The makeup artist, Carly something or other, merely chomped her pink bubble gum and shot a look over her shoulder in a way that signaled she’d dealt with this kind of resistance before, and it wasn’t her problem to solve.
Ava was talking with the photographer, but she held up a finger to halt the conversation when she saw Carly’s look.
“Hey, Luc!” she said, coming closer to where he sat perched awkwardly on a stool.
He rolled his eyes at her tone.
He knew that tone.
When Luc had been a kid, before Anthony was old enough to babysit the rest of them, a high school girl who’d lived next door to the Morettis had sometimes come over to babysit.
His parents had thought it was hilarious to tell poor Kimmy that the kids had to eat their vegetables.
The poor girl had spent hours trying everything from choo-choo train with broccoli to trying to sneak a green bean in with a Cheetos.
Ava’s voice right now had the exact same tone as Kimmy when she thought she could get him to eat a steamed Brussels sprout just by using her “nice voice.”
“Don’t even, Sims,” he said.
“Don’t what?”
“Try to sweet-talk me into wearing makeup.”
“Now, I know it’s not manly,” she said, quietly taking a bottle of some beige-covered fluid and one of the brushes from Carly. “But look, all the guys that come in here wear it. And nobody who looks at the picture will ever know.”
“Let me get this straight. You want me to wear makeup, even though nobody will know I’m wearing makeup?”
“Look, Moretti,” she said, her voice turning bossy. “You’re gorgeous as you are, you really, really are, but when it comes to headshots you’ll notice every shadow, every dark spot, and—”
She’d lifted her hand to dab something under his eyes but he grabbed her wrist. “No flattery, Sims.”
Kimmy had tried flattery too.
Oh my gosh, you’re turning into such a strong handsome boy. You know what would make you look even better…
Please. He saw right through that shit.
Ava’s eyes went big and limpid as she met his gaze, and her voice went low and imploring. “I know it sucks, but it’s just for a few minutes, and then we’ll get you out of here.”
Yup. Kimmy had tried pleading too.
Hadn’t worked then, wouldn’t work now.
“Will I get an ice cream cone?” he asked, his voice full of fake excitement.
Ava frowned in confusion. “Well sure, if you want—”
His fingers tightened meaningfully on her wrist. “No makeup, Sims. That’s final.”
She huffed, throwing her hands in the air with such exasperation he was forced to release her wrist. Ava shoved the makeup back at Carly before turning to scowl at him.
She was wearing a dress today, a knee-length blue number that seemed to somehow wrap around her, belting at her waist. The shoes were matching, and almost lethal in their height.
Even as he kept one eye on Carly and her evil makeup weapons, the other was on Ava. Things had been easier between them since that day at the diner, friendly even, when she wasn’t getting in his way.
But that didn’t mean he didn’t have some very pesky thoughts about how to undo that wrap-dress…
“All right, Carly, let’s back off,” she said, stepping back and folding her arms across her chest. “Guess we’ll have to go with haggard cop for the photos.”
“I thought you said I was gorgeous,” he said, shifting his weight on the stool.
“Oh, she says that to everyone,” Carly said, moving toward her black box of doom and putting the makeup away.
Luc caught himself before he could frown, but it annoyed him, just a little, that Ava didn’t seem to find him as attractive as he found her.
Sometimes, when their eyes caught, it was like fireworks.
But other times—most times—she seemed to prefer Lopez to him. Hell, she seemed to like everyone better.
And Ava actually touched Lopez. A teasing brush of the shoulder there, a slap on the arm here.
She never touched Luc. Not if she could help it.