Melt For Him(37)
“But what if I were?” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. “What if I had fallen off the counter and hit my head on the cupboard door?”
“Then I’d have caught you in seconds,” he said, letting go of her hand. “And wrapped an arm around your shoulder,” he added, demonstrating. “Then this.” He scooped her up in his arms, carrying her as he walked across the kitchen.
“Show-off!” she said, and pounded her fists playfully against his chest.
“What? You thought I couldn’t lift you?”
“I knew you could. I just didn’t expect you to.”
“Ah, so I surprised you.”
“Yes. You did.”
“Good. Because I suspect that’s not easy to do,” he said as he set her down in the living room.
“You’re strong,” she said.
“I’m supposed to be. Comes with the job.”
“I know. I’m just not used to being carried. Travis was always trying to toss me on his shoulder and carry me just because he could, but I didn’t let him.”
“But you let me.”
“You’re more fun to be carried by,” she said, her brown eyes sparkling. Fun. He didn’t think anyone had called him fun in a long, long time. Hearing it from Megan tugged at his heart. “Besides, when he tried to carry me I just ran away from him,” she said softly. The implication was thick in the air that she hadn’t run from him.
“Because you’re Miss Independent.”
“Am I?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.
“As far as I can tell.”
“Does that make you crazy?”
“Nearly everything about you does,” he said, his lips quirking up. “Now, you want to get some shoes on and I’ll clean the kitchen for you?”
Her eyes lit up as if he’d won a teddy bear for her at the fair. But maybe cleaning up the kitchen was her version of a teddy bear.
“Thank you. I’ll be right back.”
He returned to the kitchen, washed the breakfast dishes, tucked the cereal box onto its shelf, then met Megan at the door. She wore black combat boots with her short skirt, and even though he found himself missing that toe ring, she was even hotter with bare legs and badass boots.
“You have everything? Bunker pants, suspenders, boots, helmet?” she asked.
“Back of the truck. Like you asked. And you? What’s in that tackle box?” Becker said, tipping his forehead to the black metal container she carried that looked suspiciously as if it might be home to fishing lures. “Don’t get me all excited and tell me we’re really going fishing.”
When they reached his truck and he opened the passenger door to let her in, she flashed him a devious grin, then said, “Makeup. Makeup and body paint.”
That was all he could think about on the drive to the river.
Body paint, and all its possible meanings.
He wanted to paint her body red. Paint it black. Paint it with his hands. Paint it with his tongue. He gripped the wheel hard, forcing himself to focus on the road as he drove.
But once they reached their destination, he had to admit he was damn curious what she intended to do to him with the body paint.
Chapter Thirteen
“I thought you were going for a more natural look and feel to the calendar. Now what? Are you going to paint a fire on my chest?” Becker asked after they reached the bend in the river that Megan had declared the perfect photographic backdrop. The spot was secluded, hugged by overhanging willow branches that formed a canopy over the water. They were in a narrow valley, surrounded only by the gurgling river, the chirping of birds, and the misty fog that rolled through on its way out as the sun rose overhead.
“It won’t be tacky, I promise,” she said. “Now sit.”
She pointed to a large rock near the river, close to the one they’d perched on yesterday. Becker followed her orders. She opened the black metal box, pursed her lips, and scanned the jars of makeup and tubes of body paint.
Becker tapped his cheek. “How about a tiger? You know, like you’re face-painting at a fair.”
She grabbed a brush and brandished it like a weapon, wagging it at him. “You better watch it, or I’ll give you a butterfly or a ladybug,” she said with narrowed eyes.
He held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
“You do that.”
She selected a tube of charcoal gray paint, a slate-colored one, then midnight black. “Besides, this’ll be easy. I once did a shoot in L.A. for this antifur ad campaign. I worked with another artist to paint the models to look like animals. Took a few hours. This will only be a few minutes.”