Page 4 of The Trouble with Sexy (Rock Canyon, Idaho 0.50)

She’d driven home from the party and ended up exactly where she’d been trying to avoid—on the couch, in I love Sushi pajamas, with handfuls of Fritos shoved into her open mouth.

The bell on the studio door jingled, drawing her back to the present, and Ryan took a steadying breath.

Stop dwelling on it. He’s your boss and your friend. That’s it. Get over it.

“THAT’S GREAT, YOU guys. Now Mr. Andrews, why don’t you put your arm around her and give her a kiss?”

Jim Andrews gave his wife a lecherous grin and said, “Come here and give me some sugar.”

Marcie Andrews turned her cheek up for his lips and Jim kissed it with a chuckle. Gregg snapped the smiling Marcie and looked down at his camera. “Okay, so I have about a hundred pictures. Why don’t you come by tomorrow afternoon around two and I’ll show you the top thirty? You can choose your prints then.”

“But we’re getting a CD right? Can’t we just print the ones we want?” Mrs. Andrews asked, her head cocked to the side innocently.

Gregg wanted to growl at her in frustration. He’d told Mrs. Andrews when she made the appointment that it was $125 for him to come out for an hour and snap around a hundred photos. The package she’d picked included twenty prints and the CD. The prints were included, so even if she didn’t want them, it didn’t lower the price.

“Like I explained on the phone Mrs. Andrews, the prints are free with the package you chose. If you chose not to take them, that’s up to you.” He tried to stay friendly even though she made him crazy. He knew his photo packages were reasonable compared to some photographers. Plus he normally threw in a little something extra like a framed eight-by-ten, but right now Mrs. Andrews wasn’t exactly on his favorite customer list.

Mr. Andrews gave his wife a stern look and she snapped whatever she was about to say back into her mouth with a pout. Mr. Andrews turned with a smile on his craggy face. “That’s fine, Gregg, we appreciate it. Thanks for coming out.”

Gregg smiled in return, liking the easygoing dairy farmer. “Thank you, Mr. Andrews. Mrs. Andrews, it was a pleasure. You folks have a nice day and I’ll see you love birds tomorrow.”

The older couple smiled at him as he gathered up his equipment and headed for his blue Chevy Tahoe. He waved good-bye again from the front seat and put the car in reverse, looking over his shoulder. He noticed the scrap of black in the backseat and cursed. He’d meant to give Ryan back the sweater she left in his car after the Wilder wedding, but he kept forgetting. It had nothing to do with the fact that the sweet smell of her perfume reminded him of the one kiss they’d shared at the Browns’ New Year’s Eve party.

Gregg constantly tried to talk himself out of his feelings, but every time he was with her, he couldn’t help liking her. Even when he’d gone on his one and only date with Gracie McAllister, he’d spent most of the evening comparing Gracie’s boisterous personality and raw sexuality to Ryan’s snarky comebacks and quiet appeal. It had only stung his pride that Gracie

had never returned his phone call. He’d just called to tell her he had a nice time, but from what he’d heard around, that was usual with her. It was just more fun for him to tease Ryan about Gracie, since the pretty barrista seemed to annoy Ryan, and Ryan was awfully cute when she was annoyed.

Suggesting that they spend Valentine’s Day together had been a spur of the moment thing, but he was surprised when she’d said no. He always had fun with Ryan and considered her a good friend. He’d figured she felt that way too. Had she lied about having plans? Was she seeing someone and just hadn’t wanted to share it with him? A little niggle of something unpleasant churned in his abdomen, something that felt a bit like jealousy, and he tried to shake it off. Ryan wasn’t a liar, and she had no reason to lie about her plans. Maybe she just wanted to be alone.

He pulled out onto Oak Avenue toward the studio and made the right onto Main Street. Parallel parking, he rushed into the office before the cold wind hit him. The bell chiming overhead and Ryan’s voice carried from the back room.

“I’ll be right with you!”

“It’s just me.”

Ryan peeked around the corner, her blue eyes filled with relief. “Oh thank God! Could you hand me my jacket on the back of the chair?”

“Sure, what’s going on?”

Gregg came around the corner and nearly swallowed his tongue. Ryan was wearing the same type of wool slacks she wore to work most days, her flame red hair pulled back into a no nonsense bun and her face free of any makeup. Her nose had a little bump on the bridge, and she had a heart-shaped face with full lips. His eyes traveled down to where her buttoned-to-the-neck top should have been and instead, in its place, a slinky white camisole showed a lot more than it covered. It was usually hard to discern what her figure looked like under her drab clothes, but in the tight top tucked into the slacks he could see that her breasts were firm, more than a handful, and it made his palms itch to reach out and cup them. Her waist was slim and indented, and if he had to hazard a guess, they probably flared quite nicely under the sexless pants.

His imagination was taking a dangerous turn and his mouth dried out as he pictured her in nothing but that sexy little see-through top. When he opened his mouth to speak, it came out a little ragged. “What happened to your shirt?”

“Oh good, you brought my sweater.” Oblivious to his pained expression, she grabbed the cardigan and slipped it over her arms and shoulders. She buttoned the sweater, covering the upper portion of bare skin he’d been admiring, and said, “While Cammie and Joel picked out the pictures they wanted, I offered to hold Dylan, and the little booger puked on me. I tried to just wipe it off, but apparently baby puke is toxic. I couldn’t get the smell to go away and it was making my stomach turn.”

He tried to forget about what he’d seen under the dowdy black sweater, and choked out, “So is it just the puke you object to? Or is it the actual kid you find distasteful?”

She shook her head and walked around him. “No, I love kids. I would love some of my own someday, lots of them, but the only puke I want to clean off me is theirs. Or my husband’s, depending on how much I love him.”

He wasn’t sure he’d ever love anyone enough to let them puke on him. He tried imagining Ryan sitting in a rocking chair surrounded by a dozen little cherub faces, and the scene made him smile. She’d make a wonderful mother, being so patient with the kids who came into the studio.

“So how many is a lot?”

She smiled as she sat down at her computer. “I don’t know, maybe four? I always wanted a big family. My mom had complications when she had me so she could never have any more kids, and it was always kind of lonely by myself. We didn’t live in a neighborhood, so I didn’t really get to have friends until school, and I had a few really great ones but I was always a little . . . awkward.”

Gregg knew that Ryan had a hard time talking to people outside of her job, and it always puzzled him. She had been a little nervous during her interview with him when she responded to his help wanted ad, but she warmed up quickly. Of course, they had been talking about photography, which Ryan was very passionate about, but after that he hadn’t had any trouble having a conversation with her. In fact, she was actually really funny and could give as good as she got.

This wasn’t the first time Ryan had brought up her awkwardness, and for some reason, the thought that she couldn’t see herself the way he did bothered him. To him she was funny, sweet, and easy to talk to. Their constant banter was one of the things he looked forward to most days.

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