“You’re good at this.” The first girl focused on her silhouette against the backdrop of the student union. The lighting cast dark shadows across her cheeks, enhancing the fullness of her lips. She was a slightly large girl, and the shadows emphasized her beautiful face rather than focusing on her fullness. It was perfect.
“Thanks.” Caroline flipped a card over and scribbled down information on the back. “You can view the proofs at this website after ten p.m. tomorrow. I’ll need half the cost today, the rest once you choose which package you’d like to have. Also, check out some of the gift items on the website—your parents might like a frame or something.” Caroline’s first client left happy.
The second girl tried to pose at the onset. It was obvious she was nervous—and that her clothes weren’t designer, which was refreshing. She was honored the girl had chosen her—even more so after learning she was the last of five siblings and the only one to graduate. The picture would mean a lot to her parents, and Caroline had to do the job justice.
Caroline handed her a photo book under the guise of choosing a “look,” then, while the girl focused, she clicked away, snapping shot after shot. A cap and gown lay in the background waiting for her. The girl’s fantastic chestnut hair fell over one shoulder in a gentle blanket of brilliance. After the girl handed the photo book back and explained her preferences, Caroline suggested she walk for a few steps and shot several more frames. Perfect. They added the cap and gown for a few more before reviewing the images.
Another satisfied customer. Once the girl was gone, Caroline tucked the check into her pocket, praying it wouldn’t bounce. With most of the students she dealt with, there was a fifty-fifty chance their bank balance wouldn’t cover the work. Regardless, there was satisfaction in knowing she’d recorded their special life moments. She labeled the camera’s memory stick with the name, date, and file number, then loaded an empty memory stick for the next session. The fall wind caught her hair and tossed it into her eyes. She should have tied it back, but there hadn’t been time this morning.
“Well, well. If it isn’t polka dot panties,” a mocking voice called out from behind her.
She whirled around to face the source of the comment. Uh-oh. It was Roger’s frat brother, Nathan—the one dumped by the fancy bathing suit chick.
“Technically, it wasn’t panties but a bra. Hi. I’m Caroline.” She held out a hand but stepped back a half-step. The guy was in her face.
He snickered. “Details, details. Looked great to me.”
Her face flooded with heat. Why was she dying to wipe that smirk to China? Maybe it was the way he’d ran his eyes slowly up and down her body, stopping chest-high as if imaging the bra. She shuddered. “I’m working at the moment, so I can’t talk. Maybe you could come back later?”
His gaze floated over her shoulder and focused on something at her back. She forced herself not to look. He squinted. “You’re working here?”
“Yes, I’m a photographer. I’m waiting on my next client, a Mr., um ...” She glanced at her schedule.
“Nathan Chenton.”
She felt her eyes widen. “You?” Oh, shit.
He grabbed her forearm, rubbed a thumb along her skin, and winked. “That’s me.”
Vomit surged into her throat. He winked? Seriously? And what was with the thumb massage? So gross and stupid. “Okay, then. Hang on a second while I change my battery. This one’s almost dead.” Caroline pulled free, turned, and reached into her camera bag.
“I’d like to charge your batteries—just say when.”
Heat burned like lava in her cheeks. He did not just say that. She peered over her shoulder and saw that he had oddly crouched down. Was he seriously trying to look up her skirt? It was laughable—especially considering it wasn’t a skirt but a skort—but he was acting just so ... high school. She whirled around and dropped a hand on her hip. So that was how it would be, huh? Okay, no problem. She’d dealt with his type before. She could handle the likes of one smartass spoiled college guy with a giant ego.
“Just curious, um, Nathan, but I lost you after the party the other night. I was so wrapped up—and I mean wrapped tightly up—with Roger that I didn’t get a chance to seek you out and say how much I enjoyed the whole thing. What a great idea for a party.”
He blinked, clearly not sure if she was issuing a compliment or insult. Good, she had him confused. She lifted the camera and clicked. He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Hey, I wasn’t ready.”
She put on her sweetest smile. “That makes two of us then. You snuck up on me, and I snuck up on you. Imagine that. So ... about that battery charging thing.” She kept the camera plastered to her face and watched.
He dropped the swagger for a second and stared into the distance. Click. Click. Click. “Don’t I get a warning or something? Can’t I at least smile for you?”
She shrugged. “Why? A smile is so ... ” She bit her lip before the word phony slipped from her mouth. “Predictable.” She dropped the camera and tossed her hair from her eyes. The wind kindly whipped it back. “You know,” she said, “you could be one of those male models. Have you ever thought of doing that?”
Sure, it was about as full of shit as a cow pasture, but it worked. He dropped the swagger and gave her a normal smile, not one of his hey-come-bed-me faces. Click. Click.
But then his face went sober. With two steps her way, Nathan reached for the camera. “I don’t like the way this is going. Can we just talk for a few minutes? Put that down.”
Caroline jolted backward and tripped over her bag. She held her hands up to save the camera, but she fell flat on her ass. Ouch. That would leave a bruise. “Don’t touch my equipment please.”
He reached for her arm. “I wasn’t going to touch your ... equipment. Or anything else. I just wanted to talk. I thought maybe we could go get a drink or something.”
What? Wait a minute. Had he seriously thought she’d go out with him after taking the shots?
“Nathan, what the hell are you doing here?” Roger’s voice rang out in the distance.
Nathan dropped Caroline’s arm and lurched around. “Oh, hey man. I’m getting my senior pictures taken. She ... fell.”
Roger sidestepped around Nathan and reached out a hand. “You okay, gorgeous?” He waited with fingers extended as Caroline surveyed the situation. Part of her was worried that he had decided to check up on her at work. But she was amused that he’d interceded when Nathan knocked her over. Was he jealous?
She met his eyes, noting the way they darkened to deep ebony. Oh, my God, he is.
She grabbed his hand and lurched to her feet, then wiped the grass from her skort. “I’m great. I thought we were meeting later.” Somewhat relieved to see Roger, she still frowned. She didn’t need a rescuer; she could handle her own problems.
“We were, but I realized The Wing Stop is closed on Sundays, and I thought I’d just stop by and wait. Then I saw Nathan here and—well, it seemed okay. Is it? Okay?” He looked confused.
Nathan patted his shoulder from behind. “Not really. We were just getting started. Get lost, Freeman.”
The only thing he could possibly start at the moment was his exit strategy. Caroline really didn’t care for Nathan. Sure, his girlfriend—scratch that—ex-girlfriend had been a bitch, but he wasn’t exactly a pot of gold either. He was as slimy and greasy as that jungle-gym tube from the night before. She peeked at Roger, noting the uncertainty behind those brown eyes. He was unsure whether to stay or go—whether he’d interrupted something personal or business-focused. She clicked the flash off and dropped the camera to her side, giving him a laser-beam smile. “You know, I think I twisted something when I fell. Mind if we take a rain check, Nathan? Call this number and we can set up another time.” She flashed another business card his way, thankful she’d set up an answering service.
Nathan blinked and glanced from her to Roger then back. “Seriously?”
She nodded, her gaze focused on Roger. “Seriously.”
“Okay then.” Nathan’s voice brought them both back to reality, and Roger stepped back. She could have sharpened a knife on the daggers Nathan shot at Roger before striding away. Roger watched him leave, then turned toward her and dimpled up. “Looks like I might be ousted from the house soon. Good thing I’m a senior.”
“You know, I can handle his type.”
“I’m sure you can, Caroline, but I’m not so sure I want you to. He’s ... slick.”
She tapped a finger to his nose and whispered. “I vaguely remember you being very slick last night. And you shouldn’t talk about one of your fraternity brothers that way.”
His dimples didn’t show. “I don’t mean that kind of—”
Was he seriously about to give her a lecture on how to handle guys? She wasn’t ten. “Speaking of slick, it took almost an entire bottle of shampoo to get that stuff out of my hair. Please tell me your kitchen doesn’t cook with that stuff. Imagine what it’d do to your insides. Wherever we go to eat, I think I’m done with fried foods. How about salad?”
He lifted a brow.
“Okay, no salad. How about barbecue?”
“Sounds perfect. Maybe afterward we could throw Nathan on the pit, too.” He hoisted the camera bag over a shoulder and grabbed her hand.
Two weeks later, Caroline rose from her seat in World Journalism class with a weight in her stomach. Two more weeks and they’d be off for the holidays. Winter break. One more semester closer to graduation.
“Ms. Sanders, may I have a moment?” Mr. Dennis, her instructor, called as she approached the door.
She turned. “Sure, what’s up? I know I didn’t do as well as hoped on the final, but—”
He held up a palm to silence her. “It’s not that. I wanted you to take a look at this.” He passed her a paper. “They’re going to post it next week, but I thought of you when I read it. You mentioned wanting to do a traveling internship, right?”
Caroline read through the notice, which described a new website that advertised available internships abroad. She nodded. “Wow, thanks so much for thinking of me. What an opportunity.”
“Yes, it is. I hope you find something and submit quickly—usually the first ones get a little more consideration.”
The words sunk in further. He’d essentially just given her first dibs on any internship available. Holy crap.
“Yes, sir. Absolutely. I’ll start looking tonight.”
He frowned and shot one last instruction before he rushed to his office. “Whatever you choose ... do a good job.”
She hoped it would be good enough.
As she spotted Roger waving from outside the door, a small stone of uncertainty developed within her. She’d always planned on leaving, following her father’s trail, but was that the right thing for her? Roger’s welcoming dimples gave her confusing feelings about her future plans.
The fact that he’d waited for her made her feel safe. She wasn’t sure how they’d evolved into—something. They just had. With no planning and zero effort, Roger had fallen into her life along with his clumsy dog. They’d simply showed up again on her step—over and over. First, he had come to replace the broken planter, then to fix her chair. After that, to get advice on a new camera. Another time to show her pictures from the party—she cringed at the way her damp clothing had revealed her boyish shape.
Each time they talked for hours while Conan lounged against their legs or rolled over to offer his massive chest for a massage. After a few days, she suggested they walk him around the campus and test his training. The dog flirted with every passerby, and he became so popular that on their fourth walk, one student even threw him a rawhide.
Roger wasn’t really a boyfriend, but he was more than just a friend. They had begun “semidating” despite their pending graduation in the spring—only six months away. The realization brought Caroline an intense, tight panic. She didn’t need this, not now—and the last thing she was ready for was a man who expected things of her. Someone who could trip her up while she planned her future. Her career. Her dream of becoming a journalist. She glanced at the paper in her shaking hand. The perfect opportunity—right within reach—and her instructor had thought her worthy enough to get a first shot.
She blinked. Being with Roger was easy, comfortable, and she craved him like she craved Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. She didn’t need him in her life—he was a distraction—but God help her, she wanted him.
“Everything okay?” he asked when she joined him outside the classroom.
“Perfect.” She slid the paper inside her backpack and tossed it over a shoulder as they headed for his car.
Chapter Six
After the first TKE frat party, Caroline was apprehensive about going with Roger to another, but he’d insisted. Still, she made a point of knowing the theme before agreeing to be his date. She surveyed her outfit and leaned toward the bathroom mirror to apply lip gloss and glitter. After all, Tinker Bell was covered in sparkle, right? A holiday sparkle-costume party sounded a lot less hazardous than the slippery ball-and-chain event. What could possibly go wrong with sparkle and glitter?
Her cell vibrated on the counter, and she snatched the device before it slipped to the floor.
Her mother’s voice on the other side had a fatigued whine. “Hey, sweetie, what are you up to?”
Caroline grinned. “At the moment, I’m plastering myself in face glitter and fake eyelashes.”
A giggle came through the earpiece. “Well, that’s nice, though I never figured you for the fake-anything look.”
Caroline shifted the phone to her shoulder and slipped into her black boots. While she’d doused herself in glitter and her sequined shirt reflected like a disco ball, she wasn’t donning a skirt. She didn’t feel like baring her legs in the cold. “I’m going to a frat party—as Tinker Bell. Can you believe that? A friend of mine asked me to come¸ and he should be here soon. Everything okay there?”
A couple seconds of silence made her wonder if she’d lost the connection. “Yeah, yeah, I just wanted to make sure you’re planning to come home for winter break.”
Caroline flicked off the light and strode toward the closet to retrieve a jacket. “Of course I am. What else would I do? We have finals next week, and I’ll leave after my last test. I’ll let you know then. Gotta go, Mom, my friend’s here.”
She clicked the phone just as Roger rapped on the door. She felt guilty for not divulging more about their friendship, but she wasn’t quite ready to expose him to her world. His world was so much bigger and bolder; hers was quiet and simple. And perhaps a tad boring. She hated hanging up on her mother, too, but time was limited. Besides, they’d talk for hours once she made it home for break—it could wait until then.
Caroline whisked the door opened and thrust her tongue into her cheek to stifle a laugh. She cast her gaze up and down Roger’s costume. “Well, that’s certainly full of sparkle.”
Roger held out his arms and did a very Motown-ish twirl in a deep-plum sequined suit. Or was it a tuxedo? “Isn’t it awesome? I found it at a thrift shop.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m getting visions of matadors, Michael Jackson, and—”
He whisked his hand from his back and held out a royal-blue felt hat, then pointed at his toes. “I’m a rhinestone cowboy. See. Check out this hat.” With a flick of his wrist, he rolled the hat atop his brown waves and lifted his lips into a slow, devious grin.
Caroline felt the increasingly familiar kick of warmth and released a giggle. “Ha. Tinker Bell and Tinseltown. Aren’t we a pair?”
Roger crooked his arm for her and bowed. “You ready, Tink?”
She squinted up at the light over the front door. Between their sequined bodies and the glow above, a kaleidoscope of color danced over her steps. Slipping a hand
into his arm, she bounded down and headed to the party.
The evening was surreal—like waking up in the middle of Ever After. Caroline imagined that those wings on Drew Barrymore’s costume would have made an awesome addition to her Tinker Bell get-up.
Once the slow music started and Roger pulled her tight, she realized wings would have severely hampered her ability to get close to him. Forget the wings. Wings are highly overrated.
“You look blissful—like you just ate an entire bag of potato chips.” As Roger’s big browns focused on her face, she noted there was a swipe of glitter on his chin. Had that come from her? And how had he discovered her fetish for salty chips?
“This is better. So much better. All these lights and people dressed up like a ball. It’s perfect.” She waved at their surroundings.
“You’re perfect.”
Was he teasing? His eyes held no mirth. She knew she wasn’t even close to perfect, but it was nice to hear.
“Yeah, right.”
She peeked over his shoulder and noted Nathan approaching. “Creep alert, two o’clock.”
Roger glanced at his fraternity brother. “Hey, give him a break. You can’t fault the guy for trying to date perfection. I’m just glad I found you first.”
Caroline wasn’t sure he’d technically found her, but she registered the compliment. “I don’t think you actually found me so much as kidnapped me.”
“Details are irrelevant.” Roger wrapped an arm over her shoulder and drew her close. He kissed her hair. “Besides, you are with the hottest cowboy here, and I’ve been told girls love guys in boots and cowboy hats.”
She cocked a brow. “I don’t think that includes sequined suits that likely belonged to a Prince wannabe.”
“I could always take it off,” he whispered in her hair.
Need Me Page 4
