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“Because they’re pictures of me,” he said. “I never like my pictures.”
She laughed as if that were ludicrous and he grinned, drawn in by the music of her voice. It was true, though. He didn’t like pictures of himself. He knew women found him attractive, but he wasn’t classically handsome. He’d filled in his tall lanky frame with muscles and covered his upper body in art, but that didn’t make up for his prominent brow and not-perfectly symmetrical features. He hadn’t been popular with the ladies until he’d excelled at basketball and ultimately gone professional.
“What I saw though my camera says you have nothing to be ashamed of.” She reached for the bottle of red wine and poured herself a drink.
“Oh, so you did like what you saw?”
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, the hint of a smile on her lips. “That’s just my professional opinion, you understand. Purely an academic observation.”
His answering chuckle eased him deeper into her spell. She was cool. Funny and lively in a way that immediately made him want to relax and get to know her better. “Okay, academic.” He took her free hand in his, pretended he didn’t feel the spark that came from her skin against his and turned her hand over. “Then why can I still see my number on your wrist?”
She sucked in a breath as if the spark had hit her, too, but shrugged easily. “I have no idea. You must have used some super permanent ink when you wrote it down.”
He’d used a regular pen. She hadn’t washed it away. Which meant she’d at least considered calling him. Which meant he had a chance. “You know, I think I did.” He rubbed his thumb over the soft skin where his number still resided.
Her body shivered and her eyes darkened. With hunger? Awareness? Maybe desire? He wasn’t sure which but hoped for all three. She slipped her arm back. “I’ll scrub it off later.”
“After you write my number down so you can call me.” He eased closer.
She smelled delicious. Sweet and decadent like fruit and chocolate. Was that perfume or just her? One way to find out was to hold her naked. Learn all her curves and cravings. Follow the trail across her neck and breasts to discover each and every hidden secret she had.
His heart beat an intoxicating rhythm in his chest. The anticipation coursing through him slowly rose as if he were about to go on an expedition, and Jasmine was the ultimate experience.
“Who says I’m going to call you?” There was no heat in her voice, just a trace of flirtation.
Kevin’s grin widened. Oh hell yes. He definitely had a shot. “Who says you aren’t?”
She sipped her wine, licking her lips after pulling the glass away, and hit him with a look that was both flirty and don’t-get-ahead-of-yourself. She was interested but maybe still weighing her options. Cool, he didn’t have a problem with a woman who took her time to make a decision. If she had standards he needed to meet, then he would do whatever he needed in order to meet them.
Rafael clapped and got everyone’s attention before Jasmine could reply. Reluctantly, Kevin gave him his attention, too.
“Okay, folks, you know what time it is?” Rafael asked.
A collective, half-hearted groan combined with muffled laughter in the room. Kevin looked at Jasmine, who rolled her eyes and chuckled. She said at the same time as him and everyone else in the room: “Game time.”
Rafael loved playing games when he got people together. “You got that right,” he said cheerfully. “We’ll start with Cards Against Humanity.”
Jasmine raised her wineglass in a salute. “I love that game.”
Kevin tapped his chest. “Me, too.”
“We’re such horrible people.” She bit her lower lip and they both laughed.
Damn, he really liked her. The game’s tagline did say it was the card game for terrible people. Mostly because some of the questions and answers in the cards were so outrageous he wouldn’t dare play it around his mother or grandmother.
They joined the rest of Rafael’s guests who agreed to play. Jasmine had a sense of humor that matched his own.
After the card game, Rafael decided they’d all play Two Truths and a Lie. Each person told three stories and the rest of the room had to guess which story was the lie. Learning that Jasmine had skinny-dipped in her gym back in high school only added to the wild mystery of her.
After the games concluded, the crowd was even more relaxed and talkative. He and Jasmine stuck together as they mingled with Rafael’s mixture of artistic friends. They eventually broke away into their own conversations about art, music and movies before ending up in a corner on the balcony.
“I still can’t believe you’ve never seen The Princess Bride,” Jasmine said, shaking her head as if he were an enigma.
“Why would I ever see that movie?” he asked, unable to control his humor at her audacity.
“Because it’s a freaking classic, that’s why.” She slapped his chest. The low light of the balcony played on the muscles in her arms as she moved. He had discovered a tattoo. A small heart on the front of her shoulder that occasionally peaked out from the strap of her tank top in her enthusiasm.
He slid closer to her and ran his hand over the smooth stone of the balcony railing until his fingertips brushed hers. “The Blues Brothers is a classic. A princess movie is not.”
“You’re such a guy,” she said with mock disgust. She brushed her bangs away. “You could learn a lot about romance by watching a princess movie.” She took a sip from a bottle of water. His gaze dropped to her neck. So sleek and sexy. Even her shoulders were hot. Everything about her had his body on edge.
He slipped his hand over hers. The air thickened with the heat vibrating between them. “I know plenty about romance.”
She sucked in a breath and licked her lips. “What did The Blues Brothers teach you about romance?”
He tilted his head to the side and leaned in close to her. “Right now, the only thing I can think of is having a mission from God.”
She rolled her eyes but continued smiling. “What mission is that?”
He didn’t know if she recognized the quote from the movie or not, but right now, he felt like heaven was telling him to kiss this woman. “To do this.”
He covered her mouth with his.
Chapter 3 (#uaaee1d1d-9f66-529d-a955-ac55901217d5)
His kiss was soft and gentle. But the power of his body was a constant vibration of energy beneath his skin. The promise of a passionate explosion simmered in the easy touch.
It was a player’s kiss. Sexy and teasing enough to make her want to lean in for more. The kind of kiss that brought fantasies of his lips caressing other parts of her body. He didn’t grope her or jerk her up against his body. Only his lips touched hers, and that made her yearn more than she had when she’d tried giving up coffee and potato chips cold turkey two years ago.
Then, as if he knew she was a second away from latching onto him the way she had the coffee and the bag of kettle-cooked salt and vinegar chips her sister brought to convince her to give up the madness, he eased back. Her eyelids were like weights as she slowly lifted them to meet his eyes.
The corner of his mouth was lifted cockily. His eyes held the intense focus of a hunter closing in on prey. Excitement and possession swirled in their depths. If she let herself, she’d agree to the affair he offered with just a look.
Except she had goals. Professional and personal ones. Her own exhibit. No relationship drama. No more getting caught up in the lies of a promised forever.
“What are you thinking about?” His voice was silky and mellow. Her thighs clenched with need.
Your exhibit. Remember your exhibit.
“Cabins,” she said.
He blinked several times. “Cabins?” He ran a hand over his lower lip. “Why are you thinking about cabins?”
Probably not the best lead-in after a fantastic kiss, but he needed to be brought down a notch or two. Kevin had thrown out the bait with that sexy-as-hell-but-not-quite-enough kiss, and she’d bitten. She could tell he was ready to lure her in, and oh, she wanted to be lured. Really, really wanted to be, but her life was about goals, not getting off.
“My next project. I want to document cabins.”
Kevin’s brow cocked. He still smiled but there was a definite dimming of the spark in his eye.
“I’m trying to focus on my next project,” she said. “You would distract me from that.”
“Ahh, now I get it.” He took half a step back. Just out of her reach. She ran her hands over her pant legs to stop herself from reaching out.
He leaned an elbow on the balcony. Nailed her with his full attention. “Tell me about your project.”
He couldn’t be serious? Could he? She hadn’t said that to make him run, but she hadn’t expected him to ask for more information. “Why?”
“Obviously, your project is important enough to distract you from what I thought was a damn good kiss.” He raised a brow in question.
She nodded, willing to concede to the truth. “The kiss was very good.”
“Yet you thought of cabins. I want to know about the project.”
“Seriously?” She’d expected some sly comment about him not being a distraction, or that they could just have a little fun before she moved on. Instead he’d asked for more information. Kevin was making it hard for her to not leave New York with a bang.
He waved a hand for her to continue. “Seriously. I’d like to get to know you.”
Jasmine eyed him and tried to tell if he was full of crap. He watched her expectantly. Eyes focused. The seductive up-tilt of his mouth was still there. Still tempting.
Fine. If he wanted to know, she’d tell him. If he thought her idea was dumb, then she’d save a lot of time trying to figure out if he was worth her serious consideration and move on quickly. If he liked the idea...maybe leaving New York with a bang, literally, wasn’t such a bad idea.
She took a deep breath. When she’d announced her plans to a few people in the fashion industry, they’d looked at her as if she’d announced she was packing up and moving to Alaska to become a pioneer woman. Maybe she was taking a drastic step, but she wanted to do something worthwhile. She didn’t care what they thought, but the idea of Kevin looking at her like that? Well, that made her stomach churn a little.
“Okay, so I was visiting relatives in Georgia last year,” she said in a rush before changing her mind. “When I was there, my uncle had a bonfire out in the field next to the house. They used to grow corn there I think, but anyway, there was this old cabin along the edge of the field. When I asked, he said it was the first house his great-great-grandfather built during the Reconstruction. He’d purchased the small bit of land, farmed it, fought the Klan on it and ultimately survived.”
“Damn. That’s cool as hell.” Excitement and interest infused Kevin’s voice.
“I know, right?” Her own excitement was piqued by his. She’d been thrilled to learn more about her mother’s family. She’d lost her mom when she was so young. Her dad remarried and she’d rarely spent time with her mother’s family. After her father later divorced and her stepmother completely disappeared out of her life, Jasmine had reached out to her mother’s family.
“So I took pictures of the place. Started a scrapbook with the family history I got from my uncle. I sent a copy to him. Then the rest of my family asked for copies. It gave me an idea to capture more old cabins and homes owned by black people. Capture where they lived and highlight their history with what I can track down. Kinda chronicling the everyday life of the regular people trying to make their way in a world that didn’t want them to find a way.”
“That’s what’s up.” Kevin nodded and sounded impressed. “Where are you starting?”
His response fueled her excitement even more. She’d gotten such a lackluster response from some of her colleagues. Kevin got what she was trying to do. That meant others had to get it, too.
“I’m going back to Georgia. I’ve been in contact with a historian who’s working to save slave cabins. I’m setting up a meeting with him to get an idea of where to go next.”
“What will you do after you finish?” All of the flirtation was gone, replaced by a genuine interest in her project.
“I have an agreement with Jordan and Jones to publish my findings.” That was the first time she’d said that out loud. Her disbelief at the leeway the publishing house was giving her seeped into her voice. “Angelero Gallery gave me the okay to exhibit my pictures once I’m done to build up interest before the book’s release date.”
“Wow. You’ve got everything lined up.”
She did, yet nerves still turned her stomach into a jumbled mess. She had the book deal because of her borrowed status photographing celebrities. The agreement from the gallery was for the same reasons—that and she was friends with the owner. That didn’t mean people would like the photos or get what she was trying to convey.
She kept having a recurring nightmare of people only seeing old, dilapidated houses instead of the stories of the people who lived there. What those families overcame. She’d be laughed out of the gallery and her book would flop harder than a deflated basketball.
“I’m excited about the project,” she said brightly, instead of letting him hear her insecurities.
“It’s cool you have a plan and know what you want. Seriously, not everyone has that.”
Something in his voice made her think he didn’t refer to people in general, but instead to himself. “What are you doing during the off-season? Do you relax or are you itching for the new season to start?”
He looked down at his hands and stretched them out. A frown pulled on his lips. “Actually, I’m trying to figure out my next steps.”
Next steps? From the little she knew of basketball, he was still considered an elite player in the league. “What do you mean?”
“Retirement or not.” He looked up at her.
“Retirement? You can’t be serious. You just won a championship. You’re the cover model for the Sports Fitness ‘Bodies in Motion’ issue. That only goes to top athletes. Why would you retire?” Okay, so maybe she’d researched him a little after today’s shoot.
“I’m thirty-six. Might as well go out while I’m still on top.” He shrugged as if the answer was an obvious one.
Except the look in his eye didn’t match his voice. His tone reminded her of someone forcing themselves to make a decision they were still unsure about. “What will you do if you retire?”
He shrugged. “That’s the thing. I’ve got a few business interests. I could explore more of those options. It’s just...”
“They’re not basketball.”
He studied his hands again. “Basketball has been my life since I was eighteen. I was drafted right in the middle of my first year of college and I haven’t thought about doing anything else since. Could I really be happy in a suit, sitting behind a desk at a corporation?”
She couldn’t see him in corporate America. Not because of the tattoos or pierced ears; the art could be hidden beneath business suits and the earrings could come out. She couldn’t see it because Kevin had this layer of wildness and excitement about him. No matter the environment, that dangerous air and flair to live outside the boundaries expected of him would always show.
But stranger things had happened. She didn’t really know him and was basing her decision on his outgoing personality and the few reports of his off-court antics she’d read. The guy took his teammates skydiving to celebrate their first playoff win.
But he was thirty-six and successful. Her quick internet search hadn’t brought up rumors of him spending money frivolously or filing for bankruptcy, a situation that plagued some celebrities who achieved superstardom as young as he had. He could get excited about one of his businesses and really thrive.
“You won’t know until you try,” she encouraged. “If you’re ready to retire, don’t let the idea that you’re only good at basketball stop you. I’m sure you’re good at other things.”
“How do you know?” he asked with a sexy tilt of his full lips that made her ease closer.
“Your eyes are intelligent.” She met that dark gaze. His eyes were brown, bold and very cocky, but he wasn’t a dumb jock. He watched, listened and observed. All signs of intelligence.
His gaze became guarded. His brows drew together. She must have surprised him. “No one’s ever told me that.”
“I’m glad to be the first.”
Kevin closed the distance between them. His large hand clasped her waist. The possessiveness came back to his gaze. Jasmine’s pulse accelerated and she swallowed hard. He pulled her close until the tips of her breasts brushed his hard chest. A shiver went down her spine. Not from fear but anticipation. Heat roared through her like wildfire.
“I want to kiss you again.”
She wanted to kiss him again. When she didn’t protest, his head lowered. Jasmine’s lashes lowered, too. Expectation wound up and tightened her nerves like a coiled spring. Thoughts of cabins and next steps in life blew away with the soft breeze.
Ringing filled the air. Something at Kevin’s hip vibrated.
He pulled back. “My bad. That’s my cell.” He pulled out his phone and checked the screen. “My daughter. Let me take this.”
Jasmine nodded and stepped back. She tried to steady her breathing as he leaned against the concrete balcony railing and answered the call.
