99 Percent Mine(50)

“I don’t think this classifies as a real body.” My voice sounds very faint. Tom smiles like he is utterly charmed. I know my face is blood red, because he’s biting his lip to stop laughing. “Hey, are you messing with me?”

“A little. I like it.” He hears another bleat outside.

Truly decides to betray me. “Darcy was the butt for a few of the collections last year when we couldn’t get models at a reasonable rate.”

Tom’s little Valeska ears prick up. “Darcy’s an underwear model?” He’s positively sparkling with humor and fun now. I’m flushing red, my heart erupting in my chest and sending liquid lava through my veins.

“I forbid you to look.”

“She’s got a great backside for underwear. You two could be the Underswears power couple, if you’d just put them on, Tom. What do you say? Steak dinner?”

“I never got a steak dinner,” I complain.

“Okay,” Tom says, laughing like he can’t believe himself. Then he adds his usual disclaimer. “But only if no one tells Jamie.”

He looks at his phone, then back at the house. “And it’s a really big steak. I’ve really got to go. Nice to see you, Truly. Please sign a form later so I feel better about you walking through a building site.” He looks at his new desk. In a chocolate-cake voice he says, “I can get that printer working.”

“No, it needs to be done now. Here.” Truly hands him a pair of underwear and he unfolds them. On the butt, it says, irrational asshole. He bursts out laughing.

“Well these are very appropriate.” He stares at her and realizes she’s serious. “I can’t do it now. That’s crazy.”

“It’s either you, or I go talent scouting,” Truly says, matter-of-factly. “That young guy up at the house would do it, I bet anything.” She knows she’s successfully pressed one of Tom’s buttons and suppresses a grin as he turns to me and scowls.

“It’s true, he would,” my mouth says, because oh Lord, I want to see some skin.

Truly steps out and holds the door handle. “I’ll stand out here and guard the door. Pull the drapes. This could take two minutes. Take your pants off, put these on, Darcy goes clicky-clicky, and we’re done.” To someone up at the house, Truly shouts, “He’ll be three minutes.”

The door slides shut.

“She makes it sound so easy.” His hand is on the button of his pants. “Why am I considering it?”

“Because Truly has some sort of weird force field around her. You can’t help but say yes. But if you do this, I will not let you treat me like shit afterward. You wanted to be distracted. You came in here. You’re one big boy, and I can’t keep you in here if you don’t want to be. Nod so I know you admit it.”

He nods. “If it isn’t me, it’s going to be someone else.”

“Let’s just get it over with. Pretend they’re your swim trunks.”

I tug the drapes shut and switch on the lights. I wheel over my stool. “You stand there.” I point at the white void. I change settings, then blow dust out of the lens. There’s a seemingly endless period of belt-jangling, stretching fabric, and movement behind me, and then Tom takes his position. I haven’t seen his legs since his days on the swim team. I missed them so bad.

The poor thing looks terrified. He’s gone from worksite boss to buff male model in the span of twenty seconds. He’s suffering from the whiplash. He’s not the only one. Those stretchy boxer-briefs look like they were made for him.

“Do you need a cigarette? Any final words? Seriously, you look like you’re about to be riddled with bullets.” Sometimes I love my smart mouth.

He looks so sweetly vulnerable, his T-shirt twisted low around his waist with his hands. He’s a good boy in a bad-boy body. It’s an underwear body.

Lord, it is too warm in this room.

Loretta was adamant he was a Viking in a past life—and she’s right. He’s just rowed across the Baltic Sea and now he’s standing here, chest rising and falling under my stare.

“Okay.” I try to not look at the skin and the legs and the hair. And is he kidding with that stomach? I see big slices every time he twists and readjusts his T-shirt. My mouth is so dry I’d drink from Patty’s bowl. I’ve shot models and I’ve never seen anything like this.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“You look fine,” I say in an encouraging soccer-mom voice. I tap the ground with my boot. I will spare him the shame of making him take off his T-shirt altogether. He needs some dignity. “Turn your back to me. Pull your top up high. Higher. Yep.”

I can’t say it. I will explode if I don’t say it. “You’ve got the best butt on the planet.” I put the camera on high speed and begin to paparazzi his ass.

“Is Tom there?” Colin’s voice is terrifyingly close. Jamie’s mole, for sure, and he’s about to bust us goofing off in the weirdest possible way. Tom and I freeze.

“He’s just having a … talk, with Darcy.”

“Tell him to come out front. They’re unloading the timber, but he hasn’t hired a forklift so we can’t move it.” Colin says that in a loud voice, so that Tom can hear.

“Shit,” Tom says. “One second. I will be one second. Hurry, Darcy.”