Page 30
Katie frowned. She’d presented the contracts to her brothers after her meeting with Mr. Fidderman. But still, Brody had insisted that they sit down with Eric and Liam on Monday. Typical Brody, he didn’t like the fact that the deal with Black Hills would tie her to Independence Falls and prevent her from taking the job in Montana. And Josh had taken his side.
She needed to give her brothers another reason to reconsider selling to Moore Timber. And that left her with Liam.
Studying the man in front of her, Katie drew her lower lip between her teeth. His T-shirt hugged his muscular back as he turned and reached into the bed of his truck. He withdrew a small duffel and returned for more. Her gaze drifted south, admiring the way his cargo shorts fit his butt.
Yes, she wanted to push her brothers away from the deal with Moore Timber. But maybe part of her simply wanted one more night with Liam Trulane.
“What’s in the bags?” she asked.
“We needed supplies.” Liam withdrew two shopping bags from the back of his truck. “I wanted to cook dinner for you tonight. But don’t worry, there’s no bacon in there.”
“You didn’t have to go shopping.” She’d tossed a jar of sauce and a box of pasta in her bag, figuring that would be enough.
Liam set the groceries beside his duffel. Standing in front of her, so close she could run her hands over his chest and feel the muscles beneath his faded “Moore Timber” T-shirt, he smiled at her, his brown eyes warm and welcoming. “I told you before, I’m doing things right this time.”
She shoved her hands in her pockets. Maybe no one would find out about tonight. Maybe her plan would fail. The thought of being with him, free from the complications of family and revenge—
“Katie Summers?”
Katie stepped to the side, moving away from Liam and the way his powerful presence toyed with her common sense and disrupted her plans. A tall young man, who looked like he belonged in front of the lens instead of behind it, smiled as he headed toward them, one camera around his neck and a bag in his hand.
The photographer set his bag down and offered his hand. “Clive Jones.”
“Yes.” She smiled, noting the firm way he shook her hand. His skin was smooth, so different from the rough, callused feel of Liam’s touch. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones.”
“Please call me Clive,” he said, flashing a smile that screamed, I was a male model in a past life.
“And you are?” Liam demanded.
“The photographer from Stolen Moments Photography.” He beamed at Liam before turning to the lake. “This place is stunning. The light on the water . . .” Clive raised his camera.
“Photographing nature is my first love,” Clive continued over the snap, snap, snap of his high-end digital equipment. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m passionate about Stolen Moments. Combine nature with beautiful women? It doesn’t get much better. I can’t wait to see the cabin. And that outdoor shower.”
Clive gave her a wink. She’d spoken to him on the phone, but Katie had harbored the idea that a man who took pictures of women in seductive poses would be creepy, looking at her as if envisioning her naked. This man was playful and enthusiastic, but minus the slimy dude/serial killer vibe. Thank goodness.
“He’s coming with us?” Liam turned to her, hands on his hips.
“To get a sense of the setting,” Clive explained. “Katie wanted to meet in person and show me the location for the photo shoot in advance of the party.”
“Photo shoot?” Liam said. “Katie, if this is one of your surprises—”
“Mr. Jones is a boudoir photographer.” Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Clive move away as if sensing they needed space to talk. Smart man. But given his line of work, he had to land in number of awkward situations.
“A what?” Liam demanded.
“He sets up intimate photo shoots for women to share with their partners,” she said, doing her best to quote the Web site. Her takeaway had been: This man takes pictures of women in their underwear or less. She had nothing against the idea if it made Georgia happy. But she had some concerns too, which was why she’d called his list of references first. All the women she spoke with raved about him.
“I wanted to meet him first. Make sure he wasn’t crazy. I didn’t want to meet him alone and he expressed an interest in seeing the cabin. It made sense to bring him along. Do a test run.”
“Have you lost your mind?” The muscles in Liam’s jaw jumped, his voice rising to the point that anyone—including the photographer—could hear them.
“It was Georgia’s idea.”
Liam closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I should have locked her in the spare bedroom when I had the chance.”
“She wants her party to be special. Memorable. But we don’t have a lot of options. Your sister can’t handle crowds and there is no way I’m jumping out of a plane.” She stepped back and turned toward the dock. “Let’s head out so we can do a few trail shots, check the place out, and get
Mr. Jones back before dark.”
She needed to give her brothers another reason to reconsider selling to Moore Timber. And that left her with Liam.
Studying the man in front of her, Katie drew her lower lip between her teeth. His T-shirt hugged his muscular back as he turned and reached into the bed of his truck. He withdrew a small duffel and returned for more. Her gaze drifted south, admiring the way his cargo shorts fit his butt.
Yes, she wanted to push her brothers away from the deal with Moore Timber. But maybe part of her simply wanted one more night with Liam Trulane.
“What’s in the bags?” she asked.
“We needed supplies.” Liam withdrew two shopping bags from the back of his truck. “I wanted to cook dinner for you tonight. But don’t worry, there’s no bacon in there.”
“You didn’t have to go shopping.” She’d tossed a jar of sauce and a box of pasta in her bag, figuring that would be enough.
Liam set the groceries beside his duffel. Standing in front of her, so close she could run her hands over his chest and feel the muscles beneath his faded “Moore Timber” T-shirt, he smiled at her, his brown eyes warm and welcoming. “I told you before, I’m doing things right this time.”
She shoved her hands in her pockets. Maybe no one would find out about tonight. Maybe her plan would fail. The thought of being with him, free from the complications of family and revenge—
“Katie Summers?”
Katie stepped to the side, moving away from Liam and the way his powerful presence toyed with her common sense and disrupted her plans. A tall young man, who looked like he belonged in front of the lens instead of behind it, smiled as he headed toward them, one camera around his neck and a bag in his hand.
The photographer set his bag down and offered his hand. “Clive Jones.”
“Yes.” She smiled, noting the firm way he shook her hand. His skin was smooth, so different from the rough, callused feel of Liam’s touch. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones.”
“Please call me Clive,” he said, flashing a smile that screamed, I was a male model in a past life.
“And you are?” Liam demanded.
“The photographer from Stolen Moments Photography.” He beamed at Liam before turning to the lake. “This place is stunning. The light on the water . . .” Clive raised his camera.
“Photographing nature is my first love,” Clive continued over the snap, snap, snap of his high-end digital equipment. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m passionate about Stolen Moments. Combine nature with beautiful women? It doesn’t get much better. I can’t wait to see the cabin. And that outdoor shower.”
Clive gave her a wink. She’d spoken to him on the phone, but Katie had harbored the idea that a man who took pictures of women in seductive poses would be creepy, looking at her as if envisioning her naked. This man was playful and enthusiastic, but minus the slimy dude/serial killer vibe. Thank goodness.
“He’s coming with us?” Liam turned to her, hands on his hips.
“To get a sense of the setting,” Clive explained. “Katie wanted to meet in person and show me the location for the photo shoot in advance of the party.”
“Photo shoot?” Liam said. “Katie, if this is one of your surprises—”
“Mr. Jones is a boudoir photographer.” Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Clive move away as if sensing they needed space to talk. Smart man. But given his line of work, he had to land in number of awkward situations.
“A what?” Liam demanded.
“He sets up intimate photo shoots for women to share with their partners,” she said, doing her best to quote the Web site. Her takeaway had been: This man takes pictures of women in their underwear or less. She had nothing against the idea if it made Georgia happy. But she had some concerns too, which was why she’d called his list of references first. All the women she spoke with raved about him.
“I wanted to meet him first. Make sure he wasn’t crazy. I didn’t want to meet him alone and he expressed an interest in seeing the cabin. It made sense to bring him along. Do a test run.”
“Have you lost your mind?” The muscles in Liam’s jaw jumped, his voice rising to the point that anyone—including the photographer—could hear them.
“It was Georgia’s idea.”
Liam closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I should have locked her in the spare bedroom when I had the chance.”
“She wants her party to be special. Memorable. But we don’t have a lot of options. Your sister can’t handle crowds and there is no way I’m jumping out of a plane.” She stepped back and turned toward the dock. “Let’s head out so we can do a few trail shots, check the place out, and get
Mr. Jones back before dark.”
Table of Contents
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