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When Farrah and Pascale walked into the office, the first thing I noticed was that his eyes lingered on her a little too long.

The second? He was standing far too close to her.

I didn’t like it one fucking bit.

I curled my hands in my lap underneath the table, trying to chill the fuck out because I was thinking like some hormone crazed frat bro, not the founder and CEO of a billion-dollar company. So I took a breath and focused on Farrah. She had a bright smile playing along her full lips and excitement danced in her eyes as she said, “We have a great idea for photos, but it’s a little unique, so I wanted to run it by you first.”

Pascale and Farrah exchanged an eager glance. And I knew I had it bad when I got jealous of a simple look.

“No need,” I said.Just get this guy out of my office,I didn’t say.

“Really?” Farrah asked. “You don’t even want to give it the Gage Griffen stamp of approval?”

“I hired you because you’re the expert, and I trust your taste implicitly.”

“But you always wanted to see the inspiration boards...” she said, seeming confused.

“Why are you arguing with me?” My voice was clipped. “Do you want me, someone with limited artistic experience, to micromanage the photography process?”

She shook her head, making her curls move over her shoulder. I wish I could push them back, reveal more of the olive skin at her neck. “But it does involve you.”

But I simply shook my head, locking eyes with her. “I trust you.”

Those beautiful brown orbs of hers practically gleamed, even under fluorescent lights. She smiled, clapping her hands happily together, and turned to Pascale. “You can pencil us in! We’ll see you and your team May thirtieth at two o’clock.” Pascale waved goodbye and left the conference room, and it felt suddenly smaller with only Farrah and me inside.

“Mr. Griffen, should Pascale speak with you or your stylist about your wardrobe? Or should we work with his preferred stylist?”

My eyebrows raised. “My wardrobe?”

She nodded. “For the photo shoot.”

“You’re taking pictures of me?”

“Actually... Pascale’s taking pictures of us.”

For the next hour, she explained the concept of the photo shoot, along with a preliminary shot list. She and Pascale had the idea to photograph fun and special moments a family might experience during their stay. From ordering multiple plates of room service to kicking off their shoes when they first got to the room.

She had volunteered her children and parents for the shoot. The only thing missing was a man.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t hire a model?” I asked. “We could find someone better looking than me and far more experienced.”

Farrah’s lips twitched like she was holding something back. “Pascale doesn’t work with models. Only with ‘real’ people. I almost couldn’t convince him that it was okay to have you in the shoot.”

“Why not?” I argued, already defensive for some reason. “I’m a ‘real’ person.”

Her laugh made something in my stomach stir. “You don’t have to use finger quotes around ‘real’ person. I know you’re real; you’re just not really with me.”

I let out a heavy sigh. “Eight hours a day, I’m with you. That should be enough.” Words I needed to take to heart.

“According to Pascale, it’ll do. So I hope you don’t mind sacrificing one of your Sundays, but I really think the final product will be worth it.”

Spending a Sunday with Farrah, at work, should have felt like a sacrifice to my limited free time, but it didn’t. In fact, how much I looked forward to it scared the shit out of me. And I didn’t get scared. Not when I was a kid facing a thousand-pound animal, not as an adult making life-altering business decisions. But Farrah changed everything.

So I simply said, “Have Mia put it on my calendar, and I’ll be there.”

As if she worried I’d back out, she got out her phone and called Mia immediately. “Hey, girl, hey! So I need you to block off Gage’s calendar for May thirtieth for a photo shoot at The Retreat...” My lips twitched as I listened to Farrah describe the shoot and Mia’s obvious surprise at my involvement. “Okay, I’ll see you for lunch tomorrow!”

I raised my eyebrows. “You and Mia are having lunch tomorrow?”