Do You Take This Man (41)

“That’s my signature color,” I protested.

“It’s a publicly available shade.”

I motioned to his sneakers tossed on the floor. “No one is even going to see your feet.”

“Who sees yours besides me?”

Laura and Mai exchanged a look.

“Don’t encourage him. He’s not cute.”

Laura waved her hand at me. Mai and her daughter had the same smile. “I think he’s kind of cute.”

“Thank you,” Lear said with an elaborate bow. “She’s so mean to me.”

“No, she likes you,” Mai said, fanning my big toe after the first coat of polish. “I can tell.”

Lear pointedly ignored me, joining in the conversation with Laura and Mai. “You think so? She’s kind of difficult to read.”

“RJ?” Mai waved him off and expertly moved the brush over my toenails, never a drop or line of polish touching my skin. “RJ is easy to read. She’s a softy on the inside.”

Lear leaned forward conspiratorially. “See, I think you’re right, but she doesn’t want anyone to know.”

“I am sitting right here,” I said, arms crossed. “Why are you butting in on my pedicure time?”

Lear grinned. “You invited me.”

“You invited yourself.”

Mai handed Laura the bottle, and she began painting Lear’s toes, which I begrudgingly had to admit were nice. After his cold shower was the first time I’d ever seen him barefoot, and though I wasn’t a foot person, it annoyed me that even his feet were handsome.

“Let this dry,” Mai instructed. “Don’t wiggle your toes while you flirt with this boy.”

“I am not flirting with him.”

“Lies, lies, lies,” she said with a laugh over her shoulder as she walked away.

Lear watched Laura, following her quick, precise movements before swinging his gaze to me. The smirk on full display. “She thinks you’re flirting with me.”

“She’s inhaled too many nail polish fumes,” I said, glancing at my overturned phone on my lap and suppressing a grin.

“She comes almost every other week. You should come with her again,” Laura said.

Traitor.

Lear dropped his smirk and just gave Laura a smile. “Her nails always look really nice, and this was very relaxing. Maybe I will.”

I risked a glance at him again, though he was looking at Laura working. He looked good in casual clothes.

His eyes were closed, head resting against the chair. “You’re staring at me.”

“I am not.”

Lear rolled his head to the side. “You can’t help yourself.”

“Believe me. I can.”

He laughed, his flat stomach moving with the force of it, and when he caught me looking, he met my eyes, his lips in a playful smirk.

Laura fanned his toes, shaking her head at us. “I never thought I’d see RJ here with a date.”

I rolled my eyes, inspecting my own toes. I didn’t hate the idea of doing this again with Lear as much as I thought I might.





Chapter 22


Lear





I STOOD MAKING small talk with a groom’s grandmother, scouting a space RJ and I could escape to later. My sunburn had faded, and she hadn’t been back to my place, but every time I fell into bed, I thought about her soft touches and how the mattress dipped slightly with her next to me.

“Excuse me,” I said to Nana Mary as I saw the photographer step in, glancing around. He was from out of town and I hadn’t worked with him before, but Penny said he was a big deal and could be a good contact. As I strolled toward the man, I made eye contact with RJ across the room. She looked like she’d come from court, wearing a gray suit, her hair pulled back. I loved getting her out of the suits that made her look so formidable. I got a peek into this soft corner of her life and it was a nice study in contrasts. Not that she wasn’t formidable naked.

RJ, of course, rolled her eyes at my grin.

“Hi. I’m Lear Campbell. Good to meet you.” I stretched out my hand to greet the photographer, who eyed the space skeptically.

“Garrett Parker,” he said, not returning the smile and squeezing my hand harder than necessary.

“We’ll get started soon,” I said, glancing at my watch. The bride was wiping at her eyes in the corner, so I knew we had a few minutes. “What do you—”

“I’m known for capturing unique angles, so I’ll be moving all around. Is there anything you need to adjust to accommodate that?”

The guy reminded me of people I worked with in LA who believed they were the most important person in the room. The skill of keeping my expression and tone neutral came in handy more than I would have expected. “No, but . . .” I glanced up, motioning for RJ to join us. “Let me introduce you to the officiant. We’ve not been in this space before, but she usually has a few notes for photographers.”

RJ strode toward us and I swallowed, wondering what was under that simple, professional suit.

“Notes?” Garrett Parker’s face twisted into a smirk. “I don’t really take notes.”

“Excellent, then you must be good at remembering,” RJ said as she reached us, adjusting her glasses on her face. “RJ Brooks,” she said, holding out her hand.