CHAPTER EIGHT

 

 

A gust of salty ocean air whips my auburn hair over my shoulders while I stare intently at the rack of clothes set up on the beach side pier. I run my fingers over the meticulously stitched tees, distressed jeans, and skirts that flutter in the warm breeze, contemplating each of them. Only when I’m completely satisfied do I step back, hands on hips, so I can proudly admire my handiwork.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been working closely with one of the trendy little boutiques in LA to produce some more samples of Franco’s fashion line. It’s always a little tough for me to willingly pass the reins to someone else, but the boutique has done a stellar job crafting the clothes. Besides, it’s not as if I could launch an entire fashion line using my own sewing machine. The great work the boutique has done bodes well for the full launch of the limited line later on in the month. Every article of clothing that I’ve inspected has been sewn masterfully. The last thing I want is for anyone to buy the clothes and be disappointed with the quality, but everything looks fabulous.

This fashion line for Franco’s Burgers has been so different from any other pieces that I’ve designed, and I’ve loved every minute I spent pouring my heart into the stylishly laid-back clothing. I know Franco is going to go wild over every piece. Both his fans and our Glammers will go crazy, too.

I take my phone out and look at the time. Any minute now, the models Franco hired would be arriving to don the clothes and strike a pose for the beach side photo shoot. Between their skill, my camera work, and the gorgeous clothes, we should get some great photos to drum up a buzz about the upcoming launch. Franco has been posting quite a bit on his Facebook page lately, teasing the fashion line, and people are already going crazy trying to get their hands on it. After seeing how popular Franco’s posts were, Sutton set up an online waitlist for everyone who wants to be the first to know when the clothes are officially on sale. It’s already absolutely packed with names and we haven't even shown off all the clothes yet.

So, to say that life has been hectic as we all prepare for the launch is putting it mildly, but I don’t mind. The faster the days pass, the less likely I am to start daydreaming about the tatted, green-eyed biker of my dreams.

I slip my phone in the back pocket of my shorts with a sigh.

Ever since that night he brought the contract to the house and stayed for dinner, it seems like the harder I try to push thoughts of Cash to the back of my mind, the more I get distracted by him. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve looked myself in the eye in my bathroom mirror and told myself to stop drooling over a guy who has no interest in me.

What happened to not wanting to date?

Attempting to concentrate on anything other than Cash is enough to give me a headache. It’s like a light switch flicked on in my head the moment he sat down across from me in that booth at Franco’s Burgers, and now all I can think about is him. Then again, he probably has that effect on women everywhere, so maybe I should cut myself some slack.

He’s texted me a few times about the business deal with Franco, but I’d purposefully kept my responses short and to the point. If I engaged him any more than that, he’d start showing up in my dreams even more than he already is. I can hardly close my eyes without seeing him. I can’t even talk to my besties about it either, because I’m trying so hard to convince Sutton and Kali that I am absolutely not crushing on the sinfully handsome bad-boy in any way whatsoever.

Maybe eventually, I’ll even be able to convince myself.

Shaking my head to try and clear my thoughts, I do my best to focus on arranging the clothes so they’ll be easy to pass out to the models. Luckily, the day is absolutely perfect for a photo shoot. The golden sun is high overhead, there isn’t a cloud in the sky, and the ocean’s waves are perfectly cresting. I’ll get the models to lounge around on the beach, romp in the sand, and dance across the pier to show off the clothes. I want this shoot to radiate fun but chill energy so people of all different lifestyles can relate. I want this launch to go well, not only for our Glossed & Glammed reputation, but because Franco has never done anything like this before. I want to prove to him that giving G&G a chance to collaborate is the best choice he’s ever made for his burger shack.

I’m so busy organizing the clothes, double checking my camera equipment, and setting up the scene, that nearly a whole hour ticks by before I know it.

I twirl my hair around my finger, anxiety simmering in my core as I look around for the models. They should have been here ages ago. If we don’t get this show on the road soon, we’re going to miss the fabulous lighting that’s gleaming across the coast. We’re already working against the clock as it is. We’re careening toward our deadline and we’ve got to get these pics up on social media ASAP.

Over the sound of crashing waves, I suddenly pick up the loud drone of an engine revving closer. I’d booked this small strip of the beach a few miles away from Franco’s Burgers for the shoot, so no one else but my models should be headed this way.

I climb up onto the pier and shade the sun off my face in time to spot a sleek, black motorcycle zooming into the nearly empty parking lot. The sexy bike skids to a halt beside my car and the man on it swings one strong leg over the side of it and turns toward me. I know before the tall, muscular figure even pulls off his helmet that it’s Cash.

My heart leaps into my throat and I sway a little on my feet. Somehow, I manage to work up a smile despite the whirlwind of butterflies catapulting through me. To be honest, it’s harder to suppress a smile around Cash than it is to muster one. When he finally walks toward me, I feel as giddy as a teenager. Despite my efforts to be as cool as the expensive faux leather jacket straining over his tattooed and muscled arms, my head is spinning like a carnival ride. I wonder briefly why he wears faux? Mostly because I’ve never seen many Harley riders who don’t wear real leather. Then again, no devout vegan would wear actual leather.

“Hey!” I call, hoping my voice doesn’t give away my shock as I give him a wave.

Cash takes off one black glove to return my wave before removing his second one. His hair is effortlessly tussled from wearing his helmet in a way that is painfully unfair. How can anyone make helmet hair look so good?

He makes his way down the boardwalk and hops into the sand beside me. He faintly smells of oil, sun, and cologne. It’s an intoxicating combination to be sure. My knees start feeling weak again and I lean back against the side of the pier to hide my quivering legs.

“Hey, yourself,” he says, flashing me a grin before his expression grows slightly more somber. He digs his hands into his pockets. “I’ve got good news and bad news.”

“Oh, no,” I groan. Of course, this photo shoot can’t go off without a hitch. That’d simply be too easy. “Let’s just rip off the Band-Aid. Start with the bad news.”

He nods and without leaving me hanging for a second casually states, “The models aren’t coming.”

“They’re not coming?”

My voice comes out as a whimper as I repeat the words. It’s a good thing I’m already leaning against the sturdy boardwalk because if I wasn’t, I probably would have fallen right over.

Cash rests a comforting hand on my shoulder, but his sizzling touch does little to make me feel any steadier.

“No, they’re not. I just got off the phone with the agency before coming out here. Apparently, they got booked last-minute for a fashion show in the city. They’ve got an ironclad contract with that venue that states if the models are needed there, they have to go. There wasn’t much of a choice for anyone unfortunately, especially because the models were doing this shoot as a favor to Franco in the first place. They offered to reschedule for next week, though.”

“Next week? We can’t wait until then!” I say. “We have to get this done today or else we won’t be able to meet our deadlines.”

As I stand there feeling like everything is crashing down around me, a slow grin spreads across Cash’s handsome face.

“Well, that’s where the good news comes in. I had a feeling you’d say that, so no worries. You’ve still got a model.”

Confusion wells inside of me at the same time Cash slips off his jacket and tosses it behind him on the boardwalk. Before I can even blink, he reaches over his shoulder with one hand to grip his shirt and pull it over his head.

An ocean wave loudly roars up the beach just in time to hide my astonished gasp.

As if Cash wasn’t enticing enough fully clothed, without his shirt he’s so stunning that someone could put him in a museum and call him a masterpiece. He’s a hunky work of art crafted with rock-hard abs and expertly emblazoned tattoos that slither across his tan chest. The sparkling California sun reveals no flaws whatsoever.

“Wh-what are you doing?” I eventually sputter.

He blinks and then cocks his head as if the answer is obvious. “Modeling. I mean, I’ve never done it before, but it can’t be too hard.” He gestured at the fully loaded garment rack. “Those are the clothes, right?”

When I nod wordlessly, he jogs over to take a look at everything I’ve brought. Just as he had with my portfolio, he takes his time inspecting every article of clothing before nodding and looking over his shoulder at me. Fortunately, I’m still too flabbergasted at his abrupt suggestion to be openly gaping at him when his emerald gaze sweeps over me.

“These outfits are killer! I’d wear these any day. My old man is going to be so impressed. You ready to get this photo shoot going?”

“Um, of course,” I mumble in a voice that only shakes a little.

I grab my pricey digital camera, glad to hide my scarlet face behind it as I push up my sunglasses and hold it to my eyes.

For the next few hours, Cash struts his sexy stuff up and down the beach while I snap picture after picture. He claims not to have ever done this before, so he must have been a model in another life because it seems to come effortlessly to him. He’s as happy in front of the lens as Sutton and Kali are. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m the only person in the whole world who turns into an awkward turtle the moment someone tries to snap a photo of me.

When we’re finished, I start to put my camera away but he quickly takes it back out of the bag.

“Not so fast,” he says with a grin. “What about the women’s wear?”

I jerk my head up in surprise. “You’re going to model that, too?”

Cash bursts into laughter. It’s strange now when I think back to how gruff and tough I thought he was when we first met, but he chuckles with startling ease. It’s a beautiful melody, too, and never fails to flood me with warmth.

“No way. I mean, I’m sure I could definitely rock a miniskirt, but I think your fans would rather see you wearing it. We’ll trade. I’ll take the pics while you pose.”

A tense wave rolls up my spine, leaving me as rigid as a wooden plank. My eyelashes flutter wildly.

Me?

Model?

Heck, no!

“Do you even know how to work the camera?” I ask, praying he doesn’t so I don’t have to do this.

Cash lifts the camera to his face and peers through the lens at me. He snaps a few practice shots and then lowers the device to grin at me again.

“I know enough,” he says. “Don’t look so scared, Liv. You said yourself that we need to get these pics done. I may not be as talented as you are with the camera, but you’re so gorgeous that it won’t matter. Besides, people are into more candid shoots these days. I looked it up.”

His smile widens and his green eyes gleam proudly.

I swallow a startled squeak, blushing yet again at his unexpected compliment.

“Go get changed,” he says. “I’ll wait here.”

Unfortunately, there’s not much room for argument.

I reluctantly head over to the clothing rack and grab the first outfit—a distressed faux leather miniskirt and a cropped tee with Franco’s logo on the front. I steal a quick look over my shoulder at Cash. He flashes a buoyant thumbs up. This is definitely not how I imagined this photo shoot would go, and these clothes are so outside my usual repertoire. I’m a billowy blouse and long, flowing skirt kind of girl. I don’t own anything that clings this tight to my thighs, but I don’t have much of a choice. We desperately need to get this done to keep our launch on track.

I slip into the nearby restroom and change into the clothes I got off the rack. I don’t even look in the mirror when I’m done because I’m worried that if I do, I’ll lose all my nerve. Then, nervously tugging the tight skirt lower down my legs, I escape back onto the beach.

“There she is,” Cash says. “Wow! You look great. Show off the goods, Liv!”

I can tell Cash is doing his best to hype me up, and the gesture is so sincere and sweet that I can’t help but smile. I know he’s merely complimenting me to be nice, so I don’t let his words go straight to my head. Or, at least, I try not to. My heart, on the other hand, isn’t exactly going along with the plan. It skips beats left and right as Cash whistles at me.

Making my way out toward the blue water, I do my best to copy some of Cash’s poses. I twirl along the edge of the pier, recline on some rocks nearby, and then kick around some sand. My own modeling session winds up being much shorter than Cash’s, but I’m pretty optimistic that we’ve got some good shots.

As the sunlight starts to fade, I reach for the camera, but Cash again shakes his head.

“I want to show you what I got first,” he says.

He sidles up next to me and flicks through the photos on my camera.

I’m so surprised at how I look that I don’t even recognize myself. Cash had continued snapping photos even while I was moving from one pose to another and in some of the pictures, my auburn hair is billowing in the breeze and my gaze is shyly pointed right at Cash. I’ve never seen myself smile like that before. My heart thrums in my chest even when I try to keep the simmering thrill fizzling through my soul at bay.

“Look at that,” Cash murmurs. “No one is going to be able to resist buying these clothes with you showing them off. Don’t you see how great you are, Liv? You’re a natural in front of the camera, even if you don’t realize it.”

I glance up at him and our gazes collide. The faint fizz in my core explodes into fireworks.

I know I can’t let myself fall for a bad-boy like Cash who wouldn’t look twice at me if we weren’t forced to work on this project together, but I can’t stop thinking about how good it feels to have him gaze at me this way. It was the first time I truly enjoyed being in front of the camera instead of hiding behind it. No one has ever made me that happy or willing to be noticed before. I’ve always been so content letting others bask in the spotlight instead of allowing myself to enjoy it occasionally, too.

When Cash’s green eyes are on me, I feel like a shooting star soaring through the sky. It’s going to hurt like crazy when I crash back down to the earth.