stand with me.”
“Great. I need you both to stand—” her fingers closed around his forearm and she tugged him into the middle of the dirt strip that ran down the center of the field, “—here. Now if you can just turn around...”
Her hands were suddenly on his shoulder, her fingers pressing firmly into the bare skin at the tops of his arms. There was nothing gentle or tentative about the touch—it was all business—a photographer used to putting her hands on people to position them exactly where they were needed for the shot. Only it was making him think Swedish massage, hot oil, naked skin and her hands pummeling every part of him.
When she finally stepped back from him and he was left alone facing down the field with his back to her, he gave up a silent thank-you. At least the time it took her to take the photos would give him a few moments to get his body back under control and give his erection time to deflate.
He heard the sounds of the camera behind him and grabbed on to an innocuous topic to help the process along. “I’ve never understood why digital cameras make shutter sounds?”
“This one’s a top-end SLR and it’s got both an electronic and a mechanical shutter. It means a sharper picture. Even if it only had an electronic one, I’d have the shutter sound turned on for my clients because when they hear the click, they know I’ve taken the photo. Can you walk over to the sunflowers, please?”
He did and Mac followed him. Maggie-May bounced on her leash, yapping, as if saying to Mac, It’s so not fair you’re walking free. This time Erin wanted Luke to face the camera and he crossed his arms, feeling uncomfortable. “What do you want me to do?”
“Just stand.” She squatted down and angled her camera.
He found himself studying the way her hair fell from her part, which ran perfectly straight until the last quarter where it snaked crookedly. It was at odds with the neat bob that fell effortlessly in a shining waterfall of hair. He instantly remembered the silky feel of it against his chin when she’d fallen on top of him and the delectable scent of fresh fruit.
Don’t go there , buddy.
It was too late.
The memory made way for the one he’d tried to forget—the one where her body had wriggled against his, sending her heat scudding through him and making his blood pound hard and fast. Sweat broke out on his top lip as he tried to keep his blood supply north of his groin. Frantic for a distraction, he looked up at the sky and was instantly mocked. There wasn’t a cloud in sight to watch or wonder about.
One twelve is twelve , two twelves are twenty-four , three twelves —
“Actually, Luke, you’re taller than the groom. Can you bend your knees?”
He wanted out before she noticed he was hornier than a teenager watching porn. “I can hear the cows getting angsty.”
“Five more minutes. Please.”
She flashed him a quick “all business” appreciative smile, and despite the assault of color from her clothes, the slightly ditzy and chaos-causing woman he’d first met was nowhere to be seen. Neither was the overly polite or the pointedly snarky one. Instead he was faced with focused professionalism and gratitude.
Shit. It meant he really couldn’t walk away without looking like he was a grumpy and difficult farmer.
Why worry? Two nights ago you wanted her to think exactly that.
For some unfathomable reason it now bothered him and that ticked him off. He found himself missing the general animosity that usually swirled between them. That he understood and it had kept him from acting on the fact his body wanted her. With a sigh, he bent down. “I feel ridiculous.”
“You’re really helping. You probably could have been a model if you hadn’t gone into farming.”
He snorted. “Yeah, right.” He’d been raised on a farm and was a country boy through and through. He had no time for fripperies and false images. He fingered the soil as he often did, but the
“Great. I need you both to stand—” her fingers closed around his forearm and she tugged him into the middle of the dirt strip that ran down the center of the field, “—here. Now if you can just turn around...”
Her hands were suddenly on his shoulder, her fingers pressing firmly into the bare skin at the tops of his arms. There was nothing gentle or tentative about the touch—it was all business—a photographer used to putting her hands on people to position them exactly where they were needed for the shot. Only it was making him think Swedish massage, hot oil, naked skin and her hands pummeling every part of him.
When she finally stepped back from him and he was left alone facing down the field with his back to her, he gave up a silent thank-you. At least the time it took her to take the photos would give him a few moments to get his body back under control and give his erection time to deflate.
He heard the sounds of the camera behind him and grabbed on to an innocuous topic to help the process along. “I’ve never understood why digital cameras make shutter sounds?”
“This one’s a top-end SLR and it’s got both an electronic and a mechanical shutter. It means a sharper picture. Even if it only had an electronic one, I’d have the shutter sound turned on for my clients because when they hear the click, they know I’ve taken the photo. Can you walk over to the sunflowers, please?”
He did and Mac followed him. Maggie-May bounced on her leash, yapping, as if saying to Mac, It’s so not fair you’re walking free. This time Erin wanted Luke to face the camera and he crossed his arms, feeling uncomfortable. “What do you want me to do?”
“Just stand.” She squatted down and angled her camera.
He found himself studying the way her hair fell from her part, which ran perfectly straight until the last quarter where it snaked crookedly. It was at odds with the neat bob that fell effortlessly in a shining waterfall of hair. He instantly remembered the silky feel of it against his chin when she’d fallen on top of him and the delectable scent of fresh fruit.
Don’t go there , buddy.
It was too late.
The memory made way for the one he’d tried to forget—the one where her body had wriggled against his, sending her heat scudding through him and making his blood pound hard and fast. Sweat broke out on his top lip as he tried to keep his blood supply north of his groin. Frantic for a distraction, he looked up at the sky and was instantly mocked. There wasn’t a cloud in sight to watch or wonder about.
One twelve is twelve , two twelves are twenty-four , three twelves —
“Actually, Luke, you’re taller than the groom. Can you bend your knees?”
He wanted out before she noticed he was hornier than a teenager watching porn. “I can hear the cows getting angsty.”
“Five more minutes. Please.”
She flashed him a quick “all business” appreciative smile, and despite the assault of color from her clothes, the slightly ditzy and chaos-causing woman he’d first met was nowhere to be seen. Neither was the overly polite or the pointedly snarky one. Instead he was faced with focused professionalism and gratitude.
Shit. It meant he really couldn’t walk away without looking like he was a grumpy and difficult farmer.
Why worry? Two nights ago you wanted her to think exactly that.
For some unfathomable reason it now bothered him and that ticked him off. He found himself missing the general animosity that usually swirled between them. That he understood and it had kept him from acting on the fact his body wanted her. With a sigh, he bent down. “I feel ridiculous.”
“You’re really helping. You probably could have been a model if you hadn’t gone into farming.”
He snorted. “Yeah, right.” He’d been raised on a farm and was a country boy through and through. He had no time for fripperies and false images. He fingered the soil as he often did, but the
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