A Hot Mess

by Christy Gissendaner

  Several minutes later, Dylan called for a break, and the models rushed off to have a cigarette or throw up or whatever it was they did to keep their svelte figures. The girls glanced at Cait as they passed her, and she knew they were wondering what a nobody like her was doing with a man like Dylan.

  Sorry, gals, but I wonder that too.

  Dylan and his assistant hovered around the laptop. They spoke in low voices, but it sounded as if they were debating which pictures to send Paul.

  “No. Not that one,” Dylan said in a definitive voice. “Margot’s nose looks crooked.”

  Perhaps because it is. Cait shrugged off the uncharitable thought. It was not a nice thing to say, even if the gorgeous model deserved to have a slight flaw to counterbalance her stunning body.

  “What about this one?” Dylan’s assistant pointed to one of Cait’s favorite shots.

  All three models had their heads turned at different angles as if they each searched for someone just outside the range of the camera.

  Dylan crossed his arms and tapped his forefinger against his lips. “Hmmm. It has potential.”

  As if he suddenly remembered she was there, Dylan turned and caught her eye. He motioned her over. “Cait, come here. I want to ask your opinion on something.”

  Cait slid her pink heels back on—she’d won the shoe battle that morning—and tottered over to him. Dylan slid an arm over her shoulders and gathered her to his side. A whiff of his cologne teased her nostrils, and she inhaled, savoring the clean woodsy scent of him.

  Dylan turned her to face the computer screen. “Which one do you like?”

  Cait reared back in alarm. “Dylan, don’t ask me. You know I’m not a photographer.”

  “Yes, but you have eyes, Cait. If you were reading a magazine, which shot would catch your attention first?”

  Cait bit her lip and pondered each picture in turn. She pointed to one at the bottom of the screen. “That one’s pretty nice.”

  Dylan’s assistant clicked on her choice to enlarge it. The selected shot filled the screen. Cait was quite proud of her choice. The models were splayed on the lounge with their knees together, but their ankles far apart. It was a perfect mix of sensuality and innocence.

  Dylan gave her a look. “I like that one too.” He turned his attention back to his assistant. “Gretchen, put that in the folder to send Paul as well.”

  Gretchen did as Dylan ordered without question. Cait smiled with pride at the thought that she’d helped out.

  The models returned about ten minutes later, so Cait headed back to the chair. The rest of the shoot was uneventful, and after what seemed like a thousand shots later, Dylan finally called it to an end.

  Everyone packed up, and Dylan came to her. “Are you ready to go?”

  She pushed out of the chair and stood. “Sure. What happens now?”

  “Gretchen is going to send the shots to Paul, so I’m free the rest of the day.” He took her arm and tickled the inside of her elbow. “Would you like to go for lunch?”

  Even though she’d just eaten the falafel, her stomach growled. “I would kill for a cheeseburger.”

  “Murder will not be necessary.” Dylan grinned. “I will feed you. Come on.”

  Cait drew back and lifted a brow at him. “You’ve been very bossy today.”

  Dylan’s grin widened even farther. “You don’t like it?”

  “Well I didn’t say that.” Cait slid her arm around his and tugged. “Now come on. Let’s get food.”

  * * * *

  After lunch, Dylan took Cait to Central Park.

  They strolled toward the water and found an empty bench. It was a clear day, but cold. Dylan glanced at Cait, who was bundled in a pink parka with a fur-trimmed hood. She had argued when he took her shopping, but he’d insisted she needed warmer clothes. The ones he’d bought in Vegas were designed for much milder weather than what they’d encountered in New York.

  Cait stretched out her legs and crossed her boots at the ankles. She’d drawn the line at sneakers, but she’d allowed him to buy a pair of snow boots. She wore them with stretchy jeans, and the clomping sound her boots made as she walked was adorable.

  He didn’t have the heart to tell her snow was not expected for several days. In Atlanta, they did not have many opportunities to witness snow, and her childlike enthusiasm was contagious.

  The wind picked up, and a chilly breeze stirred the short strands of hair near Cait’s ears. She brushed them aside and smiled at him. The gesture warmed his heart. She was so lovely. It was a shame she couldn’t see it.

  Dylan wanted to tell her then and there, to pour out his heart and tell her he’d fallen head over heels in love with her. The past three days had cemented his feelings. He’d crushed on her. He’d lusted after. Hell, he’d even loved her. But not like this. Now he ached to be with her, to tell her she was the only one for him.

  But he knew Cait. She would think it was too soon, and he would risk losing her. He knew she intended to go back to just friends. But he couldn’t. He wanted so much more, and he had to make her understand.

  Dylan opened his mouth, but a loud squawking sound drew Cait’s attention away.

  “Oh my goodness! Look at the geese!” Cait pointed toward the lake.

  Dylan looked, sighing with regret as he did so.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket. Not now.

  Dylan grabbed his phone and hit a button. He held it to his ear, shooting Cait an apologetic look as he did so. “Hello?”

  “Hey, man. Gretchen sent the pictures. They’re fucking awesome!”

  Dylan grinned at Paul’s enthusiasm. “You’re welcome.”

  Paul cleared his throat suggestively. “So is Cait still with you?”

  “Yes.” Dylan tilted his head away from her as he lowered the volume on his phone. Paul talked loud, and he didn’t trust his friend not to say something embarrassing that Cait could potentially overhear. “We’re at the park.”

  “Have you done it yet?”

  Dylan pulled the phone away from his ear to give it a quizzical look and then put it back. “Done what?”

  “Come on, man. You know what I’m talking about.”

  “No, seriously. I have no clue.”

  “Tell her you want her! Even a fool can see it,” Paul exclaimed. “Tell her now before she goes back to that shithead that dumped her.”

  “How did you even…” Dylan’s voice trailed off as he shook his head. “Never mind. I don’t even want to know.”

  Paul chuckled. “Facebook. Cait apparently had a guy-bashing marathon, no doubt fueled by alcohol, the night he dumped her.”

  Dylan groaned and buried his face in his hands. Cait didn’t even have her cell with her. He hated to think how she got online. Visions of her hanging out in the hotel’s business office using the guest computers came to him. He doubted she even remembered doing it. She certainly hadn’t mentioned it to him.

  “So are you going to tell her?”

  “That’s none of your business.” Dylan stood and walked away from Cait who still seemed to be absorbed in watching the geese. “But to answer your question, not yet.”

  “Stop being a dick and tell her already.”

  Dylan laughed. “You’re such an ass, Paul. Have I ever told you that?”

  “All the time, and it warms my very soul.”

  Although he was annoying at times, Paul was a good friend. Dylan glanced over his shoulder at Cait, who waved at him. He returned the gesture. “It’s too soon. I’ll do it though.”

  “Sometime before you die would be nice.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I hear you. But can I talk to you later? I have stuff to do.”

  “Oh, sounds interesting.”

  Dylan could practically hear the waggle of Paul’s eyebrows through the phone. “Bye, Paul.”

  After disconnecting the call, Dylan stuffed the phone in his pocket and strolled back to Cait. She stood and met him halfway. “Was that Paul?”

  “Who else?” Dylan
gave her a grin. “He likes the shots.”

  “Why wouldn’t he? They were fantastic, Dylan. I’m impressed.”

  Dylan knew she was sincere. Cait was easy to read at times. Her emotions were always written on her face. But not when it mattered. Whenever he pressed her about more than just sex, she closed down.

  “Now that I think of it, can I borrow your cell? I need to check my messages.”

  Dylan handed it over with a sense of dread. He had a hunch he knew who would leave her a message.

  Cait dialed a number and held the phone to her ear. Dylan walked away to give her a bit of privacy, but he couldn’t stop himself from straining to overhear. Damn him for turning down the volume of the speaker. He couldn’t hear anything.

  About two minutes passed before Cait ended the call and walked over to give him the phone.

  “Anything interesting?”

  Cait shook her head, but Dylan could see she was troubled. A frown turned down the corners of her pretty mouth, and her forehead was scrunched up as if in thought. Damn that Simon. If he did anything to upset Cait, Dylan didn’t know what he would do. Well actually he did know. He would find that rat-faced bastard and beat the shit out of him.

  A fierce surge of protectiveness filled Dylan. Cait was his. She always had been. He would not let her be hurt any further.

  The wind shifted direction, and the chill cut through the new leather jacket Cait had picked out for him. Dylan shivered and stuffed his hands deep in his pockets. “We should probably go. It’s getting cold.”

  The tip of Cait’s nose was adorably pink. She pulled her hood around her ears and huddled closer to him. “Okay. Do you want to go back to the hotel?”

  Dylan’s dick jerked to attention. There was nothing he wanted more, but he had given her sex. It seemed to be all she wanted from him. Dylan resolved to hold out on her, to make her beg like he’d teased her in Vegas. But this time he meant it. He would not have sex with her again until he had a sign she wanted more.

  Chapter 10

  On the ride back to their hotel, Dylan was unusually quiet.

  After several attempts at conversation, Cait finally gave up. She didn’t know what his problem was, but it had started not long after he’d gotten off the phone with Paul. She wondered if something had gone wrong with the pictures. He’d told her Paul loved them, but maybe the magazine bigwigs didn’t think so. But since he seemed unwilling to talk about it, she didn’t press him further.

  Dylan’s head was turned to look out the window, and Cait watched him with an admiring gaze. With his shaved head and black leather jacket, he was the stuff of fantasies. The bad boy persona she thought he’d buried in Vegas was peeping back out. It was more than just his clothes. His commanding presence, and the efficient way he’d handled those models sent his attractiveness shooting through the roof.

  If she were not careful, she would fall in love with him like those silly models.

  Cait’s mouth fell open on a silent gasp. In love? With Dylan?

  Her brain rebelled, but her heart warmed at the thought. It would be so easy to fall in love with her best friend. He was sexy and kind and everything a gal could want. The only problem was … Cait drew a blank. What was the problem? Why shouldn’t she allow herself to fall for Dylan?

  She wanted to touch him. She slid across the seat to sit next to him and put her hand on his thigh. The denim beneath her fingers didn’t mask the muscled hardness there. She rubbed her hand up and down and leaned over to whisper in his ear.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” Dylan replied, but his attention remained outside the window.

  Cait frowned and tried again. Her fingers tickled closer to his crotch. “What’s wrong?”

  Dylan’s hand clamped down on her wrist, and he turned his face to her. “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

  She struggled to free her wrist, but to no avail. “You’re being too quiet. Did Paul say something to upset you?”

  “No.” Dylan’s caramel-colored eyes remained focused on her. “He liked the pictures I sent, remember?”

  “If it’s not work, then what’s bothering you?”

  “Why should something be bothering me?” Dylan didn’t snap the words, but it was damned close.

  Cait knew something was wrong then. Dylan never snapped at her. “Okay, fess up. What happened to get your panties in a bunch?”

  Dylan’s somber mood disappeared as quick as lightning. “Seriously, Cait? Panties?”

  Cait finally succeeded in getting her hand free, and she crossed her arms with a huff. “Well. They seem to be.”

  “I’m just thinking.” Dylan reached up to brush his fingers against her cheek. “I’m sorry if I’ve ignored you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. After all you’ve done for me the past few days, it’s silly of me to demand more.”

  It seemed a lifetime ago, but it had only been three days since Simon left her. So much had happened since then that Cait found it hard to remember. But the messages her ex had left on her cell brought it all back home.

  The desperation and worry in Simon’s voice seemed genuine. He’d apologized profusely, saying the alcohol he’d had on the plane must’ve altered his judgment. He wanted her to call, but Cait was on the fence. Part of her longed to call and cuss him out, but another part worried she would let him talk his way back into her life. She couldn’t take the risk.

  Dylan’s face closed down again. “I’ve only done what any friend would do.”

  His words sucked the breath from Cait. She did not know how to respond. A friend would not have hopped in bed with her. The retort never made it to her lips.

  Perhaps it had already happened; he’d ended their short-lived affair. A pang shot through her. She wasn’t ready for it to be over.

  Dylan’s hand fell away from her face. “Cait, I…”

  She interrupted him. “No. Don’t say anything. I get it.”

  Dylan’s brows snapped together. “What is it you think you get?”

  “That you’re through.” Cait fluttered her hand in the air between them. “That you regret being with me.”

  A short bark of laughter escaped Dylan. “Is that what you think?”

  Cait lowered her hand. “I don’t know what to think.”

  Dylan put his hand under her chin and turned her face to his. “Baby, I’m not through with you.”

  “You’re not?” She stumbled over the words. Her pulse raced as she stared into his dark eyes.

  “No.” Dylan formed the word with a slow rounding of his lips. “But I want more.”

  Cait felt as if a ton of bricks landed on her. “More?”

  “Yes. More.”

  “More … sex?” Cait’s cheeks warmed at the thought.

  Dylan grinned, but darkness flickered in his eyes. “Is that what you want?”

  Cait gave a shy nod, even though her conscious screamed its denial. She wanted so much more than sex. “Yes.”

  He turned his head away in an abrupt motion. “Then, no.”

  “No?” Cait frowned. “Wait a minute. What just happened here?”

  “If you haven’t figured it out yet, then there’s really no reason for me to explain.”

  Cait tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. “Hey, look at me. Dylan, look at me.”

  He angled his head toward her, and Cait took a deep breath. “I don’t know what’s going on, but have I done something to upset you?”

  “No.” Dylan lifted his brow and pursed his lips as if he were surprised by the question. “I’m not upset.”

  “Okay.” Cait stretched the single word for several moments. “You’re acting like you’re upset.”

  Dylan didn’t answer. He turned his head away again, and Cait wanted to growl with frustration. Why couldn’t he just come right out and tell her what he wanted? She wished she knew what she wanted.

  The few days she’d spent with Dylan had been wonderful. She loved being with him. Sex was beyond amazing. He said he wanted more, but how
much more? Did he just want to remain fuck buddies? Or did he have a relationship in mind?

  Cait looked at him again, desperately wishing she was a mind reader. She would give anything to be able to read his thoughts. Maybe then, she could finally figure out her own.

  * * * *

  That night, Cait lay awake and stared at the ceiling.

  Dylan had not touched her once. After they’d gotten back to the hotel, he headed for the gym, and she had not seen him for hours. When he’d returned, he had been sweaty and disheveled and immediately locked himself in the bathroom to take a shower. The sight of him after an obviously strenuous work out had turned her on.

  She’d dressed in a skimpy black nightgown and pranced around the room, but Dylan had not seemed to notice. He came out of shower dressed in a pair of sweats. He’d ignored her as he went to the couch and turned on the television.

  Cait was nothing if not determined. She ordered champagne and strawberries from room service, and when it was delivered, she sashayed in front of him with the tray.

  “Would you like some?” She fluttered her eyelashes, but she failed miserably.

  Dylan placed his hand on his chest and idly scratched. “Naw, I’m watching the game.”

  “Suit yourself.” Cait sashayed back away. She sat on the other end of the couch and ate strawberries and drank champagne until she felt she would burst.

  She was ready to throw her hands up in frustration. What did she have to do? Draw him a sign?

  After the game was over, Dylan tossed her the remote and got to his feet. “I’m going to bed.”

  Here was her chance.

  Cait draped across the couch in what she hoped was an inviting manner. “Would you like some company?”

  Dylan shrugged. “Don’t go to bed on my account.”

  Cait’s heart fell. Maybe he really didn’t want her anymore, despite what he’d said earlier Or if he did, he was doing a damned good job of acting as if he didn’t.