Page 25 of Bear In A Boutique
No, that wasn’t the response he wanted. She was still pushing him away, not trusting him.
“Olive—” He cupped the side of her face with his hand. She turned her head away, cheeks pink, eyes diverted.
“Let’s forget about it, ok?”
Three seconds of charged silence passed. He counted them, growing tenser with eachtick, tick, tick. Her fingers ran over the back of his hand as she skirted past him on the stairs and looked at him over her shoulder. “Ready to settle the bet?”
Just like that, she shed her sadness and despair and acted like she had forgotten all about it.
He didn’t like it, but he’d follow her lead. “What’s my punishment?”
Collecting the coffee cup from her desk, she took a long drink before throwing it in the trash. “It’s not a punishment. I promise.”
He’d thought way too hard about what she might have in store for him, and every single guess ended the same way—with her clothes hitting the floor.
She moved to a glass case behind the counter. A camera and various lenses sat on top. Unlocking the case, she retrieved a long, narrow cardboard box and set it on top. Lifting the lid, she retrieved a stack of leather bracelets and splayed them on the counter. They looked rugged and purposefully worn, with copper, hand-stamped rivets along the center. Some sported beads and braided leather with buckle clasps.
"Congratulations. You’ve been chosen for my modeling project. Let me see your wrist.”
Eyeing her suspiciously, he moved his hands behind his back.
“Oh, come on, Ryker. Let me see your wrist.”
She looked much too pleased with herself as she plucked a bracelet from the group and turned it over in her slim fingers. “Cara designed this men’s line to represent the rustic beauty of Estes Park. Who better to model them than a local?”
“How exactly do I have to model these?”
The twinkle in her eye concerned him. “I’ll show you. Follow my lead.”
Olive brushed her hair back and straightened her shoulders. “Put your left hand on your hip like this so the bracelet is visible. Then turn your upper body slightly and thrust your other hip out, like this. You have to curve your lower back. Don’t be afraid to stick your butt out a little.”
She had to be kidding.
“I’m not doing that.”
Her eyebrows arched and he knew he wasn’t getting out of it. Holding back a growl, he put his hand on his left hip and tried to point his other hip forward. His hips rocked back and forth, then side to side. This was fucking ridiculous.
Olive took his hips in her hands and angled him the right way. If he wasn’t so mortified about the pose, he would have completely focused on her hands on him.
“That’s it.” Grabbing her camera, she motioned for him to put his hand behind his head. “That’s right, put your hand behind your head and look over your shoulder at me. Now, pout.”
“Pout?”
“Come on, stick that lower lip out the way you do every time you lose a bet. Work it, baby. You’re fabulous!”
“I don’t pout.”
What the hell was he doing? One arm up, the other behind his head, butt sticking out while he looked at her over his shoulder. He was never, ever making a bet with this woman again.
“You’re centerfold material!”
She snapped some photos before lowering the camera… and busted up laughing.
Ryker ran a hand over his chin. “Very funny. Erase those.”
“I didn’t take any. I swear. You should have seen yourself!”
“Olive, if the guys at the firehouse see those I’ll never live it down.”
