’s tone is calm and collected. But his choice of words is meant to inflict guilt and envy.
Seriously? I do not want to be the center of some stupid pissing match. Why is it so difficult to be friends with men?
Gavin’s eyes narrow and I almost see the witty comeback he works hard to deliver. Everything inside me just wants this to stop, so we can have a few drinks, eat some greasy pizza, and play hours of black light bowling.
And just when I think Gavin might keep his mouth shut, he proves me wrong.
“It has been great. Nothing like spending several hours of the day with a beautiful woman. And an evening too.”
That’s it. I have had it. I shove against Gavin’s chest. Hard. “Okay, okay. We all get it. You both have dicks. Could you stop being one so we can have a good time? I don’t plan to spend my evening defending myself against testosterone.”
I watch as he stares at Jonas, jaw clenched, before he softens his features and shifts to look at me. “Sure thing. Let’s have some fun.”
And before I realize what is happening, he bends down and kisses the corner of my mouth. I don’t respond. No flinch. No kiss in return. Nothing.
Through the Lens (Click Duet #1) (Bay Area Duet Series) Page 8