Triple Dare

“Something like that.” She hit the power button on the Nikon and peered through the lens. “Good. Now look at Bilbo.”

Cade turned his head and stared awkwardly at the cat.

“Relax.” Ivy lowered the camera. “Pet him. Talk to him.”

He scratched the cat between the ears. “What do you want me to say?”

“Anything.” She brought the camera back up to her face, determined to focus on the interaction between man and beast and not Cade’s buns of steel in that obscene thong. “Tell him how cute he is. Regale him with the details of your latest conquest. Recite Green Eggs and Ham. Just have fun with it.”

“Did you hear that, little guy?” He stroked down the cat’s back, pulling lightly on his tail. “We’re supposed to be having fun.”

Bilbo’s loud purrs increased, and his pink tongue stole out to lick Cade’s sexily stubbled chin. Cade threw back his head and laughed, flashing a million-watt smile that transformed his already handsome face into a thing of beauty.

“Oh, my God, that’s perfect.” Ivy snapped away as she moved around him, trying to capture every possible angle. “Don’t stop. That look will have these calendars sailing off the shelves.”

For the next hour, she posed him. Standing. Sitting. Reclining on a dusty settee they dragged out of the office and brushed off. Of course, that meant she had to feel that hot, hard flesh scorching her palm every time she adjusted an arm or repositioned a leg.

All in a day’s work.

Right. Then why hadn’t any of the professionals she’d photographed over the years—men as muscular and manly as Cade—made her heart flutter, her breath catch and her fingers tingle with the need to do more than touch?

Fortunately—or unfortunately—she’d had to do less and less touching as the shoot went on and Cade loosened up. He was a natural, better than some of the models she’d worked with. And Bilbo was a regular feline ham, mugging it up like he was born to be in front of the camera.

They were quite the pair. Women would go gaga over them.

Over him.

Ivy snapped the lens cap on the camera with more force than necessary, trying to ignore the ugly pang of resentment that started in her stomach and yanked at her heart.

“Okay.” She returned the camera to the tripod and reached for the cat. “I think we’ve got what we need. And Bilbo has to get back to the shelter before closing time.”

“I can bring him.” Cade stood, his hold tightening on the wriggling kitten. “It’s on my way.”

“Your way to what?” She swiped a stray, sweat-dampened hair off her cheek and went to lower the thermostat. “The firehouse is in the opposite direction.”

“I’m not on duty tonight. I’ve got a date.”

“Your Gibson’s girl with the banging...math skills?”

He whipped off the Santa hat and pressed it to his chest in mock horror. “A gentleman never kisses and tells.”

“Since when are you a gentleman?” She took the cat from him and pushed him toward the changing screen in the corner. “Go get dressed. I’ll put Bilbo in his carrier so you can drop him off and be on time for your hot date.”

And she could get back to her dad and the nursery and quit fantasizing about God’s gift to womankind.

As if.

2 (#ud6445082-345e-5b1a-8f68-e339e5a1043a)

“SHE’S BEAUTIFUL, HOLS.” Ivy looked down at her infant niece and brushed a knuckle over one alabaster cheek. “A perfect little angel.”

“Sure, now that she’s sleeping.” Holly sank into the Adirondack chair next to Ivy’s, stretched out her legs and ran her toes through the grass. “How is it I rock her for hours without success yet you hold her for two seconds and she’s out like a light?”

Ivy frowned at the dark circles under her sister’s eyes. Anyone else in Holly’s position—Broadway playwright, married to a movie star—would have hired someone to plan her daughter’s christening. Turned it into a media event. But not Holly. She’d insisted on doing everything herself and keeping it small, just family and a few close friends.

“Auntie’s magic touch, I guess.” Ivy tucked the lemon-yellow fleece blanket under her niece’s tiny chin. It might be spring, but evenings were cool in Connecticut, even with a blaze roaring in the fire pit.

“Too bad you’re not around more. I could use a bit of that magic every now and then.”

Holly’s husband, Nick, came up behind her and dropped a kiss on her upturned forehead. “How’s that for magic?”

“It’s a start.” Holly pulled him back down to her and kissed him soundly.

Ivy’s heartstrings tugged as she watched them, immersed in each other, clearly ass-over-teakettle in love. Not that she begrudged Holly her happiness. Her sister deserved it after everything her sleazeball ex-husband put her through. But part of Ivy—the part that wondered how much longer she could go on globe-trotting—couldn’t help wanting a little of that happiness for herself.

She hid her melancholy with a lukewarm chuckle. “Would you two get a room already?”

Nick came up for air and waved an arm at the rambling clapboard house across the lawn. “We’ve got ten of them. We just have to get rid of our guests.”

“How about we get Joy in her crib first? She’s had a long day, and it’s awfully chilly out here.”

Holly started to stand but Nick stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Relax. I’ve got her. You’ve done enough today.”

“I still can’t believe you kept Dad’s name thing going,” Ivy said, shaking her head at her sister. Their father loved Christmas and had played Santa in the local holiday parade for as long as anyone could remember. He’d given his children names reminiscent of the season: Holly, Ivy, Gabriel and Noelle. It had been a constant source of embarrassment as kids. And now Holly and Nick had followed suit with Joy.

“Did we really have a choice?” Holly exchanged a knowing look with her husband. “I mean, I married a guy with the same name as St. Nicholas.”

“And Joy was born on Christmas Eve.” Nick took the sleeping baby from Ivy’s arms. Joy stirred briefly, then settled into her father’s embrace.

“Why not Eve, then?”

“Too obvious. We were going for something more subtle.” Holly swiveled her head to watch Nick as he strode up the lawn toward the house. “Send Devin down,” she called after him. “And tell her to bring the stuff for the s’mores. It’s on the counter next to the stove.”

“Sure thing.” He disappeared into the increasing darkness.

“Too bad Noelle couldn’t stay for dessert.” Ivy stared across the grass to the dock jutting out over Leffert’s Pond. A rowboat bobbed at the end, partially obscuring the moon’s reflection in the calm, glasslike water. For the second time in as many minutes, she felt a twinge of envy toward her sister. Great guy. Great kid. Great house.

“I know,” Holly agreed. “She had to get back to the city for an early rehearsal tomorrow.”

“Mom finally get Dad out the door?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised he held out as long as he did. We offered to postpone the christening, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Stubborn Swede.” Holly gave a halfhearted shrug and tipped her head skyward.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Cade should be here any minute.”

Ivy barely stopped herself from bolting upright. She hadn’t seen Cade since he’d walked out of her studio two weeks ago. She continued to gaze out at the lake, her face an impassive mask. She hoped. “I thought you said he was on call.”

“Only until seven o’clock. That’s why he missed the ceremony. But he promised to stop by when he got off.”