Triple Dare

“Bilbo, obviously.” Ivy stopped tinkering with the light long enough to shoot him a pleading look over her shoulder.

“No, thanks. I’m more of a dog person. Couldn’t the shelter have set me up with a rottweiler? Or even a shih tzu?”

“Nothing sells calendars like a big, strong guy cuddling a cute, little kitten.” She finished with the last light and walked back to the tripod. “Besides, the chief got the rottweiler. And they didn’t have a shih tzu.”

“So you think I’m big and strong?” He couldn’t resist teasing her and flexed his biceps.

“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “You’ve got the entire female population of Stockton to stroke your ego. You don’t need me.”

He corralled Bilbo, who had climbed over his shoulder and perched on the back of his neck. “You mean Maude at the diner, who celebrated her eighty-fifth birthday last week? Or the librarian, Mrs. Frazier? She can whistle ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ through her dentures.”

“Gabe says you’re dating the new checkout girl at Gibson’s Grocery with the amazing—”

“Smile?” He waggled an eyebrow. “Hair? Ability to add four-digit numbers in her head?”

“Yeah, right.” She crossed to a table against the far wall. “Put Bilbo down for a second. And stand with your feet apart, arms out.”

He lowered the kitten to the floor and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Why would I do that?”

She turned, a translucent spray bottle filled with colorless liquid in her hand, and sauntered toward him, looking like a lioness bearing down on her prey. Was that some kind of oil? She wasn’t going to...

“Duh. Why else? So I can wet you down. Now shut up and spread ’em.”

Damn.

* * *

IVY NELSON TRIED to maintain an air of cool, disinterested professionalism as she strode forward, holding the spray bottle of water and glycerin in front of her like a deadly weapon. But it wasn’t easy. Cade Hardesty in all his nearly naked glory was even hotter than she’d imagined. And she’d done a heck of a lot of imagining.

She slowed then stopped, her legs turned to wax. The hand with the bottle dropped to her side and she swallowed hard. With her free hand, she tugged on the hem of her shirt, suddenly aware of the wide expanse of fleshy, chalk-white skin showing above the waistband of her shorts.

Stop it. So what if you’re not a size two—or even an eight? You’re not Jabba the Mutt anymore.

She tightened her grip on the bottle, squeezing it so hard the plastic crinkled in her fist, and steeled her resolve. She’d photographed hundreds of models, male and female. Had her hands all over some of the best bodies in the business. Cade was no different.

Except he was. He was her first love, the boy she’d spent her youth doodling about in her notebook even though he’d never seen her as more than his best friend’s pesky twin sister, an easy mark for a dare and good for an occasional laugh.

“Are we going to do this or what?” The boy was a man now, the picture of masculine yumminess with his arms crossed over his broad, tanned chest, all hard lines and warm, firm muscle. Years of high school and college athletics followed by a career fighting fires had honed his body into sheer male perfection. Bulging biceps. Washboard abs. Powerful thighs and toned, trim calves. Hell, even his bare feet were sexy. And as for what the G-string was so not hiding...

The hairs rose on Ivy’s arms and the back of her neck.

Hell to the yes. We’re going to do this, all right.

“Earth to Ivy.” Cade brushed a lock of honey-blond hair from his forehead, revealing baby blues framed by impossibly long lashes, perfect for a woman, downright sinful on a man. “I’m freezing my ass off here.”

She craned her neck to risk a glance at his backside. Nope. His fine, firm ass was most definitely still there.

“I’ll turn down the AC.” Her false bravado back in place, she sashayed past him and raised the thermostat until she heard it click off.

Great. She was already burning up. Now she just might burst into flames.

Why did Hank have to hurt his back? And why had she agreed to fill in for him? She hadn’t even been home a week. She was supposed to be taking care of her dad after his heart attack, not ogling scantily clad firefighters. Especially ones she’d known since grade school.

Well, she’d be done after this shoot. Then she’d spend the rest of her time in Stockton working in her parents’ greenhouse and making sure her dad took his meds and followed a low-cholesterol diet. No time for lusting after her childhood BFF. And slim to no chance of running into him, or anyone else from the so-called glory days of high school. Days she’d just as soon forget.

“Better?” Ivy faced her subject, who had Bilbo in his arms again. The cat’s loud purrs echoed in the almost empty room as Cade rubbed slow circles on his belly.

Oh, yeah. They’d definitely saved the best for last.

“Sorry.” Cade gave her a sheepish grin and her heart flip-flopped. “The little guy was lonely.”

“Sure you don’t want to take him home?”

“No can do. Like I said, dog person.”

She eyed the kitten, sprawled belly-up across Cade’s folded arms, the picture of feline ecstasy with his head back and eyes closed. “Bilbo seems to disagree.”

“He’ll get snapped up in no time. Probably by some nice family with kids who’ll smother him with affection.”

Cade had a point. Puppies and kittens practically flew out of the shelter. It was the full-grown dogs and cats that had a hard time finding a home. She’d adopt one herself if she wasn’t on the road all the time. But Cade...

“How about an older pet? The shelter has lots of them, and they’re harder to place.”

“Maybe someday. Right now I’m too busy with work and...stuff.”

“Stuff like the checkout girl at Gibson’s?” She wanted to swallow the words as soon as they left her mouth. What right did she have to be jealous? Cade was single, barely thirty and way more than reasonably attractive. He could date anyone he wanted.

Too bad he didn’t want her. Oh, well. Qué será, será, lots more fish in the sea and all that crap.

“What is this, a photo shoot or the Spanish Inquisition?” His slow smile took any sting there might have been out of his words. “And I thought Gabe was the king of cross-examination.”

“Please.” She walked back to the tripod and patted her Nikon D3. “He may be an attorney, but I can expose as much through this lens as he can in court.”

“So how about we get started?” He nodded to the bottle still in her hand. “You gonna use that thing or not?”

She stepped back and studied him as impartially as she could, taking off her love-struck schoolgirl glasses and donning her seasoned, award-winning photographer hat. She bit her lip, nodding as she noted the way the light reflected off his well-developed pecs, the dusting of golden hair leading to his navel, the shadowy vee where his hips met his thighs.

“Not.” She set the bottle on the floor, plucked the camera off the tripod and pocketed the lens cap. Cade was a full-fledged, red-blooded, all-American male. Every woman’s dream. He didn’t need phony enhancements or photographer’s gimmicks to make him look good. This shoot called for something different. Something daring.

Something...real.

“Turn around.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Turn around. And put Bilbo on your shoulder.”

He faced the backdrop and draped the cat over his left shoulder. “Trying to get my best side?”