Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. Don’t look at him. Do. Not. Look. At. Him.
She did, of course. How could she not? He had some sort of internal magnetic thing that zapped her into full-on stare mode—whether she liked it or not. And what did he do? Smiled at her. And tipped his hat like a real cowboy gentleman. Before heading her way.
“Think this was planned?” Jace asked, dodging a lighting assistant and stepping that much closer to her in the process.
Not looking at him would help—if she could manage it. But that wouldn’t stop her from inhaling his delicious denim-leather-sandalwood-aftershave scent. Especially this close. Her gaze darted to his chest. Right at her eye level. There was no denying there were some heavy-duty muscles underneath that cotton shirt. She didn’t need to look to know that since she’d used him as her personal pillow. And enjoyed it.
Dammit.
If her clueless brother had picked up on the combustible pulse between them, others would, too. If they hadn’t already. This was bad—for both of them.
Add on the imminent arrival of the surprise she’d arranged for Jace and she knew she’d messed up. Big-time. What had she been thinking? It was too late now. Damn it all.
“You know what they say, imitation is the best form of flattery.” She injected as much hard-ass venom into her words as possible. With a toss of her perfectly tousled curls, she put as much space between them as possible—without sparing him or his angled, stubbled jaw or perfectly cut bod a single look.
The fan was turned on, the lights were angled, and the posing began.
Performing onstage was one thing. It was in the moment. Constant movement. The crowd and music stirred her in a way that made things natural. Posing for pictures? Turning her chin another eighth of an inch to the right and down. Not smiling, smiling more, smiling but no teeth. Tossing her hair. A fake laugh. The fake laugh thing was the worst… Definitely outside her comfort zone.
Still, she did her best. At least she had Emmy and Travis to interact with. He was great at cracking them up and Emmy always seemed to know when she needed an encouraging smile or nudge. All the while, the photographer offered up suggestions, the camera shutter clicking away.
“Watch the shine on Emmy’s nose,” the photographer called, waiting until Emmy’s nose had been dusted before he took a few more shots. “Jace. Come on up.”
That’s when she risked a quick look. And regretted it. Poor Jace. He looked downright nervous.
“Let’s have Jace, Emmy, Travis, and Krystal.” The photographer nodded. “Squeeze in. Smiles.” A few dozen clicks. “Good. Now Jace and Krystal.”
Whatever sympathy she’d been feeling for Jace evaporated at the sound of her brother’s laugh. It wasn’t completely unex
pected. They were singing a song together. A duet. These pictures were marketing for the song. Her song. Nothing else.
“Face each other,” the photographer said.
She blinked, the weight of the photographer’s stare growing. Really? Fine. Dammit. She spun on her booted heel, took a deep breath, and glared up at Jace.
Jace burst out laughing. Full-bodied, dimple-inducing, from-the-toes laughter. Adorable and real and impossible to resist.
It had been a long time since she’d laughed like that. For a split second, she could forget the lights and cameras and people milling about. A second. And then Jace Black did something he shouldn’t have. Still smiling and breathless, he reached up and smoothed a curl from her forehead.
“Good,” the photographer said. “Let’s get the guitar in the shot.”
Just like that, the lights and cameras and people were there again. No doubt watching and analyzing every reaction or expression.
It had been an accident. One of those unexplained impulses. Nothing calculated. Or planned. Jace wasn’t the sort to do something like that. Was he?
“Here.” Jace handed her the guitar. “You okay?” It was a whisper.
No. Hell no. Nothing like getting blindsided by dimples and a nice ass to shake your confidence all over again. If she didn’t keep it together, she’d be swallowed up by a panic attack. Right now, that would only add to this mess. She strummed the strings, wincing at the sound the instrument made.
He chuckled. “Needs a little tuning.”
She nodded, staring at the guitar. Keeping her emotions in check and her face blank wasn’t going to be easy, but it was necessary. Jace might not understand the sort of fallout a simple look could trigger, but she did. Since she’d already unintentionally opened the door to speculation about their relationship…well, chances were he was about to find out how one picture, one look, could change everything.
“Hold on,” the photographer said, stepping back to review the proofs on screen.
“Are you breathing?” Jace whispered.
She glanced at him, searching his brown eyes for any telltale cause for alarm. The problem was, everything about Jace Black was alarming. Her reaction to him was visceral. One look from him had her insides melting. Like now. Right here, with cameras at the ready.