Up in Flames

by Kira Sinclair

  She was an idiot.

  She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about how sweet he’d been last night. Not that it really surprised her. He was always the kind of guy who took care of people. His need to protect and provide was an integral part of who he was.

  She didn’t have time for this. Or for morning sickness. It was a summer Saturday in Sweetheart and she had the Wilson-Billings wedding today. She and Misty Wilson had spent hours discussing what she wanted for her photographs. The bridal session had been beautiful and Misty had been amazing to work with. Not all brides were, so Lola appreciated when an easygoing one dropped into her lap.

  The few times she’d met with the couple, it had been clear Misty and Sam were deeply in love, which just made her job so much easier and more enjoyable. She’d seen plenty of weddings over the years that she’d known would lead to marriages doomed to failure. Pictures never lied, and she’d often caught unguarded moments that told the true story, not necessarily the one people wanted to believe. Those moments made her job difficult.

  But today, she was excited. There was just something about capturing the happiness of a new couple that always caused her own heart to flutter. She’d been looking forward to this job for weeks.

  Lola dressed carefully, as she always did for weddings. Appropriate for the occasion, but not flashy enough to draw attention. It was a fine line, especially considering the equipment she’d be using stuck out enough. Misty wanted a candid feel to her photographs, capturing the real moments instead of the standard staged ones. This was Lola’s specialty.

  Strolling into the studio early, she checked her equipment, something she normally would have done the day before a big booking like this. Colt had done as much as he could, gathering the things she’d need. But it was her responsibility to make sure the equipment worked and she had everything once she left the studio.

  She was in the middle of doing just that when the bell over the front door tinkled out a greeting. Damn, she’d forgotten to lock it behind her.

  Already forming an apology, Lola rushed to the front. She’d ask whoever had come in to call Colt on Monday to schedule an appointment. But the words froze on her lips when she breezed into the room to find Erik standing in the middle of her studio.

  Her first thought was that the man was big, making the shabby-chic decor she’d so carefully assembled appear dainty and breakable simply by his presence. He was handsome, as always, and the impact of him stole her breath.

  But what startled her more was the way he was dressed. As long as she’d known him, Erik had been a jeans and T-shirt kinda guy. When he was working, he wore his uniform and looked damn good in it. But she could probably count on one hand the number of times she’d seen him in a suit.

  That was what he was wearing. Charcoal gray with a faint pinstripe, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants. A crisp white shirt and a pewter tie that almost exactly matched his eyes. The material clung to his broad shoulders and tight thighs, somehow accentuating his strong body even while covering it up. It wasn’t fair.

  “What are you doing?” Lola blurted out.

  “Colt mentioned this job was going to be a long one. I thought I’d come help.”

  “Dressed like that?”

  Unease flashed through Erik’s eyes as he glanced down the length of his own body. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? Colt said you always dress to blend in with the guests at the wedding. You can’t stand there and tell me this is inappropriate for a wedding.”

  No, no it wasn’t. It was perfect. He was perfect. “I try not to stand out. Take focus away from the bride and groom.”

  He shrugged. “Okay.”

  “Erik, every woman in the damn place is going to be staring at you. You know you’re gorgeous and now you’re walking, talking suit porn.”

  A strangled sound, a cross between a laugh and a wheeze, gurgled through his throat. “Excuse me?”

  “Suit porn. Guys might like to look at half-naked women, but women like to look at well-dressed men. Trust me.” Lola couldn’t stop her gaze from slipping slowly down Erik’s body and back up again. She was only human. “Right now, you’re suit porn in the flesh.”

  Erik shifted on his feet. Wait. “Are you blushing?” she asked. That wasn’t possible. She couldn’t remember anything ever embarrassing Erik to the point of blushing.

  “No. Maybe.” His gaze narrowed. “Is that why you like going to these things so much? You get to stare at guys in suits?”

  “No. I go to these things because it’s my job and I love what I do. There’s nothing quite as uplifting and hopeful as a couple who glow with the reality of love. Makes me believe the fairy tales really can come true.”

  Even though theirs had fallen apart.

  She didn’t say the words, but they still somehow managed to echo through the room around them. Erik took a step toward her. Lola stepped backward.

  Nope, she wasn’t going there. Not today. Not while she was already on edge and vulnerable from last night, the scent of him still somehow managing to fill her lungs even though he was halfway across the room.

  Holding up her hands, Lola said, “I appreciate the offer of help, but I’m fine. Go home.”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  Erik’s mouth thinned and he deliberately ignored her upheld hands, closing the gap between them even though it was obvious she didn’t want him to. Part of her expected him to grasp her by the arms, haul her in close and kiss the hell of out her.

  Probably because that was what her traitorous body wanted.

  Instead, he brushed past her—lighting her up when his arm grazed her shoulder—and continued down the hall to the pile of equipment she’d been gathering.

  She followed him because...what else was she supposed to do?

  “This stuff ready to go?”

  “Yes, but—”

  She felt a mixture of horror and happiness when he reached down and started looping straps over his shoulders and tucking tripods under his arms.

  “I assume we’re taking your car?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Loaded down like a pack mule, completely uncaring that he was putting wrinkles in that perfect suit, Erik turned to her. “Okay, but I’m driving. You can waste energy arguing with me about it or you can hand over the keys and rest on the drive. But fair warning, if you dig in on this one, I’m going to dig in later, because I have no doubt there’s going to come a time when you need a little break and refuse to take it. I’m here to make you. Your choice.”

  Lola stared at him, a little dumbfounded, slightly annoyed and a lot turned on. What was wrong with her?

  Her confusion was all his fault. He was being sweet and infuriatingly demanding all at the same time. She realized he was trying to take care of her, which was nice even if she didn’t actually need him to do it.

  And it was infuriating because there was a time in her life when she’d wanted that from him. But she was older and stronger now. Independent and capable. And she didn’t want to let herself depend on him for anything only to have the rug pulled out from under her when she least expected it. Again.

  He was right. She could put her foot down and refuse to let him come with her. She’d handled plenty of weddings by herself. But she couldn’t deny that it would be nice to have help today. Especially as she stared at him weighted down with all her equipment. She would have had to make multiple trips to carry it all.

  “You already know where I’m going, don’t you? Colt told you about my job today.”

  Lola’s heart stuttered as a blazing smile stretched across his lips and dawned, bright and beautiful, in his deep gray eyes.

  “Maybe.” The single word left her wiggle room, but the glee in his gaze told her the real answer was yes. Damn her brother.

  “I’m se
riously going to hurt him.”

  “Yeah, right. We both know you’ll bluster at him and do nothing.”

  With a sigh, Lola shook her head. “Whatever. But this is my job, Erik. I don’t need you mucking around in it. When I say something, I need you to listen to me and do what I ask.”

  “Done.” The fact that the word rushed past his lips did not give her confidence. Oh, she thought he really meant it, but at some point today they were going to clash.

  And if she wasn’t careful, that charged encounter would probably end with her back against a wall and his hard mouth claiming hers. Because that was how they’d always solved their arguments in the past. And old habits apparently died seriously hard.

  * * *

  ERIK HUNG IN the background, watching Lola work her magic. He’d hovered close, trying to anticipate what she might need so that he could provide it before she asked. Which was damn difficult considering he really didn’t know what he was doing.

  But it wasn’t like this was the first time he’d watched Lola take photographs. Growing up, he could hardly remember a time when she didn’t have a camera in her hand. First the old film one, then his. And each time she reached for the one he’d given her, he’d gotten a thrill of possessive pride.

  Her obsession and talent had always intrigued him. He didn’t have an artistic bone in his body. Physical labor, working with his hands, taking risks and powering through difficult situations with a body he’d fine-tuned to be strong, that he understood. He recognized beauty when he saw it, had witnessed it time and again in Lola’s work. But while she had a talent for recognizing potential and capturing the perfect moment, he couldn’t see it until her photographs framed it out for him. Her perception was both amazing and a little unsettling.

  Lola easily rode herd over the chaotic wedding party, all without making it appear as though she was actually controlling anything. She confidently directed people here and there, from ninety-two-year-old grandma Wilson all the way down to an adorable toddler who had a death grip on a basket of rose petals and a wild-eyed expression that suggested she was going to lose it at any moment.

  He’d never seen her shoot a wedding so had no idea her job was more cunning mastermind than artist sometimes. She interacted, soothed, bolstered confidence to get a smile. Somehow she managed to pull the best out of everyone.

  Including him. She’d always seen the potential in him, which had been daunting and put more pressure on him to live up to her expectations than he’d realized...until he’d screwed up so badly.

  What bothered him now was that Lola had been on her feet for almost six hours with pretty much no break. The minute they’d gotten there she’d jumped into action, bouncing between the room where the bride and her party were getting ready and the room where the groom and his men were preparing.

  She captured breathtaking shots of the empty sanctuary decorated with fragrant flowers and stripes of late afternoon sunlight, showing him a few of the preliminary pictures. Somehow she managed to place herself at the perfect unobtrusive location to get candid shots through the ceremony. And now, at the reception, everyone else was enjoying the party. Lola was working.

  At the moment she was crouched down getting a shot between the flower girl—who’d finally relinquished her basket—and Misty Wilson’s nephew. The little girl had thrown her arms around the boy and was forcing him to dance with her like the adults. It was clear from the expression on the boy’s face that he wanted nothing to do with the girl or the dancing.

  Darkness had fallen outside, and through the wall of windows at the far end of the room, he could just make out a balcony with candlelit tables underneath the stars. Several people were enjoying the view over the expansive golf course at the Marin Country Club, but the balcony was quieter and less crowded than the ballroom.

  Exactly what he needed.

  Because wisdom had come with age, Erik formulated a plan to get Lola to take the break he knew she needed but was unlikely to allow. In his younger years he probably would have simply marched her across the room to an empty table. His lips twitched at the thought. She’d have given him shit the whole way, but she would have gone because he would have been whispering naughty things into her ear until she forgot what she was upset about. Then she’d melt against him in that way that drove him mad and made his chest swell.

  He was no longer certain Lola would follow him anywhere. So it was a good thing he’d gotten smarter.

  Trailing a line of people through the buffet, Erik loaded down a plate with food and grabbed two forks. He crossed to the balcony—the night air was warm, heavy with the scent of flowers from the garden below. A breeze had kicked up, making the summer evening perfect for being outside. He picked a table in a secluded corner. Darkness, shadows and a low brick wall would shield them from everyone else. He plopped the plate onto the table.

  He went back in and found her taking photographs of the new bride as she bent down to wrap her arms around her great-grandmother. Erik drifted close to Lola, waiting. After several minutes, she grumbled, “Stop hovering.”

  “I’m not hovering.”

  “You are. I can feel you back there, hovering. I’ll take a break in a bit.”

  Yeah, right. They both knew that was a lie.

  Slipping up behind her, Erik wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed his mouth to her ear. The spicy citrus scent of her swirled around him, making him light-headed as every blood cell in his body immediately rushed below his belt. It was hard to think with his lips pressed to her skin and her body snuggled against his. Nope, not the time or the place.

  “You remember what I said earlier? I’m changing the deal. You may have let me drive, but after hours on your feet you need a break.”

  She started to open her mouth to protest, but Erik didn’t let her get the words out.

  “Now or I’ll take all your equipment to the car. Your choice.”

  Lola’s head whipped around. Her body stiffened as she glared at him. “You’re being an asshole.”

  “Maybe, but that’s what you need. You haven’t stopped moving for the last six hours, Lola. You need to eat something before you collapse. If you won’t take care of yourself, then I’m here to do the job for you.”

  Her glare intensified, but that didn’t sway him.

  “I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time, Erik McKnight. I don’t need you.”

  Her words were like a punch in the gut. Because they were true. And that hurt like hell.

  Erik shook it off, focusing on her. “Be smart. I’ve got a plate for you. Just sit down for a few and refuel. Then you can go back to doing what you love.”

  She hesitated before finally giving him a sharp nod. Running his hand down her arm, he tried to ignore the smoldering embers that crackled along his palm. He twined his fingers with hers and then led her through the maze of tables to where he’d left the food.

  Lola gently placed her camera on the table—within quick reach—before settling into the chair he pulled out for her. Erik sank down beside her and nudged the plate in her direction. The wind teased at the ends of her hair, stirring them in a way that reminded him just how soft it was. He longed to bury his fingers deep inside and hold her head still as he devoured her mouth.

  Shadows and flickering light from the candle between them played across her golden skin. She was gorgeous, always, but even more so right then. His fingers itched to reach out and trail over her cheek and jaw, tip up her chin so he could lean in and taste her lips.

  Oblivious to his train of thought, Lola picked up the fork, letting it drift over the pile of options for several seconds before diving in for a bite of thinly sliced roast beef. Glancing up, she asked, “You’re not eating?”

  Picking up the second fork, Erik slowly stabbed a mushroom stuffed with cheese and herbs, popping it into his mouth. “Easier if
we just share. You probably won’t finish all of this anyway, but I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I grabbed a little of everything.”

  “So I see.” She slid the plate in his direction and chose a bite of au gratin potatoes for herself. Without saying anything, Lola used her fork to slide all of the mushrooms over to his side of the plate.

  Because she knew he loved them?

  There was a time when a moment like this with Lola would have been easy and comfortable. Not right now. The air crackled with energy. Erik could feel it, raising the hairs on the back of his neck and tightening every muscle in his body.

  Everyone else at the wedding had spent all day watching the bride and groom. He, on the other hand, had spent all day watching Lola, sending him into this hyperaware state that had been building inside him for hours.

  He was dangerously on edge, everything inside him throbbing with the need for more of her. He realized she wouldn’t welcome anything from him, but he couldn’t squash his body’s reaction.

  Which only got worse when Lola’s thigh brushed against his.

  He couldn’t be this close to her and not want to touch her. Some instinct was urging him on, beating out a tattoo in his brain that was getting harder and harder to ignore. It wasn’t helping that someone had placed little bells around the reception room, and every time someone rang one, the bride and groom had to kiss.

  That only made his mind return to the sinful taste of Lola’s mouth. Each soft tinkle was torture, ramping up the need inside him to a fever pitch.

  It all came to a head when Lola pushed away the half-finished plate. She stood, her chair scraping against the stone beneath their feet. The heel on her shoe caught in a crack and she stumbled. Her arms windmilled and her body swayed.

  Erik reached for her without thought, snagging her before she could lose her balance and go down. He pushed her deeper into the corner of the alcove, settling her back against the dark red brick of the building for support.