Page 31 of Where We Call Home

“Oh, please!” I scoffed and shook my head. “I’m just going easy on you. I don’t want to come on too strong.”

I grabbed the best camera I had for this type of job and filled my carrying bag with everything I thought I might need. The worry from before washed away, and excitement flooded in. I was thrilled to get behind the camera again; I missed it. It’d been four months since I even uncapped the lens.

Who knows—maybe I’d like to do gigs like this. Learning was never-ending, and the more tools I added to my tool belt, the better my craft became.

Minutes later, I was outside, heading to Rhodes’ truck—a towering, lifted Chevy that screamed rugged masculinity. Rhodes stepped around to greet me, wearing a backward hat that made my ovaries scream.

“You’re gonna need some help getting in,” he teased, opening the passenger door. He held out his hand, and I gave him my stuff so he could put it in the back. “Do you care if I pick you up? It’d be easier.”

Before I could argue, he scooped me up like I weighed nothing. His earthy scent enveloped me, and my arm instinctively looped around his neck.

Rhodes placed me in the front seat and reached for the seatbelt. His arm brushed against my breasts, and I let out a raggedy breath. The air came out choppy as I tried to keep my composure. His touch set my nerves on fire, and the clothes on my skin felt like too much. I was brought back to my fun in the shower. It was no longer my imagination creating the sensations but the real thing.

“Precious cargo,” he said softly, buckling me in.

Our eyes locked, lingering a moment longer than usual. My stomach fluttered, and I couldn’t fight the growing tension between us. For once, I didn’t want to back away.

Eleven

Watching Theo in her element was fucking exhilarating. The moment we stepped into The Tequila Cowboy, she got straight to work. Without hesitation, she pulled out her camera, adjusting settings with practiced ease as she confidently directed people into position.

No one so much as blinked at the sight of a pregnant woman calling the shots, telling everyone where to stand and how to pose. At one point, she even quipped at Mac, “Would it kill you to at least pretend you’re having fun?”

For someone who had no background in events or marketing, Theo had adapted effortlessly.

She moved through the bar with purpose, testing angles and adjusting for the perfect lighting, her sharp gaze scanning for the ideal shot. The bar was shut down for a few hours to prep for tonight’s event. Lizzie had a videographer lined up to capture the action once the crowd rolled in.

Personally, I thought turning the bar into a production was overkill. Lizzie was determined to expand the bar’s reach, hoping to attract tourists and folks from nearby cities. The citizens of Faircloud wouldn’t be thrilled about that, though. I could already imagine the town hall meetings filled with bitching about how their quaint little town was being overrun by “city folk.” Honestly, I kind of agreed with them.

The Tequila Cowboy had been a low-profile staple in Faircloud for generations. That started to change when Mac’s sister, Lizzie, inherited it after their dad passed. The whole situation was a sore spot for Mac. Their dad had secretly updated his will, giving the business to Lizzie. Sure, Mac could be a bit reckless, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of running the place.

“Jesus, fuck,” Mac muttered, leaning his forearms on the bar, a cigarette dangling from his lips, holding on by hope and a prayer. “This shit is stupid. The bar’s doing fine. I know because I’ve been managing it for years. Lizzie doesn’t know a damn thing.”

I adjusted on my stool and took a sip of my drink. “I don’t get why your old man thought she’d run the place better than you.”

“Right?” Mac exclaimed, standing up to his full height. He jabbed the cigarette in the air for emphasis. “I busted my ass in this place while he sat around drinking and betting on red three landing in the corner pocket. Lizzie’s got a degree in communications. How’s that supposed to help her run a bar in Faircloud?”

Mac was tall and wiry, his arms inked with tattoos. His perpetually messy brown hair added to his signature grungy bartender vibe. He’d always been the family’s black sheep, while Lizzie could seemingly do no wrong. Sometimes, I counted my blessings that I didn’t have siblings to rival with like that.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I replied.

Across the room, Theo’s voice rang out. “Mac! Get your ass back over here, will you? I’m not done yet!” She stood with her hands on her hips, the camera dangling from her neck, exuding authority.

Mac shot me a look, cigarette now hanging from his fingers as he pointed it in my direction. “She means business,” he muttered, stubbing out the smoke in an ashtray before heading back to Theo.

I smirked and raised my drink in a mock toast. “Told you I knew someone who’d get the job done.”

When Mac mentioned his sister’s photographer had dropped out, Theo had been the first person I thought of. I’d made it my secret mission to keep her engaged. That day at Boone’s, I’d seen her retreating, and I couldn’t let her spiral. From the way Aspen talked about Theo, photography was her safe space—something she’d never say no to.

I understood what it was like to feel like an outsider, to watch everyone else move forward while you stood still. Knowing what I did about mental health, I knew she’d need support, whether she admitted it or not.

That’s why I’d downloaded Scrabble on my phone forher. It gave me a way to connect through something she enjoyed. Besides that, I liked toying with her. I’d taunt her over messages and edged her to keep going. After a close round, she would call and accuse me of letting her win. I’d turn an accusation into a conversation to spend a little more time getting to know her. That’d been my game over the last few weeks.

Sneaking a glance at Theo now, I smiled. She’d wrangled Mac and Dudley into posing with their backs to each other, each holding a bottle of tequila and pouring it into their mouths. The neon lights behind them cast sharp silhouettes. Wildlife photography might have been her specialty, but Theo had a natural, creative eye for everything she touched. She was an artist, through and through.

Theo pulled the camera away from her face and glanced at the screen, a smile spreading from ear to ear. If staying perched on this barstool meant I could see her smile like that, I’d gladly stay here all day.

She turned her head and caught me staring. The apples of her cheeks lifted as her joy was on full display. Something stirred in my stomach, and my heart thudded against my chest. A simple smile shouldn’t have this much power over me, but it did. I couldn’t look away.

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