“You can’t say no. After what happened today, you owe me.”

  Glancing up, her hands are on her hips, and a naughty light is in her eyes. It’s a big switch from the way she came here, furious and on the brink of tears. She’s back to that feisty confidence I can’t resist.

  I rub my palm over the need twisting in my stomach. I’m ready to do anything she wants. I’m so fucking in over my head with her. I should tell her no, I don’t owe her anything.

  Of course, I don’t. “When do you want to do it?”

  “Tomorrow. Meet me at Carmen’s shop after five, and we can drive out to the shore.”

  “That’s pretty late.”

  “We’ll get there at the golden hour. Right after dawn and just before sunset the light is diffuse, softer. It makes the best pictures. Sound good?”

  It sounds dangerous, but I’m doing it. “Ruth’s Rarities, after five.”

  “See you there.”

  She heads out the door, and I walk over to watch her drive away. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but if Hutch doesn’t tell me to leave, I’ll be at her side or not far from it.

  9

  Hana

  “Once more, Pepper!” I yell before lying on my back on the pavement.

  Bracing my camera in both hands, I wait, listening for the noise of her skates to get closer. The moment her hand hits the edge of the pavement, I start shooting.

  Pepper flies up the side of what was formerly the public pool. It’s now a concrete valley, and her body makes an arc over my head. She does a cross between a handstand and a cartwheel before landing on her skates and flying down into the valley again.

  “That was it!” I yell, sitting up fast. Turning the camera over, I quickly scan through the digital images. “I love it!”

  The midday sun creates the perfect energy for this high-speed sport. Cassie and Ainsley, two of Pepper’s softball teammates, have joined us, and all three girls are dressed in jersey shirts, short shorts, and knee socks. Their skates are candy colors–pink, yellow, and baby blue, and I’m imagining this portion of the show. It’ll be a brilliant burst of high-energy color in the middle of my thoughtful black and whites.

  I experiment with slowing my shutter speed to create blur, and rolling onto my stomach again, I capture Tommy and his friend Dodge practicing their skateboard tricks.

  Tommy’s a cute thirteen-year-old with shaggy blond hair tied back in a ponytail. Dodge is a year older, and his light-blue hair sticks out around a black beanie. They do variations of the ollie, but Tommy can laser flip. Dodge can back tail, and I’m capturing all of it with the traffic a blur behind them.

  Ainsley leans down beside me. “Exciting.”

  Nodding, I’m satisfied with the energy, but I want to contrast it with graceful images. “Can you hold the back of the bench and do one of your ballet moves?”

  “Sure!” She gives me a big smile and she rolls over to the wrought-iron bench, leaning forward and lifting her leg in a gorgeous arabesque.

  “That’s perfect. Now you guys have some fun.”

  Cassie rolls over to her and they clasp hands, bobbing their knees and spinning in a tight circle faster and faster. Their long hair flies, and I’m snapping like crazy until they finally break apart, squealing and falling on the grass completely dizzy.

  “Cassie, kick up your feet!” She happily rolls onto her back to comply, propping her back with her hands and holding her skates high over her head. “Perfect–I think we’re done!”

  Sitting on the bench, reviewing all the shots, I’m so full of light, I could fly.

  Part of it is the fun of today, but a big part is the anticipation of seeing Scar in just a few short hours.

  Yesterday was so fucking dark. I was so hopeless and overwhelmed, I actually called Trip. I wanted to run away; I almost called my dealer in Hamiltown. Shaking my head, I growl softly at how weak I was.

  Blake would’ve been so disappointed. I would’ve been devastated.

  Scrubbing my fingers against my forehead, I remember my therapist’s words. I have to forgive my weakness. My sister is there for me, and the sharp squeals of laughter remind me I also have Pepper and Carmen. Those inner voices are liars. I’m not alone. I do have a place here, and I didn’t relapse.

  Even more, I found the strength inside me to confront the judgment. I texted my therapist to tell her what I’d done–instead of going back to my old ways, I trusted my strength.

  Going to Scar’s house changed everything. His arms gave me strength. Kissing him was so much better than any artificial high. Even if he did stop us, his shield lowered, and I saw inside his walls. He needs me as much as I need him.

  Convincing him to let me in will take a little more work, but I have a plan for that.

  “How’s the photo shoot going?” Carmen plops on the bench beside me, holding out a paper cone of fried okra. “Okra?”

  “Did you get this off the food truck?” I pop a piece in my mouth before pulling up the photos on my camera, tilting the viewfinder so she can see. “Pepper is really good at this skating thing. Look at her in this one.”

  I show her the one of Pep with one hand on the concrete and her feet overhead.

  “She looks like Tony Hawk!”

  I laugh, scrolling through the shots. “She’s definitely a superjock.”

  “You need to hang onto those for a future documentary. She’s like one of those Williams sisters or Christina Aguilera. You have the historical evidence right here.”

  Nodding, I pull my bag on my shoulder. “Hutch and Blake can sort out what to do with their rising star. I’ve got a gallery to fill. Mind if I hang out with you at the store for a little while? I told Scar I’d meet him there after work.”

  “He agreed?” Carmen squeals, clapping. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to get some lunch.” Waving to the kids, I stroll with her to the food truck where I order a large box of fried okra.

  Carmen’s mother Ruth owns Ruth’s Rarities. It’s a cute local gift shop filled with jewelry and crafts by local artists alongside quirky gift items and books. I pick up a sequined bag that reads, You were my cup of tea, but I drink champagne now.

  It’s always full of customers, and when we arrive, a group of older women are passing around a copy of the board book Penis Pokey and giggling. They end up buying oven mitts that read “Pizza’s here” and “Dropping a fresh recipe on your ass.”

  Chewing my lip, I watch the clock slowly counting down to five, and my heart beats faster the closer it gets. At five exactly, Carmen runs to the door and turns the lock, flipping the sign from Open to Closed.

  “Have to do it fast before another mob of customers shows up,” she laughs. “Sometimes I feel like I’ll be here all night.”

  “It’s a popular place.” I sneak over to the sunglasses area and check my hair, reapply my pink lip gloss, pinch my cheeks.

  I wore a thin, white tank top and cutoffs, and my hair is twisted up in a messy bun on my head with a few curls falling around my face. Silver hoops are in my ears, and I’m going for a minimalist look, not trying too hard–just enough.

  I’m excited and nervous, and my breath is all jumpy.

  Carmen is pricing a box of sterling silver jewelry, and I walk over to help her. “You were here when Scar arrived.”

  “Yep.” My friend leans in close, carefully writing the price on the tiny tags in ink.

  I can barely fasten the tiny, white price tags to the delicate chains with my wiggly fingers. “He’s been here seven years, and he never dated anyone?” She doesn’t answer, and I lean forward when I notice her lips twitch. “What are you not telling me?”

  “He never showed any real interest in anyone, but he went on a few dates.”

  My eyes widen, and I’m not sure I want to ask. “Anyone I know?”

  “I don’t think so?” Wrinkling her nose, she looks up at me. “Have you ever met my mom?”

  The chain I’m tagging slips from my fingers, and I blink fast. “He dated your mother?”

  She shrugs. “She said she couldn’t let all that sexy come to town and not go for it. Totally knocked me out of the running. Thanks, Ma. Not that he ever gave me a second look.”

  I force my brain to think. “She’s how much older than him?”

  “I guess about ten, fifteen years?”

  Carmen keeps talking, but I’m distracted and insanely curious. “Why doesn’t your mom ever come to the store? I can’t believe I’ve never met her.”

  “She spends all her time in Atlanta. She has a boyfriend there.” Carmen chuckles. “She keeps saying she’s giving the store to me, but I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  A knock on the glass makes my heart jump to my throat, and I look up to see Scar standing outside the door, blue eyes fixed on mine.

  It takes me a beat to remember to breathe. “Your mom was right.”

  “Forget about that.” Carmen follows me as I grab my bag and head to the door. “Nothing happened.”

  I’m glad to hear it, and I think maybe I’ve gained a little useful information. “Thanks, babe.” We air-kiss before I leave. “Wish me luck.”

  “I’m rooting for you.” She gives me a little shove out the door. “Bag him.”

  The door closes behind me and I hear the lock turn and the shade lower. I wonder if he heard that.

  Leaning against the glass, I exhale a soft laugh, looking up at him. “Hey.”

  He’s wearing the usual faded jeans with a heather-gray tee, and his hair is pulled back in a bun with a few pieces escaping on the breeze. His lip ring is gone, which is a little disappointing. I love his Viking look, towering over me with that intense gaze. I’m already planning out the shots I want of him in my head–the salty wind in his hair, him looking out to sea.

  “Ready?” He’s not smiling, and I know he doesn’t want to do this.

  I also know he kissed me yesterday. It tickles low in my stomach, and I wonder what he’d do if I grabbed him and planted a kiss on his full lips right now. I’d have to climb him first, which is not a problem, but we have to catch the light.

  “I packed a few tools in case we wanted to stage something.”

  “Here.” He takes the duffel from me, and I chew my lip as I watch his bicep flex while he puts it in the bed of his pickup.

  He holds my arm as I climb into the truck. It’s sleek, but practical with heavy tires and a step side. He doesn’t make eye contact when he climbs in, and I hope I can make him loosen up or at least be less annoyed to be one of my models.

  It’s a half-hour drive to the beach. His window is down, and the radio plays softly, some old Rolling Stones song.

  I finally break the mood. “Busy day?”

  His eyes cut to the side, and I give him a big smile. The muscle in his jaw moves, and I want to lean over the console and slide my finger over it. Then maybe bite it.

  “Not too bad.” Something’s on his mind, but Scar has never been much of a talker.

  “What are you guys working on–or can you tell me? Is it classified?”

  Another cut of those eyes, and my stomach squeezes when a smile ghosts across his lips. “Just dealing with some past business. It’s all good, though. Maybe.”

  Interesting, but I don’t have time to follow up. He turns the wheel, and we’re at our destination.

  Judging by the sun’s position, we have at least ninety minutes before it’s too dark, and I hop out as soon as we stop. Rising on my tiptoes, I dig in my bag for another lens, and my entire body lights up when I feel his warmth at my back.

  “Let me help.”

  “Thanks.” I exhale, stepping aside so he can grab my stuff. “I think we have enough time to scout out some good locations. I probably should’ve driven over here earlier, but I was working with Pepper and her friends at the skatepark.”

  He follows me down the long boardwalk, and I kick off my sandals at the end, plunging my toes in the sand. It’s kind of perfect. The sky is slightly overcast with the sun peeking out, and the wind alternates between calm and bursts.

  “Come with me.” Spinning around, I grab his large hand.

  His lips twitch, but he allows me to lead him out to the water, to an abandoned boat turned upside down and hidden in the brush.

  “I thought you said I wouldn’t know you were here.” He’s teasing, which is a very encouraging sign.

  “Sit.” I position him on the boat so he’s facing the water with one knee bent. “Look out at the ocean and think of something you really want to do.”

  Blue eyes hit mine, and my stomach flips. He looks at me like maybe I’m the thing he wants to do.

  “You just want me to sit here?”

  “Just for a minute. You have a very artistic look going on, and I want to capture it with the light soft.” Adjusting my lens, I look into the viewfinder. “I’ll take a bunch of shots then we can move on. Do whatever you’d normally do, sitting by the ocean.”

  He looks down at his hands, and I start clicking. With a deep exhale, he turns his attention to the waves. It’s not stormy, but a front is blowing onshore. The waves are growing higher, and his slim brow furrows as if he’s considering it.

  My finger presses the shutter button repeatedly, and I capture every flicker of expression. I can’t wait to get back to the darkroom. I can’t wait to be alone to play around with this face and those eyes.

  “Look at me.” My voice is quiet, and he cuts me a glance that stops my heart. Click. “Perfect.”

  I hope I got that, and if I did, everyone will want a print.

  “Let’s see about getting some action shots now.” I lower the camera and flip through the viewfinder. “Get ready. You’re probably going to be approached to model after the show.”

  “I’m no model. I’m only doing this for you.” Standing, he walks to a fallen tree, and I follow him, chewing my lip so I don’t smile too big at his confession. He’s doing this for me.

  Stopping at a large piece of driftwood, he digs in his pocket for a knife. I walk around, climbing on a fallen log to get me higher as he squats beside the stump and presses the blade against the trunk.

  “Can you make something with it? I’d love to see you work.”

  “It’s too spongy.” He rises to his full height. “If you want to see me work, I have a piece of black walnut at the house. Ruth ordered a few bowls for the store.”

  My chest tightens at the mention of Carmen’s mom. “Carmen said you dated her.”

  He scratches the side of his beard, glancing up at me. “We went for drinks a few times.”

  “She’s a lot older than you.” Holding the camera over my face, I study his expression in the viewfinder. Is he embarrassed? Guilty?

  “She doesn’t really act her age.”

  “It’s no different than you and me.” Click. His brow arches, and now he’s smiling. Click.

  “It’s a little different.”

  “Not really. I don’t exactly act my age. Or I passed my age a few years ago.”

  His hands are on his hips and the wind pushes his long hair back. My camera clicks several times as I capture his look of bemused annoyance.

  Lowering the camera, I scroll through the shots I’ve taken. “Want to see them?”

  He walks over to where I’m still standing on the log. It puts me closer to his height, and I tilt the camera so he can see the viewfinder.

  Handing him the device, I point to the black arrow. “Press this, and you can scroll through them all.”

  He studies the screen, and I study his gorgeous face, the neat beard on his square jaw. The lines of black ink rising from his collar and the fragile tops of burn scars not entirely hidden. I want to touch him. I want to kiss him again.

  Lifting his chin, he gives me another rare smile, and heat fills my stomach. “You’re really talented. You made me look…”

  He doesn’t finish, so I supply my own adjectives. “Handsome?” Leaning closer, I arch an eyebrow. “Sexy?”

  Wolf eyes flicker to mine, and butterflies explode in my chest. “I look whole.”

  His words resonate in me. A strong gust of wind blows my hair back, and we’re standing so close. I reach out to place my hand lightly on his cheek. It’s how he makes me feel, whole, restored, undamaged.

  It’s time to say what I want. “Are we friends?”

  “Yes.” He straightens.

  “You’re kind of like my bodyguard, but I don’t remember hiring you.”

  “Your uncle hired Hutch, which means he hired all of us.”

  Looking down, I slide my hand to his forearm. “But Hutch said he would never accept money for keeping us safe. Would you?”

  The muscle in his square jaw moves, and his lips tense. “I’m not interested in money.”

  “What are you interested in?”

  No hesitation. “Keeping you safe.”

  “Why?”

  I want him to say it’s because he cares about me, but he doesn’t. Not yet.

  So I continue. “Remember the last time we were in New York, and I slept by your side?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can we do that again?”

  His brow lowers, and I brace for him to say no.

  Seconds pass, and he doesn’t.

  He’s thinking about it, and I want to do one of Pepper’s skater jumps.

  Instead, I hold my voice steady. “I haven’t slept in so long, and I’m just so tired. I know if you were there, beside me, I could get one night’s sleep.” Blinking up at him, I smile. “Would you do that for me?”

  His full lips part, and I imagine what he’s thinking. Me in his bed all night is venturing into dangerous territory, a place he can’t control. I’m his weakness, and it’s intoxicating to think this amazing man might do anything for me.

  Lifting his chin, he looks out at the ocean, and I wonder if he’s thinking of something he really wants to do. I know I am.

  My hand is still on his arm, touching his skin, and it feels so good. I want him so much.

  “Please?” It’s a soft whisper, and when he turns to me again, I know I’ve won.

  With a heavy exhale, he nods.