Tangled Truth(29)
“Am I distracting you?” he asked with a grin that was only slightly wicked and suggestive.
“Always.” But she didn’t sound particularly upset about that.
“Are you nervous?”
“Not so much since my dad said he probably wouldn’t be able to make it.” Her smile was rueful. “Don’t tell Danny and Sheila, they’d roll their eyes so hard about this, but I never even worked up the nerve to tell him about my part in the photo shoot. I figured I would find time, but when is the right time to tell your dad you’ve posed for naked bondage pictures?”
She stretched like a cat, the crocheted shawl she wore slipped off her shoulders, and Drew briefly lost his ability to think as he stared at the lean lines of her body, highlighted beautifully by the soft, snug fabric of her dress. The front molded to her skin, so form-fitting it didn’t need a low neckline to be daring. The back was better still, he saw as she bent to pick up the shawl. A simple network of spaghetti straps crisscrossed from neck to waist. They seemed to hold the whole thing together like magic.
“Fire engine red,” he said with obvious appreciation. “That has got to be the best dress I have ever seen. I’ve never seen you wear anything like that.”
“It’s carnelian,” Eva corrected him, “and thank you. I may have to put my coat back on until it warms up in here though.”
“Please don’t.”
“I was feeling a little more daring in the store than I am at the moment, actually. I don’t want to look skanky.”
With a considering frown, Drew stood and rounded the counter, taking Eva’s hands in his and holding them wide to reveal the dress again. He pondered her as seriously as if he weren’t just taking the opportunity to ogle her again. He thought about the fact that all the other men in the room would also be ogling her, for how could they do otherwise? But on balance, he decided he was all right with that if it meant he got to look at her in the dress all night then take her home and do deliciously naughty things to her with the dress pushed up around her waist.
“Not skanky at all. Very tasteful. Classy, but sexy as hell.”
She giggled as he stole the predictable kiss. Giggles turned to sighs as he lingered, letting his lips brush against hers, savoring her.
“Get a room, you guys,” Danny said from the back of the room. He had come through the service entrance, and now joined them at the desk. He had apparently conned the bartender out of some wine, because he set a plastic glass down next to Eva before sipping at his own.
“We’re in a room. A room with nice, sturdy exposed rafters too. Great for suspensions…” Drew cocked his head, scanning the high ceiling as though scouting for the best location to mount a pulley.
“Enough!” Eva was laughing with the guys, but with a nervous edge. “I’m anxious enough about the picture. Stop talking about that stuff, you’ll make it worse.” She swigged some wine and tried to look stern, which Drew found adorable.
“Actually,” Danny said, “I came over here to say a toast to your bravery. I really can’t thank you enough, Evie. That photo will be the making of the show.”
He raised his glass and she tapped hers against it, just as the caterers arrived.
Drew sneaked in one last hug for reassurance before Eva started up her usual whirlwind of organizing, greeting and mingling. He gave her an unmistakably possessive boyfriend kiss, and was unable to resist slipping one hand under the shawl to stroke the expanse of exposed skin at her waist.
“You’ll be fine.”
And she was.
Right up until her cell phone rang again an hour later, and her eyes found Drew’s over a tight knot of revelers who were all exclaiming over the very picture in question. She had to mouth it twice before he could make out the words. “My dad is coming.”
* * * * *
Bob Godfrey was of average height and average build, with thinning hair of pure white that was obviously once as blond as Eva’s, a slight gut, and a dark suit with a red paisley tie. In short, he looked wholly unremarkable. But when he walked across the room to greet his daughter, Drew could feel her react as though all the air had been sucked from the room. Her slender hand froze on his upper arm, gripping almost hard enough to hurt, and her tension telegraphed itself so clearly that he had an urge to step between her and the encroaching danger.
But there was no monster, no horror, only a middle-aged man with a genial handshake. He greeted Drew with the careful civility of any man who knows he’s meeting the guy his grown daughter is most likely having sex with. The slightly too firm, lingering grip with its implicit promise to crush Drew like a bug if his little girl came to any harm. Nothing out of the ordinary.