Page 9

Antoine

So he was the West who was getting up a shaved ice business. I probably should have asked if he was doing snowballs, but Roy would just have to wait and see.

I’d felt like a bit of a stalker when I followed West home, although I told myself that the only reason I had done it was to be sure he made it okay. The beating up a drug dealer thing? Yeah, that would not have happened. I’d have called the authorities and let them handle it. Or come up with another plan. My fox was more of a lover than a fighter and without a single alpha characteristic.

Which made my and his determination to protect this alpha completely out of character. I hadn’t had a lot of relationships, and none serious, and my fox had been very disinterested in any of them. But since I opened my door to see those green eyes and the billboard image of his other assets popped into my mind, my animal had been aware, alert, and full of advice.

Unfortunately, the alpha was not interested in us beyond the contract we had between us. And that was fair enough. He did not need harassment from the artist hiring him. That happened all too often, or so I’d heard from the models I worked with in the past.

My fox had never even noticed any of them, and they’d all been hot. Of course, beyond enjoying their aesthetic beauty and the fact that I was privileged to paint their likenesses, I had no interest in them physically either.

I baked again, last night. Scones, this time, drizzled with a maple glaze. He claimed he never ate carbs, but he enjoyed the muffins so much, I couldn’t resist.

The knock came at five to seven, a little early, and I let West in and into the kitchen for breakfast again.

“I shouldn’t do this,” he protested. “If I eat, I’ll have a pooch.”

“And if you don’t eat, you won’t have the stamina to pose all day.” I already had an egg casserole in the oven and set it on a trivet next to the scones. “Don’t worry about your belly, paint is way more forgiving than the camera, at least in my experience.”

He protested again but managed to do justice to the food and finish two cups of coffee and a glass of orange juice before pushing back from the table and patting his tummy. “I hope you’re right about the paint because otherwise, you’re going to have to title the work Pregnant Alpha in the Nude .”

I laughed, but the idea of one of us being pregnant took root. I’d long ago thought I’d be single forever and therefore never have a child of my own, but I could easily imagine carrying this alpha’s babe. Something I needed to push right out of my mind and get down to business. “All right. Let’s work.”

I’d decided not to use the living room, wanting to get right to the poses I was interested in. I had moved an old chaise that used to be in my dad’s bedroom from the attic and set it in the middle of the dining room.

“Now, I know I said paint was more forgiving and so is charcoal, but I am going to start with some photographs. They help me to work when you’re on a break or not here. Are you all right with that?”

“Of course. You know I’m used to that anyway.”

“Sure.” I got the camera ready. “I could probably just use my phone, since the cameras are so great, but I’ve had this one for a long time.”

“Does it use film?” He tilted his head, trying to get a look.

“No.” I chuckled. “I’m not sure where I’d even get film developed. Or how long it would take. They haven’t had those one-hour places I remember hearing about in a long, long time. If you’d go ahead and get undressed, we can begin.”

He began to take off his clothes, but he looked a little unsteady, shaking? “West, is something wrong? You were an underwear model…did you not want to do this?”

“I do want to do this, but that time in my life was traumatic, for many reasons, and I never planned to do it again.”

“Then you don’t have to.”

“You paid me, and—”

I strode right up and looked him in the eye. “Forget the money. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to do. Model fully dressed or not at all, okay? It’s only money and not worth your being shot right back into a time when you did not feel good about yourself.”

And then something changed. His eyes softened and a soft smile lifted the corners of his lips. “I want to do this. Not because you paid me, although fair is fair and I’d have to pay you back if I didn’t, but because you are making it my choice. Now, where should I be?”

Once he was naked and lounging on the chaise, I asked him about the bear being in the picture, and he blinked. “You haven’t seen my bear.”

“No, but I can sense him there, almost see him. Would you ask him if he would mind?”

“He really likes you. It won’t be a problem.” He laughed.

“Will you ask him anyway? Just so he knows I’m respectful of him?”

“Now he likes you even more. It’s a big yes.”

My only problem now would be controlling my reaction to him. He was not my first nude, but he was the first one who made it hard to concentrate.