Crash Point-epub (9 page)

Chloe took a deep breath and counted to ten before speaking. “You aren’t cooking. You’re posing for a calendar. The idea of this shot isn’t to show you working, but to capture you in your workplace. You’re the one who chose to take the picture in the kitchen. Trust me. This pose is the best. Now hold still.”

She plastered a fake smile on her face and decided if the asshole wanted to continue to bitch, he’d have to do so while she snapped away. She started clicking despite Javier’s refusal to pose properly. If the bastard thought he was going to blow this shoot and drag her back here again for another attempt, he was sorely mistaken. She’d give money out of her own pocket to send in another photographer. She knew a couple of large, no-nonsense male colleagues who would be only too happy to do her a favor.

Chloe pretended Javier was doing a great job, even though she could see from his tight expression he was trying to come up with a way to stall. “Those are great. Now, what if you pick up one of the kitchen utensils? Grab that silver bowl. Maybe you’d feel better using props.”

Javier hesitated, but Chloe kept snapping. Maybe the gods would take mercy on her and one of the shots would actually look good.

“Perhaps you could show me what you mean.”

It was a deliberate attempt to draw her closer. Chloe wasn’t biting. “You’re the cooking expert. I’m just the photographer. I’m going to switch lenses. Just find a way that feels comfortable and natural.” Chloe bent to grab the lens, intent on making the change as quickly as possible.

When she looked at him once more, Javier was grinning, his pose perfect. Hallelujah. The guy must have caught her hint. She focused and started to snap.

She’d only taken a few pictures when Javier turned around, pretending to reach for a pan hanging from a rack behind him. Chloe took two more pictures before her finger caught up with her brain.

“Where the hell are your boxers?”

Javier glanced over his shoulder, his slimy smile wide. “You said comfortable and natural.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Chloe’s head was beginning to pound, her patience officially gone.

“It would be easier if you came over here and posed me the way you wanted.”

Chloe opened her mouth to inform the idiot the only way this would be easier was if he had a fucking brain, but at that moment, she was saved.

“Hey, Chloe. Whoa,” Blake said, stopping mid-step. “Thought this calendar was PG.”

Elise hovered just behind Blake. She giggled when she caught sight of her boss’s bare ass.

“This is a closed photo shoot,” Javier said furiously as he turned back around, the apron mercifully covering something Chloe
really
didn’t want to see.

“I’m going to go adjust the menu. There’s no way we’re going to get the tarts made today.” Before she left, Elise glanced at Blake, then gave Chloe an impressed look that said she approved of the cavalry.

Blake walked over to Chloe and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to stick around. I’m Chloe’s assistant.”

Javier’s face went red with frustration and fury. “I’m not comfortable working with another man in the room.”

“I can see why,” Blake murmured.

Chloe wavered between laughing hysterically and crying her eyes out. She’d been running a hundred miles an hour since recovering from the flu. Now she was starting to think a relapse of the illness would be a welcome respite.

“Have your assistant wait outside.” Javier drew out the word
assistant
to prove he wasn’t buying Blake’s lie.

Blake tucked a stray hair behind her ear before cupping her cheeks in his hands. The action was one of pure possessiveness. He didn’t speak as he studied her face. She wasn’t sure what he saw there. Probably because there were too many things to see. Chloe was tired, frustrated and, if she was being completely honest, somewhat amused by Javier’s ridiculous antics now that Blake was here and she felt safe.

Mercifully, Blake didn’t pick a fight with Javier. Instead, he made it clear that Chloe was spoken for.

Even though technically, she wasn’t. 

“Take your pictures, Chloe. I’ll be right outside. How much longer do you need?”

Chloe glanced at Javier and saw the man’s narrowed eyes. The chef didn’t like discovering she wasn’t available.

Even though technically, she was.

“Five minutes.” It would be a miracle if she got a useable shot in that amount of time, but she didn’t trust herself alone with the asshat chef for one second longer than that.

“There’s no way we can finish in five—”

Blake cut off Javier’s complaint. “I’ll be back here in five minutes to help you pack up your stuff.”

“But—” Javier blustered.

Blake tugged his phone out of his back pocket. “I’ll make a few calls while I wait.”

“Thanks, Blake.”

Blake walked out of the kitchen, but from the clomping of his boots, she could tell he hadn’t taken two steps into the other room before he stopped.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Javier asked. “I thought you said you weren’t seeing anyone.”

Foolishly, she had made that comment at their first meeting. She could only assume that was what had triggered open season on Chloe for the guy.

She glanced over her shoulder, certain Blake had remained within listening distance. She’d love to lie and say he was her boyfriend, simply to get the octopus off her back. But, knowing Blake, he’d find some way to make her repay him for that deceit. Probably with sex.

And with that thought, her libido reared its ugly head, assuring her it was a price it was more than willing to pay. It figured the one man who turned her into a raving sex maniac was also the one who’d broken her heart…and her trust.

Chloe simply nodded in response to Javier’s question. Maybe that would cool his engines and Blake would be none-the-wiser about her pretending he was her boyfriend.

“Yes what? Yes, you’re seeing him or yes, you aren’t seeing anyone?”

“Javier, I don’t see why my personal life has any bearing on this photo shoot. I’m here to take your picture for this calendar and that’s it. Now, if you would just put your boxers back on and pick up that whisk, I could—”

Javier was across the room in three long strides. He grasped her shoulders tightly, tugging her against his chest. When he spoke, his voice was quiet enough that Chloe knew he understood how close Blake was as well. “You must know how much I want you, Chloe.”

“Let go of me, Javier. I’m really
, really
not interested.”

The chef paused and Chloe got the sense he was confused.

“Hasn’t anyone ever said no to you before?” she asked.

He chuckled, the sound husky and deep. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not.”

His answer—so completely cocky—made her laugh. Javier released her, joining in her mirth.

She placed her hands in her front pockets. “Wow. You really are something.”

“And yet, you’re not interested?”

She shook her head. “Sorry.”

“Not nearly as much as I am. Your boyfriend is a very lucky man.”

For the first time, Chloe could see why other women would be attracted to the chef. After all, he was rich and famous, and attractive in a tall, boyishly handsome way. He rubbed elbows with Hollywood elite as well as international royalty. And he could cook.

However, none of that was even remotely appealing to her. Her ideal man had dark hair and crystal-blue eyes with a muscular body that wouldn’t stop. He had a charming smile, wicked wit and a tattoo on his upper left arm.

She made herself stop listing attributes. She was describing Blake. Dammit.

“Our time appears to be running out. Shall we try to get in a good shot before your
assistant
returns?”

Chloe nodded, relieved when Javier tugged his boxers on—though he kept his back turned toward her—making a show of it. Then he turned on the charm for the camera, posing as if he’d walked straight off the pages of
GQ
. Of all her models thus far, Javier was the most natural, knowing how to highlight his gorgeous features to perfection.

Chloe had only snapped about two dozen shots when Blake returned, but she wasn’t worried. She could probably fill the entire calendar with just the last few pictures of Javier and the thing would sell.

Blake didn’t speak immediately. Chloe wondered if he could sense the tide had turned. She flipped through the images on her viewfinder and, satisfied with the results, she looked at Javier and smiled. “All set.”

Javier reached for his pants and shirt as Blake helped her pack up all of her equipment. Given the end result, she felt guilty for calling him. Though she suspected Javier wouldn’t have backed off if he hadn’t seen Blake in the flesh. And really, if the chef had touched her one more time, there was no force on earth that would have kept her from cold-cocking the guy. Then Blake would have been called in anyway…to arrest her for assault.

“Sorry for bothering you when you were on duty.”

Blake folded the legs on her tripod. “No problem. I actually wasn’t far from here, working on a case. I’d just finished interviewing a witness and was heading back to the precinct to type up the report. Your timing was perfect.”

Blake had told her a little bit about the details of his job. She wondered how he could stand to spend so much of his day dealing with anger and sadness and pain. He investigated cases involving domestic violence, child abuse and rape.

Javier walked over to say goodbye when they finished packing up. He gave Chloe two platonic kisses on the cheek, then—to her dismay—told Blake he was a very lucky man. Blake didn’t bother to correct him. Instead, he gave her a wink that told her she was in his debt.

That didn’t bug her as much as she might have expected.

Chloe retrieved her cell phone from Elise, thanked her for her help and she and Blake stepped out into the bright sunshine together.

“What’s next on your list for today?” Blake asked as he placed her bags in the trunk of her car.

“I’m taking pictures of Caliph. At the tattoo parlor.”

Blake chuckled. “Sounds like your mom wore him down.”

“I think it was actually a tag-team effort. Jennifer was fairly convincing too.”

“Guess I don’t have to worry about your safety with your brother around. That’s a shame. I was enjoying being your bodyguard.”

“I shouldn’t have called you, but I was dangerously close to pulverizing that guy, which would have pissed my mother off. I thought maybe if you showed up and I pretended that you were…” She wasn’t sure why it was hard for her to say “boyfriend” to him, but for some reason, it felt wrong.

“Your boyfriend,” he finished for her.

She nodded. “I thought that would make him back off and it worked. So I owe you one.”

Blake reached for her. Chloe didn’t bother stepping away. Not when she wanted him to hold her. She was beginning to crave his kisses more than chocolate and that was saying something. “I think I like having you in my debt.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I wouldn’t call this a debt. Just one friend owing another a favor. A very small favor.”

Blake placed his lips against her cheek, the touch more caress than kiss. His breath was warm against her skin, sexy and sweet, all at the same time. “When can I collect my favor?”

Her eyes had drifted closed, but now she opened them, her gaze taking in the busy street behind them.

What was she doing? Blake Mills had stolen from her family, broken her heart, left without a trace for years and now she was letting him walk right back into her life without so much as a hi or bye. She was letting her body make the decisions—choosing sex over common sense.

She took a step away. Blake looked as if he’d try to pull her back, so she added another step, more distance. “I can’t do this again.”

“Do what?”

She pointed to herself, then him. “This. Us. I’ve been down this road before and it didn’t end well.”

“I’m not the same man I was when I was nineteen years old, Chloe.”

“Why did you leave?” The words fell out unbidden, unwanted. Chloe hadn’t meant to ask because she didn’t want to know. In her mind, there was no reason good enough for him to do what he’d done. None.

Blake ran a hand through his dark hair. In the sunlight, it was so black it shimmered like water. It betrayed the Italian heritage on his mother’s side, which was actually the only thing Chloe knew about Blake’s mother apart from the fact she hadn’t been around when he grew up.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask me that.”

“Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

Blake frowned. “Of course it does.” Before he could say anything more, Blake’s cell phone beeped. He read the screen and sighed. “I have to go. Domestic dispute. The neighbor just called it in.”

She nodded. “Okay. I’m late for my shoot with Caliph anyway.”

“I want to talk about this, Chloe.”

She walked toward the driver’s side door and opened it. “I meant what I said. You and I are ancient history, Blake. I think it would be best if we just left all of this in the past and got back to life as normal.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

She gave him a sad smile. “I wasn’t asking.”

Blake’s eyes darkened with a determination that told her she wouldn’t win this fight. “I’ll be at Mama Lewis’s house on Sunday for dinner.”

Fuck. The photo shoot. “I have a friend who is a photographer. She’s really—”

“No. You’re taking the pictures.”

“Blake. Please. Why can’t you just let this go?”

He walked toward her, cornering her. “I made a mistake, Chloe. Shit, I’ve fucked up a million times. But if I let you walk away right now, without explaining, without fighting for you, it’ll be the biggest mistake of my life.”

He took advantage of the fact her mouth had fallen open. Blake’s lips landed on hers, kissing her roughly, telling her in no uncertain terms that
this
was nowhere near over.

Blake loaded Chloe’s equipment into the motorcycle bag he’d borrowed from a friend as she watched, quiet and tense. She’d been the same way all through her family’s Sunday dinner. Her mother had even remarked on her silence, but Chloe simply dismissed it, saying she hadn’t slept well the night before.