but it wasn't everything. The other piece of the puzzle was what I'd said I would think about—an invitation to fly out for a weekend to see his band. It had sent familiar panic through me and all I could do was put my head down and get back to work. Work was safe.
"Okay." He glanced down at his feet and when he looked back up, his eyes were hypnotic, as if they were shiny pools of molten metal. "It's just that I like to know where I stand. I don't want to make an idiot of myself, you know, if I don't have a chance. Sometimes I have a very hard time reading you."
I tried to imagine a scenario in which Peter wouldn't have a chance with a woman. That seemed impossible. It was no surprise he had a hard time reading me, I was torn between a crushing dose of attraction and my rules of no attachments and no sleeping with guys I might want to keep as a friend. It wasn't fair to him, but that was already Strike One against Peter.
"We talked about this the day we met. I don't get involved with clients."
"Ah, but I'm not really a client anymore. It's been a month since you photographed the band."
"True."
"So? My chances? Because I'll leave you alone if you want me to."
Of course I didn't want him to leave me alone. I was dumb, but I wasn't stupid. "Why don't we just have a drink and see where that gets us?" Even that much felt as though I'd stepped too close to the fire.
"Talk about a non-answer."
"Surely you appreciate the challenge of the unknown."
He laughed and shook his head. The soft light in the bar made his blue eyes blaze. It was enough to make me forget my name. "I love a challenge. When there's a payoff."
"Regardless of what happens, I'm sure you'll sleep like a baby tonight." I patted his arm, my breath hitching at how firm it was.
His eyes narrowed. "You're really just going to leave me flapping in the breeze, aren't you?"
"Sorry. No promises." I opened the door and glanced over my shoulder. Apparently the fit of my jeans was doing the job, as Peter seemed to have difficulty closing his mouth. "Shall we?"
The thick, late-May Miami air filled my lungs in the darkness, a sliver of a moon the only light out on the terrace. Stony and Gwen were seated at a table at the far end, but we were otherwise alone. Stony's arm draped across Gwen's shoulders and I was dismayed to see that she wasn't objecting. Her boyfriend Ted was a good guy and although they argued a fair amount, they were good for each other.
"She has a serious boyfriend," I grumbled as we approached.
Peter snaked his arm around my waist and tugged me closer. He leaned down to mutter into my hair. "I'm sure she can take care of herself." The tip of his nose grazed my ear, the most innocuous brush of skin against skin, and yet it made me desperate for air.
We each took our chair and Peter scooted his right next to mine.
"So, girls' weekend. What does that entail? Picking up strange men and dancing on the bar?" Peter asked.
"Oh yeah," I quipped. "Body shots. Orgies. You name it."
"Sounds suitably hedonistic for the life of a beautiful rock photographer." Peter reached under the table and smoothed his hand over my thigh.
I took a sip of my mojito to cool the heat he'd just created between my legs. Every time he touched me my defenses dropped. "Actually, it's just an excuse to order expensive wine at dinner and sleep in."
"That sounds even better." Peter trailed his fingers north at an achingly slow pace.
Words were my only way to stay on equal footing, to counteract the ways he broke down my resolve with his hands. "That's one way to start things," I said quietly.
He slid his hand back down to my knee. "I'll start this any way you want." He cocked his head to the side. The look in his eyes became impossibly welcoming. He was up for anything and everything. No question about that.
"Good to know," I mumbled, bristling with curiosity at the gentle swell of his lips. What would it be like to kiss him? Sweet and soft? Fast and furious? Part of me
"Okay." He glanced down at his feet and when he looked back up, his eyes were hypnotic, as if they were shiny pools of molten metal. "It's just that I like to know where I stand. I don't want to make an idiot of myself, you know, if I don't have a chance. Sometimes I have a very hard time reading you."
I tried to imagine a scenario in which Peter wouldn't have a chance with a woman. That seemed impossible. It was no surprise he had a hard time reading me, I was torn between a crushing dose of attraction and my rules of no attachments and no sleeping with guys I might want to keep as a friend. It wasn't fair to him, but that was already Strike One against Peter.
"We talked about this the day we met. I don't get involved with clients."
"Ah, but I'm not really a client anymore. It's been a month since you photographed the band."
"True."
"So? My chances? Because I'll leave you alone if you want me to."
Of course I didn't want him to leave me alone. I was dumb, but I wasn't stupid. "Why don't we just have a drink and see where that gets us?" Even that much felt as though I'd stepped too close to the fire.
"Talk about a non-answer."
"Surely you appreciate the challenge of the unknown."
He laughed and shook his head. The soft light in the bar made his blue eyes blaze. It was enough to make me forget my name. "I love a challenge. When there's a payoff."
"Regardless of what happens, I'm sure you'll sleep like a baby tonight." I patted his arm, my breath hitching at how firm it was.
His eyes narrowed. "You're really just going to leave me flapping in the breeze, aren't you?"
"Sorry. No promises." I opened the door and glanced over my shoulder. Apparently the fit of my jeans was doing the job, as Peter seemed to have difficulty closing his mouth. "Shall we?"
The thick, late-May Miami air filled my lungs in the darkness, a sliver of a moon the only light out on the terrace. Stony and Gwen were seated at a table at the far end, but we were otherwise alone. Stony's arm draped across Gwen's shoulders and I was dismayed to see that she wasn't objecting. Her boyfriend Ted was a good guy and although they argued a fair amount, they were good for each other.
"She has a serious boyfriend," I grumbled as we approached.
Peter snaked his arm around my waist and tugged me closer. He leaned down to mutter into my hair. "I'm sure she can take care of herself." The tip of his nose grazed my ear, the most innocuous brush of skin against skin, and yet it made me desperate for air.
We each took our chair and Peter scooted his right next to mine.
"So, girls' weekend. What does that entail? Picking up strange men and dancing on the bar?" Peter asked.
"Oh yeah," I quipped. "Body shots. Orgies. You name it."
"Sounds suitably hedonistic for the life of a beautiful rock photographer." Peter reached under the table and smoothed his hand over my thigh.
I took a sip of my mojito to cool the heat he'd just created between my legs. Every time he touched me my defenses dropped. "Actually, it's just an excuse to order expensive wine at dinner and sleep in."
"That sounds even better." Peter trailed his fingers north at an achingly slow pace.
Words were my only way to stay on equal footing, to counteract the ways he broke down my resolve with his hands. "That's one way to start things," I said quietly.
He slid his hand back down to my knee. "I'll start this any way you want." He cocked his head to the side. The look in his eyes became impossibly welcoming. He was up for anything and everything. No question about that.
"Good to know," I mumbled, bristling with curiosity at the gentle swell of his lips. What would it be like to kiss him? Sweet and soft? Fast and furious? Part of me
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