She nodded and sat next to him—so close that his body began to hum at the contact. He watched her tweak the camera until it was on the image she wanted. Her fingers were long and elegant, her nails painted a skin-tone pink, such a muted color for so vibrant a woman.
“I caught this one when Mandy was sitting quietly, looking out her window. The hairdresser had just stepped away for a few more hairpins, so there’s only the first braid in her hair.” There was another pic of Mandy and Ivy holding hands and laughing, their mouths open, their eyes shining. Val remembered that they’d been friends in high school—because of Kit—even though they were a few years apart.
Ace flipped through a couple dozen images. She’d done a hell of a job documenting something so fleeting that it would ordinarily only be known by a person’s heart: she’d captured the truth. All the myriad emotions of the day. The love Mandy and Rocco had for each other. Zavi’s curiosity. Everyone’s stress, joy, and hope.
“Jesus, Ace. These are phenomenal. You should do this for a living.”
Ace set the camera aside and shrugged. He handed her the coffee he’d brought. It had cooled considerably. “To do it for a living, you have to put roots down somewhere. It’s hard to build a clientele when you’re never in the same place for long.”
“So stay put.”
She looked up at him. “I can’t.”
“Why not? You know you can talk to me.”
She sipped her coffee. He was glad she hadn’t moved away. “It’s not the time to talk about it. Tomorrow, not today.” She shivered as she sipped her coffee. He shrugged out of his tux jacket and set it around her shoulders. She lifted the lapel and sniffed his scent. And damn if that didn’t give him an instant hard-on.
Her gaze moved over his face, settling on his mouth. “You’re a nice man, Val.” She sighed. So did he. Friend-zoned again. “I guess I better collect my things and head home.”
They went inside. The lights had been dimmed. The whole house was quiet. She looked around for her bag. She’d worn a different outfit when she arrived. “I put your bag in my room. Didn’t want it moved somewhere in the mayhem of the day. I’ll go get it.”
“I’ll come with you. I want to change before heading back.”
Val led the way down the hall to the back stairs leading up to the second floor of the south bedroom wing. He opened his door and held it for her, then closed it and flipped on the light.
Her satchel was on his bed. She kicked off her shoes then presented her back to him. “Can you undo my zipper?”
“Yes. One second.” He crossed to the other side of the room and pulled the drapes closed.
She was smiling at him when he walked back to her. “Afraid someone will see you with a woman in your room?”
He grinned. “Yeah. That would shock the hell out of everyone around here.” He pulled her zipper down, revealing that stunning butterfly. Unable to stop himself, he touched it, then traced the line of the butterfly’s body down her back. Her bra strap was narrow. The open zipper stopped at the dimples at the top of her hips.
She pulled her dress off and stepped out of it. He leaned on the dresser behind her and watched. Her body was slim but curvy. The thong she wore matched her bra. Her ass cheeks were toned and tight. It was a fucking curse that she thought he was gay. It seemed to make her feel safe with him—Fiona had been right in that observation. For that reason alone, he was letting it ride. For now. Seducing her wasn’t his mission. Getting info from her was.
She looked at his big bed, then pulled a black tank on. “I wish I could just crash.”
“You can,” he said, but the thought of having her in his bed the whole night and not being able to explore her curves and taste her sex was a cruel twist of fate. Guess that’s what people meant when they said karma was a bitch.
She pulled on a pair of skintight blue jeans. They looked more like sleeves than pants on her long legs. “What would your friends say if they saw I was still here in the morning?”
“There’s that.” Val shrugged. “I can drive you home, if you like.”
“No. I don’t like being without my wheels.” She pulled a loose beige top over her tank, then slipped into a jean jacket. She shoved her dress in her bag, put her camera in its bag, then stepped close and gave him a kiss on his cheek. “Night, Val.”
“When are we doing something again?” he asked, careful to use jargon well inside the friend zone.
“I’m coming over to talk to Owen tomorrow.”
Val frowned. “About what?”
She touched his chest and gave him a sad smile. “Tomorrow.” He followed her down the hall to the front stairs.
Max was coming down the hall from the den. “Ace, before you go, I’d like your memory cards.”
The request didn’t surprise her. She handed him her camera bag. “Have at it. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”
Val opened the front door and walked her outside. She unlocked her car and tossed her bag in the back seat, then turned to face him. “Who are you, really, Ace?”
She sighed and looked over at the house. “I’m not ready to deal with reality yet, Val. Not so soon after a night like this. Tomorrow.”