Erin Kern: Along Came Trouble

“After you’re done, you should stay for something to eat.” Now, why would you go and say that? Isn’t it bad enough you’ve been staring at her ass, now you have to come on to her? “You’re taking pictures for us. The least you could let me do is feed you.” Okay, that sounded much more reasonable; not like you’re trying to hit on her while she’s doing a job for you.

She gazed at him over her slender shoulder. “I’ll have a Caesar salad with grilled chicken.”

ELISA SCOOPED HER FORK BENEATH a piece of soggy lettuce and tried not to stare at the man sitting across from her. She wasn’t even hungry, but the fact that an attractive man asked her to stay for a meal had her agreeing. Well, he was more than attractive. He was downright otherworldly. During her modeling days, she’d been up close and personal with some of the most handsome men on the planet. Had any of them made her heart go all pitter patter and her mind conjure up images it shouldn’t have? That would be a negative.

Brody was what Elisa considered a double threat. Not only did he have devastating looks, but he had an engaging personality to go along with it. When the chef had dropped off her salad, Brody had eyed it like it had worms and said she should be adventurous and eat a burger. Then she said she’d been adventurous enough that morning with the cinnamon roll she’d eaten. The comment had earned her a wicked grin, causing a shallow dimple to appear in his left cheek.

Brody could do some major damage if a woman wasn’t paying attention. Fortunately for her, she had both her eyes wide open.

“So, why food?” he asked after taking a sip of his water.

She paused with the fork halfway to her mouth. “Because you asked me to stay for a meal.”

Another slow grin broke across his face. “Why photograph food?”

Before answering, she slid the fork in her mouth and tried not to wince at the amount of dressing weighing down the lettuce. “I started off photographing landscapes, which is my real passion. If I could, I’d be out there right now taking pictures of anything in nature. Then I realized the world does not need another generic landscape photographer. So I got into food. It’s more lucrative.”

“When you say you’d rather be out taking pictures of nature, what does that mean exactly?”

She pursed her lips and thought about her answer. “Spending time indoors and taking pictures of food was never my ultimate dream.” She gestured toward where she’d snapped pictures earlier. “I mean, I love being behind a camera no matter what, but…” She lifted her shoulders. “It’s just not what I imagined myself doing.”

“So, what happened? Why aren’t you out there taking pictures of sunsets, or whatever?”

His question made her grin. “When I first got into the field, I was. But landscape photography is extremely competitive. And although I loved what I was doing, I wasn’t making enough money. I needed to switch my focus to something more practical.”

Brody tilted his head to one side. “So, if you could you’d be out traveling the world with your camera?”

Was that disappointment she heard in his voice? And if so, why did that make her happy? “Absolutely. When I first got started I traveled the U.S. to build my portfolio. My ultimate dream is to photograph a collapsing ice shelf in Alaska or a migrating heard in Africa. If I could get my photos published in Time Magazine or National Geographic , I would die a happy woman.” She pushed her food around her plate before stabbing a piece of uncharred chicken with her fork.

He stared back at her with admiration coloring his spectacular eyes. “You sound like you’re a woman who knows what she wants.”

“I am.”

When he shifted in the booth, his leg brushed hers. The heat coming off him was palpable.

“If you’re half as good out in nature as you were in here, I’d say you could make a good career for yourself.”

His compliment warmed her in a way nothing had in a long time. Why did his approval mean so much to her? “Most people don’t realize how scientific and professional photography is. It can take hours to get one good shot.”

Brody glanced at the dining room, now put back together. “Yeah, I noticed that.”

The dry humor in his deep voice didn’t go unnoticed on her part.

As he took a sip of his water, his stormy-gray eyes burned into her over the rim of the glass. Something close to butterflies skittered around her stomach at the way he looked at her, as though his mind had conjured a naughty fantasy involving the two of them. Damn, she’d just met the man, and already he had her hormones in disarray.

And Elisa had never seen eyes quite that shade before. They couldn’t really be considered blue; they were too light. The penetrating gaze accompanied by hair as black as her own made for a knee-weakening effect she wasn’t used to, nor was she comfortable with. She’d only met the man a few hours ago, and she already felt like she wanted to come out of her skin.

With his eyes still on hers, he lowered the glass and wiped a bead of moisture off his lip.

His gaze ran over her face, then dropped down to her plate. “You’re not eating much of your salad. Is part of being a health freak not eating a whole meal?”

Elisa followed his attention to her meal. Let’s see, drenched lettuce, overcooked chicken, and questionable tomatoes? She’d done the salad more justice than it deserved, which was a shame considering the one she took a picture of had been damn near immaculate. This one looked like it’d been thrown together by a six-year-old.

“Well,” she started, not sure how to tell Brody the meal was subpar. “Would you like me to be honest?”

He lifted a hand off the back of the booth in a please-do gesture.

“The salad’s not that good. There’s way too much dressing and the chicken is overcooked. Quite frankly, it’s almost inedible.”

One of his large hands pressed against his chest. “Wow. Don’t tiptoe over my feelings or anything.”

She picked up her water glass. “You asked me to be honest. I didn’t think I’d be doing you any favors by lying.”

Something darkened those beautiful gray eyes. “Trust me, you wouldn’t be. Believe it or not, I appreciate the honesty.”

Elisa pulled in a breath and pursed her lips. “I didn’t want to say anything at first, but the food he brought out for the shoot looked amazing.” She picked up her fork and pushed at the lettuce. “Not at all like this.”

Brody drummed his fingers on the leather booth. “Travis has a bit of a problem with consistency. It’s something we’re working on.”

“I’ve photographed a lot of food over the past few years, and he definitely shows some promise. It might be an age thing. How old is he?”

“I think he’s a few years younger than me.” Brody ran a hand over the dark stubble on his chin. “Twenty-seven, twenty-eight maybe.”

So Brody was older than she was. He looked about her age, but she was twenty-eight so he had to be at least thirty or thirty-one. “He’ll get there,” she said. “Maybe he just needs some more experience.”

“Maybe,” Brody muttered while staring at a point over her shoulder. “I’m sorry about the meal. Every diner deserves top quality. Not…” He lifted a hand toward her dish. “That.”

She dropped her attention to the salad. “To be honest, I wasn’t that hungry.”

Her heart tattooed against her rib cage while his eyes continued to burn into hers. Oh yes, Brody could very well be dangerous to her and the quiet life she’d built for herself. Elisa wasn’t inexperienced or anything, but she generally stayed out of the dating scene. After her last disastrous relationship in college, she’d placed a nice little bubble around herself so as not to experience anything like that again. She had her quaint house big enough for just her and her photography. That was all she needed to be happy, thank you very much. The man sitting across from her had the potential to send all that to hell in a handbasket. It might be a fun ride down, but she’d been there and had no desire to go again.