Page 45 of Infinite

“That’ll work,” I add, ignoring the glower she pegs me with.

“I don’t think you should disturb her,” Becca interrupts. She sounds testy, despite her evidently deep concern for supermodel Suzi’s well-being. “Poor thing is recovering. Like you said.”

“Nonsense, dear,” Tootles says. “Suzi loves me. Besides, once she gets a look at Hale, she’ll be more than happy to take your place in bed with him—”

Like a ninja, Becca snatches the phone from Tootles’ hand.

“I’ll do it,” Becca says, a little faster than even she expected. She clears her throat. “Let’s not bother Suzi. She, um . . .wemight need your connections for something else during the campaign. Let’s not exhaust them this early.”

It’s then I know that God truly exists. Becca looks at me. “I’ll get naked with Hale.”

Chapter Ten

Becca

The crew Tootles brings on is small and among the best. Not just because of their skills, but because of their ability to be discreet. Their contract for this shoot, like most they’re solicited for, includes their silence. They’re kept from discussing any details about the shoots and are required to leave before the photography begins. Still, I’m not taking any chances. I made sure they signed NDAs ahead of time.

In addition to being a creative consultant, Tootles is a gifted photographer. He’s taught me all I know about taking the perfect shot, and what I’ll need to conduct the more intimate interviews with Hale. But for Vogue, Forbes—all the big names—I need better than me. I need Tootles.

Hale’s laughter booms from the bedroom, overpowering Tootles’ softer chuckle. Hale managed to charm Tootles with his kindness. I knew he would. Hale can recognize someone who’s had it rough, especially those who soared to success regardless of it.

Right now, I’m not loving their buddingfriendship. It works against me, instead of for me. I’m in a robe and nothing else for the love of all. How do I get myself in these dilemmas?

The manicurist buffs my nails with expertise. I was wearing pink and was hoping for something similar. Tootles has other plans. “No,” he says, hurrying in. “No color. French or nothing at all.”

“Nothing at all,” Hale echoes, leaning against the frame and crossing his arms. The dogs skip in behind him and spread out on the floor. After a few shots on the beach, a few more in front of the fireplace, he’s won them over, too. Bastard.

The team worked on Hale long before they ever thought to touch me. He wasn’t thrilled about receiving a new hairstyle and complained more than once. He’s not complaining now, giving his hair another pass with his hand.

The stylist trimmed the sides and mussed the top, leaving the impression of a good night with very little sleep for all the right reasons. I never pictured Hale like this. Never mind, I have. I’ve always loved how he looks. Even at his most angry, I enjoy everything that makes him Hale.

All those mushy thoughts aside, I love his hair. It amps up his sex appeal and makes him look more hero than heartbreak. Whatever the team did to his scruff managed to add another helping of sexy and brightened his smile.

Like me, Hale is in a robe. My guess is, there’s nothing beneath the cotton material. I try not to give it too much thought. Those thoughts eagerly appear when I’m around him and now even when I’m not, reminding me I’m no longer in control of my raging and lonely womanly parts.

Hale looks at Tootles, but that smug grin that casts a shimmer across his mesmerizing irises is all for me. “What do you think about a shot of Becca’s short nails dragging down my back?”

“Oh,” Tootles says over my very audible gasp. “That could be sexy.”

“I think you’re looking way too much into this vision,” I say, my face heating.

Tootles disagrees, of course. “No. I like where he’s going with this. Infinite, your title suggestion, not mine—”

“Which you love,” I remind him.

“Agreed,” he says. “It suggests all those long-term successes we want for Hale, including love.”

“Love?” I stammer.

This time when I turn back to Hale, all evidence of mischief is gone. Only tension remains between us, accelerating with every stunned blink of my eyes.

“What’s wrong, Becca?” he murmurs. “Don’t you want me to find love?”

With a heavy breath, my attention falls to my lap. “Of course, I do,” I say, wishing I didn’t sound so sad.

Tootles’ tone softens. It’s not sympathy or understanding he feels for me. This is all about this shoot and how enraptured he’s become with it. “Infinite,” he says, repeating the word. “A long-term love affair with the one woman Hale will share his bed with, forever.”

God, if you’re listening, help me. I’m in trouble, serious trouble.

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