Test Shot (21 page)

“If it comes to that.”

“If it comes to that?” Sawyer shook his head and pushed a hand through his hair. “You’re one creepy-ass dude.”

“You have a tendency to use the word ‘ass’ as an adjective entirely too much.”

Much to his shock, Sawyer laughed. Well, it was more of a combination gasp and chuckle, but Aidan wasn’t in the mood to split hairs. “You know, you could try running your high-handed schemes by her for once. Just for kicks.”

“Do you think she’ll say no to you?”

“Maybe she’ll say no to
you
,” Sawyer tossed back.

Aidan shook his head. “She’s not ready to leave me. And I’m not about to give her reason to.”

“Haven’t you already?”

“I only have her best wishes at heart. I would never hurt her.”
Not willingly. Not if I had any other choice.

“Not real sure how you got here from there in your mind, but okay, sure, whatever you say. And just FYI—she’s hurting.
You’ve
hurt her. She thinks you don’t want her anymore.”

Aidan reached for his glass, lifted it halfway to his lips. Set it down again. “I’ll talk to her. Explain.”

Explain what, exactly? If he confessed all to her, revealed everything he’d kept buried for so many years, she would try to understand. Layla was a nurturer, and she would fight to make sense of what he was going through. She would probably believe him if he said he’d never intended to take his repressed needs out of the closet. He’d committed himself to her, his best friend. He knew he was unlikely to ever find anyone else he could love as much as he did her—woman
or
man. He didn’t want to. But even if she did take him at his word, broken as it was, she wouldn’t ever look at him the same way again.

If that even mattered anymore, since she was clearly confiding personal information about their very flawed relationship to a man she’d just met. A man she obviously had feelings for. Reciprocated, complicated feelings.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Sawyer muttered.

“What do you expect me to do?” Aidan tightened his fingers around the glass until he half expected it to shatter under the pressure. “I won’t lose her.”

“So she’s a possession to you. Like that sweet Beamer you drive.”

Aidan glanced at Sawyer. The guy practically donned a superhero cape when it came to Layla. As much as that should’ve annoyed him, he couldn’t help thinking he’d chosen well. Too well, maybe.

As a doctor, he’d always dwelled firmly in the here and now. Medicine relied on science, and it didn’t leave a lot of room for intangibles. Yet every now and then, he had to wonder. Was it just happenstance Layla had latched on to Sawyer’s photos when Aidan had been about to ask her to consider bringing another man into their sex life?

The guy was from Nebraska. A step away from being their neighbor, for God’s sake. He couldn’t have been more perfect for Layla if Aidan had built him to her exact specifications.

Which begged the question: was she meant to meet Sawyer? And if so, what the hell did that mean for him?

It means you’ve been turning away from what’s meant for you.

Aidan took another bracing sip of brandy. No, he was simply picking another direction. He’d decided a long time ago that this was the path he wanted to take. Occasionally forks opened up in the road. Possibilities presented themselves. But no matter what, he wanted to be with Layla. They were on the threshold of their future. All he had to do was wait out what had chased him from Nebraska and make sure it didn’t taint what he had here.

And maybe, just maybe, he needed to cool it with the alley sex shows.

“She’s no one’s possession,” Aidan murmured. “Least of all mine. She’s the best part of me, and I won’t lose her. We belong together.”

“Enough,” Sawyer said, taking the decanter Aidan had reached for without even knowing it. “You’ve hit your limit.”

“Says who?” He was slurring his words, and that fucking pissed him off. “This is my home. My brandy. My—”

“Yes,” Sawyer agreed quietly. “She’s yours. You won’t hear any arguments from me.” He cracked his knuckles, the sound breaking the uneasy silence that descended. “I’m outta here.”

“Spend the night.” His empty glass taunted him, so Aidan shoved it away. “I’ll take the couch. You stay with her.”

Sawyer said nothing, but the weight of his stare drilled a hole into the side of Aidan’s skull. A moment later, he made a low noise of defeat and strode out of the room.

“That went well,” Aidan murmured as the front door slammed shut.

* * * *

“What time should I be there?”

Layla glanced at her Day Planner and shuffled appointments around in her head. Fitting in Trent Jeffries was important. Assuming all went well, he would fill out her roster. He would make up for—

No. Don’t even think about him.

She grasped the phone with her suddenly damp palm. “How’s three thirty?”

“Sounds great, Mrs. Palmer. I’ll see you then.”

“Ms. Palmer. I’m not married.”

“Oh.” Trent paused, probably taken aback. As he should be. Was that really important to point out to a possible new client? “My apologies.”

“No problem. See you this afternoon, Mr. Jeffries.”

Grimacing, she hung up and pressed her scalding forehead to the back of her hand. She had a fever. Maybe she was getting the flu. Manda had been out for two days. No wonder she’d felt queasy and hot for the last hour.

It wasn’t because Leon had demanded Sawyer and Kiana return for another series of test shots. He wouldn’t hire talent until he was absolutely certain that they would work for his needs. That Sawyer wasn’t even officially a Hot Shots model didn’t seem to matter. He’d “liked the look of them together” and wanted to try some more pictures before he made any decisions. Racier ones. The last time she’d seen Kiana, she’d been prancing up the hallway in a sarong and bikini top.

Though they were shooting just two rooms away, she hadn’t stopped by to watch. She hadn’t seen Sawyer since last Tuesday night. A week ago already. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she was ready to see him after his disappearing act. Scratch that. She was positive she wasn’t up to seeing him yet. Obviously the feeling was mutual, since he hadn’t called or made any attempt to visit.

When she’d awakened later that night, Sawyer had been gone, and Aidan was sleeping beside her, his arm loosely stretched over her waist as always. So completely normal, yet it wasn’t. She was beginning to think nothing would ever be normal between them again.

Aidan hadn’t mentioned Sawyer for the rest of the week. It was as if he’d never come into their lives. He’d missed his “must-see action” yet again, but he hadn’t suggested keeping the affair going. As if keeping it going was even an option on the table anymore.

Sawyer must’ve had second thoughts. Or third or fourth thoughts. Who could blame him? This was one hell of a fucked-up situation. Nothing that had occurred between them—the meal they’d shared, the laughter, the conversation—changed that she was pledged to another man, one she loved without reprieve.

She rubbed her grainy eyes. Then there was the sex. God, the sex.

Images zoomed behind her eyes. Sawyer holding her down while he fed her his cock. That dazed smile he flashed when he was between her legs, as if there was nowhere else on earth he’d rather be. The flex of his stomach muscles when he surged inside her ass, his face so focused and intense. She could still hear his wild shout in her head when the office was too quiet.

Like right now.

She grabbed her mug and headed down the hall. More coffee would wake her up. That the communal coffee and water station was right outside the room Leon was using to do his test shots was incidental. It also wasn’t her fault she spilled hot coffee on her hand and jumped back so fast that she glimpsed Sawyer in a clinch with Kiana.

God, he was cupping her face in his hands. Using those soft lips he’d kissed
her
with to make love to Kiana’s mouth. The cameras flashed while she hitched her leg on his hip, revealing her leg practically to her groin.

The picture they made was of total abandonment. Young, sexy love.

He was so beautiful. So beautiful, and so not hers.

Layla’s heart pitched, threatening to break through her chest. First she’d probably throw up the lunch she hadn’t eaten. Twice.

She had to get out of here right now before she did something stupid, like call a halt to the scene. Or start crying. Either reaction wouldn’t be good.

Blindly, she stepped back. She squealed when she bumped into a solid form.

“Easy,” Con murmured, steadying her with his hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Sure. Fine.” She swabbed her hand over her mouth and prayed she wouldn’t give herself away. Too late there.

She sought out Sawyer, who’d lifted his head to stare at Layla through the open doorway as if she were a specter. Again she stumbled back, bumping Con once more and undoubtedly sloshing coffee over her top, before managing to spin away.

Her office. She needed to get back there and stay inside until she was sure she wouldn’t make a fool out of herself. If that took a year or two, fine.

She’d made it over the threshold when tense fingers grabbed her arm. She whirled around, a protest on her tongue. It died away when she looked into Sawyer’s concerned blue eyes.

God, how could she ache so much just from that?

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.” The response came so fast she didn’t have time to decide if it was true.

She had a sneaking suspicion she might not ever be all right again, but he didn’t need to know. This wasn’t the time or place. He didn’t deserve for her to dump her emotional baggage at his feet, in any case.

“You don’t look all right.”

“Thanks,” she muttered, swallowing a scorching mouthful of coffee. Blessedly only a few drops marred her white blouse. “Compared to Kiana, I’m sure I don’t.”

Before he could reply, she sighed and held up a hand. “Sorry. Completely inappropriate. I’m just not feeling well. Being sick makes me cranky.”

“You’re sick?” His brow creased. “What’s wrong?”

“Just really tired and queasy. And hot,” she said, tempted to keep going if her list of symptoms would offer a valid reason for her interruption. “You should go back. I’m fine.”

“Queasy,” he repeated. She didn’t get why his eyes narrowed until he added, “Sure you’re not pregnant?”

“Of course not.” She knew she’d snapped, but she didn’t care. He shouldn’t be asking that. Worse, he shouldn’t be putting the idea in her head so that now she’d have babies on the brain to go with everything else she shouldn’t be thinking about.

Everything else she probably wouldn’t ever have.

“Sorry. Forgot the protection speech I got courtesy of your fiancé.” With a wry smile, he nudged her inside her office and shut the door. Imprisoning them together in a room that suddenly felt way too small.

“You need to go back. You were in the middle of a shoot.”

“Leon called for a break right after you gasped.”

“I did not gasp.”

“Sure you did. We all heard it. What happened? Did you spill your coffee?”

Your tongue was down her throat.

“Layla?”

“You’re a natural.” She gripped the handle of her mug until her knuckles went white. “It really looked as if the minute the cameras stopped rolling, you’d lay her down and make love to her. Although maybe you weren’t acting, huh?”

His ears reddened a heartbeat before he tightened his jaw. “Yeah, I’m working my way through the women at Hot Shots. Every chick here is fair game.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Ignore me. Cranky, remember?”

“And jealous.”

She opened her eyes and frowned at the smile tugging up one corner of his disturbingly skillful lips. “Me, jealous?”

“You’re lime green.” He tucked a loose curl behind her ear, then drew his hand back as if he hadn’t meant to touch her. Just what she needed to feel even better.

“Queasy, remember? Hot, exhausted, and generally miserable too.” She walked to her desk, hoping he’d get the hint and leave.

Instead he dropped into the visitor’s chair and spread his long legs. “When did you eat last?”

“I had a grapefruit for breakfast.”

“Of course you did,” he murmured.

When she glanced up, he was staring, quite unrepentantly. Her pulse quickened, and the pressure at her temples grew.
One Sawyergasm on its way.

“You should get back.”

“Trying to get rid of me?”

“No. I just have—” She gestured at her desk and tried to remember what exactly she did in there. “Work,” she said weakly.

“Then I’ll leave you to it.”

“Great. Thank you.”

But he didn’t move.

She swallowed and leaned back in her chair.
Be polite. All business. Don’t act like you want to crawl into his lap and kiss him senseless
. “Did you need something?”

“If I did?”

Oh God. Butterflies—screw it, crazed hummingbirds—started flapping in her already touchy stomach. “Depends what you’re looking for.”

He braced his hands on his knees and shook his head. “I’m guessing I won’t find it here.”

Low blow, Blake
. But she couldn’t blame him. Though she did. She blamed both him and Aidan. Most of all, she blamed herself for this whole stupid, sordid, ridiculous mess.

“Do you want to have lunch?” she asked as he stood, suddenly desperate to keep him in her sight. It wasn’t because she knew where he—and his mouth—were going next.

“It’s Tuesday. Isn’t that your day to eat with Aidan?”

He’d remembered. “He’s stuck at school. Some faculty thing.”

“So you’re looking for a backup. Seems like I fill that role often with you.”

She flushed and looked down at her lap. Yeah, big-time bad idea. “Never mind. I probably shouldn’t eat anyway.”

“Yes, you should. Something light, but you need to eat.”

The worry in his voice had her lifting her chin. “Do you honestly care?”

It was petty of her to ask. She had no right to. But she was so damned confused, and she missed him, so much. Still, she had no claim on him. And it wasn’t fair to keep finding ways to reel him back into a situation he’d be better off extricating himself from as fast as possible.