Behind His Lens(92)

“Can I help you, Ms. Whitlock?” he asks with a dubious smirk.

“Oh, I’m merely observing,” I offer innocently. With a knowing smile, I turn back to the street, exuding confidence and ease. I wish we could sneak away somewhere before breakfast. Normally Jude wakes me up early enough so that we can make love before starting the day, but we both overslept, leaving me desirous and greedy.

He narrows one of his eyes skeptically, “Mhm, yeah. Your eyes say differently.”

My hip bumps into him teasingly, “Enlighten me.”

He rubs his chiseled jaw. “They have a little heat behind them, like you want to cut this breakfast short.”

I toss my head back and laugh because he’s absolutely right. “You’re lucky I let you leave the apartment at all.”


“Mrs. Jenkins thinks I’m your sex slave,” he teases with a wicked grin.

“What?! Yeah, right. She’s half in love with you herself,” I point out with raised brows.

He shrugs nonchalantly, “She didn’t like me at first.”

“I know. You brought me home drunk,” I joke.

“That’s not the way I remember it… but sure thing, Angel.” He tugs me into his side, wrapping his arm around my waist.

I’d stay in this little cocoon all day if I could. “She’s been hounding me about being home more,” I admit as I recall our conversation from earlier this week. Most nights Jude and I stay together, but since his apartment has a king size bed, we usually end up staying there.

I feel his head nod above me. “Should I invite her to my apartment with us?”

I laugh, “She’d probably enjoy it.”

“We’d get some of her awesome coffee cake,” he points out, as if actually contemplating the silly idea.

“Sounds like a win-win.”

Suddenly, his body stops propelling us forward and he tugs me back beneath the awning of a nearby shop.

“What is it?” I ask. The shop hasn’t opened yet and the linked security bars clink together behind us as I stare up toward him. His expression is completely indiscernible, but I quell the nerves beginning to spread through me.

He tugs a hand through his unruly hair and I fight the urge to twirl my finger through the strands in his wake. “Charley, before we get there I need to talk to you about something.”

“Wow. That sounds ominous,” I quip, trying to lighten the mood, but my eyebrows still bunch together in concern. “What’s up?”

He takes a deep breath and wraps his arms around my waist so that our lower bodies are connected. His hand starts rubbing small circles on my back as he speaks, “You know how the magazine called me last month to offer me a freelance position?”

“Yes…” I answer hesitantly, no longer able to push the uneasiness aside. He’s leaving. When they called I knew he would have to leave, but I didn’t think it would be so soon.

He squeezes me closer, his charming gaze never faltering. “They talked to me about another opportunity, and I want to get your opinion about it.”

“You can’t leave,” I stutter, already preparing for the worst case scenario. Way to play it cool, Charley.

“Charley, pause.” His leans down to kiss me softly, but he pulls away before I can fully lose myself in the taste of him. “You haven’t even heard everything yet.”

I take a deep breath. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“They want me to do a three month assignment overseas. I’ll be traveling through various countries, but I said I would only go if I could bring along an assistant of sorts.”

My eyes go wide. Please bring me. Please say you want me to come. “What? Who are you taking with you?”

He glances down from my eyes toward my lips, and then a cheeky grin breaks across his face. “I’m only going if you come with me. It’s non-negotiable.”

“But I…” I begin to protest, for no other reason than it seems too good to be true.

“…Am painting,” he finishes. “You have enough saved from your photo shoots and you told me you wanted to take the next year off. What if you traveled with me? You could paint along the way. We could ship your canvases home as we go.”

I absorb his words. It’s too good to true. How is this my life?

He bends down, kissing the skin beneath my ear and making me break out in a bloom of goose bumps. “All I know is that I’m not going without you.”