The first twitches of a smile moved my lips, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep it at bay. Maya’s camera clicked faster.
Jameson’s breath tickled my neck. “I just meant that it’s hot outside. I’m sweaty, too. It’s okay.”
His reassurance smoothed the ragged edges of my insecurity like aloe on a sunburn, and I could finally take a deep breath, my muscles relaxing a bit.
He took one hand from my waist and gently moved my hair over my shoulder, tucking it behind my ear. The sensation was so unexpected that I couldn’t help turning my head toward him and closing my eyes.
Maya’s camera went crazy.
Stop it, body. Stop reacting to his touch.
“Y’all are too cute,” Maya called. “Jameson, take Elsie’s hand and turn her around like you’re spinning her in a dance.”
There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in his body or a drop of sweat on his palm as he took hold of mine and slowly turned me around, letting Maya capture every angle. Though he claimed he was sweaty, I saw no sign of it and couldn’t help but wonder if he hid his disgust behind that dimpled smile.
The spin finished and, as if hearing my swirling thoughts, Jameson pulled me against him, his hands sliding around to my back. My hands naturally went to his chest, so,naturally,I noticed the ridiculous amount of muscle hidden beneath his shirt. He looked down at me, his hazel eyes flickering in the shafts of sunlight peeking through the flowers, those infernal dimples making another appearance.
“Hi,” he whispered. His breath smelled like mint.
I swallowed hard. “Um, hi.”
Jameson chuckled. “It’s just pictures. There’s no reason to be nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” I snapped, a little too loud.
He took it in a stride, and his smile widened.
“I see Maya was telling the truth.”
I arched a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
His hands tightened before he cradled my head against his shoulder. I hated how good this felt. I hated that part of me wanted to stay like this. I reminded myself it was only because it had been at least four years since I was shown any type of physical affection.
That’s all this was: a result of loneliness.
Right?
I glared at Maya from this new position, though all I could see was the giant camera lens covering her face. This was all her fault.
“Smile, Elsie!” Maya sing-songed, and my scowl deepened.
“Don’t worry,” Jameson reassured me. “She didn’t say anything bad, unless you disagree with her assessment that you’re a grumpy firecracker.”
I snorted, pulling back far enough to look at him. “Maya has an uncanny ability of nailing personality types.”
“Look longingly into her eyes!” Maya ordered Jameson, sounding far too happy.
Jameson tilted my face up with the tip of his finger under my chin. “So, you don’t disagree?” he asked, before his hand moved to cup my cheek.
I froze at the touch, at the shiver it sent through me. My cheeks were probably fifty shades of red, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t break his stare. His thumb traced a line over my cheek.
I was vaguely aware of Maya moving closer, getting shots from different angles, but my sole attention was on Jameson and the hold he had on my body.
“No,” I finally answered. “I don’t disagree. I know I’m a grump.”
Jameson’s dimples deepened as he smirked. “Hey, Maya,” he said without breaking eye contact with me. “What’s my personality?”
The click of the camera paused. “If there was a magic potion that combined the rays from the sun and the happiness women feel when they drink their first pumpkin spice latte of the season, I think you would have consumed seven of them.”
