With Me in Seattle Bundle One (2 page)

“Here, these are the photos I took.”  I point the screen toward him and start to page through them, showing him all of the images.  “Would you like to see the others I took as well?”

“Yes,” he whispers.

I continue to show him the images of the water, the sky, the boats, the mountains.  I can’t help but smell his clean scent as he intently looks at the photos, scrutinizing each one while pulling his lower lip through his thumb and forefinger.  His brow is furrowed.  

Sweet Jesus, he smells good.

I’ve taken over two hundred photos this morning, so it takes a few minutes to page through each one.  When I’m finished, he looks up into my eyes, and I see his embarrassment, and I’m not sure, but he looks almost sad.

My heart gives a flip as he smiles, a true full-blown, no-holds-barred smile, wiping away the sadness, and shakes his head slowly.  He could melt glaciers with that smile. End wars. Resolve the national debt crisis.

“I’m sorry.”

“So you should be.”  I turn the camera off and start to walk away from him.

“Hey, I’m really sorry.”

“You must be awfully full of yourself if you think that everyone with a camera is taking your picture.”  I continue walking, and of course he’s caught up with me, matching my stride.

Why is he still here?

He clears his throat.  “Can I ask your name?”

“No,”  I respond.

“Um, why?”  He sounds confused.

Hell, I’m confused.

“I don’t give my name out to my muggers.” 

“Muggers?” He stops midstride and pulls me to a stop beside him, his hand on my elbow.  I look down at his hand and, raising my eyes back to his, pin him with a glare.

“Let go of me.”  He does immediately. 

“I’m not a mugger.” 

“You tried to steal my camera.  What do you call it?”  I start walking again, realizing I’m heading in the opposite direction of my house.  Shit.

“Look, I’m not a mugger.  Stop for a minute, will you?”  He stops again, rubs his face with his hands and looks at me.  I face him, put my hands on my jean-clad hips, my camera hanging harmlessly around my neck, and glare at him. 

“I don’t know who you are,” I say in my best no-nonsense voice.

“Clearly,” he responds, and a smile tickles his lips, and I can’t help but feel my stomach clench, hoping he gives me that big grin again.  My not knowing him seems to make him happy, but it’s pissing me off.  Should I know him? 

“Why are you smiling?”  I find myself smiling back at him.

He looks me up and down, taking in my dark hair, currently tied up in a haphazard bun, casual red T-shirt that hugs my breasts, jeans, curvy hips and thighs, and returns his deep blue gaze to mine.  His smile widens, and I lose my breath.

Wow.

“I’m Luke.”  He holds his hand out for me to shake, and I look at it, still not fully trusting him, then back up to him.  He raises a brow, almost as a challenge, and I find myself putting my small hand in his big, strong one and clasping it firmly.

“Natalie.”

“Natalie,” he says my name slowly, looks down at my mouth, and I bite my lower lip.  He inhales sharply and looks back into my eyes.

Fuck, he’s beautiful.  I pull my hand out of his grasp and look down, not knowing what else to say, and still confused as to why I’m still standing here with him. 

“I…I have to go,” I stammer, suddenly nervous.  “It was…interesting meeting you, Luke.”  I start to walk around him toward my house, and he steps in front of me.

“Wait, don’t go.”  He runs a hand through his already messy golden hair.  “I’m really sorry about all this.  Let me make it up to you.  Breakfast?”

He frowns slightly, like he didn’t mean to say that, and then looks at me hopefully.

Say no, Nat.  Go home.  Go back to bed.  Mmm…bed with Luke…
Sweaty bodies, tangled sheets, his head between my legs, my body writhing as I come…

Stop!

I shake my head, trying to push the fantasy aside, and find myself saying, “No, thanks.  I should go.”

“Husband waiting at home?” he asks, glancing at my ringless finger.

“Uh, no.”

“Boyfriend?”

I give him a small smile.  “No.”

His face relaxes.  “Girlfriend?”

I can’t stop the laugh that comes.  “No.” 

“Good.”  He’s giving me that big smile again, and I want desperately to say yes to this beautiful stranger, but my common sense kicks in, and I remind myself that this is not safe, I don’t know him, and as swoon-worthy as he is, he’s still a stranger.

I, of all people, know about stranger danger.

So I ignore the clenching between my legs, give him another small smile, and I say as politely and as forcefully as I can, “Thanks anyway.  Have a good day, Luke.”

Of course, politely and forcefully sounds all whispery from me right now.

Crap.

I hear him murmur, “Have a good day, Natalie,” as I walk briskly away.

***

I walk home quickly, feeling Luke’s eyes on my Kardashian-esque backside until I turn the corner toward my house. Why didn’t I wear a longer shirt? My heart is thumping, and I just want to be safe inside, safe from sexy-smiled muggers.  My body hasn’t responded to a man like this in a long time, and while I admit it feels nice, Luke is just entirely too… Wow.

I close and lock my front door then follow my nose to the kitchen.  Jules is making breakfast!

“Hey, Nat, get any good photos this morning?”  Much to my delight, my BFF is flipping pancakes, and I smell bacon crisping in the oven.  My stomach growls as I place my camera on the breakfast bar and pull up a stool.

“Yeah, it was a good morning,” I reply.  I wonder if I should bring up Luke.  Jules tends to be on the romantic side, and she’ll most likely have us married off by the end of the conversation, but she is the one person I confide in about everything, so why not?  “I got some good shots.  Almost got mugged…pretty standard morning.”

I smile to myself as Jules twirls around, dropping a pancake on my tile floor, gasping. 

“What?  Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”  I let out a snort.  “Some guy was pissed that I might have taken his picture.”  I describe my encounter to her, and she smiles sweetly when I’m finished.

“Sounds like he likes you, friend.”

I snort.  “Whatever.  He’s just some random guy.”

Jules rolls her eyes and turns back to the pancakes.  “He might just be some random guy, but if he’s as hot as you say he is, you should have gone to breakfast with him.”

I scowl at her.  “Gone out to breakfast with the hot mugger?” I ask incredulously.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic.”  Jules flips the bacon in the oven then ladles more pancake batter onto the griddle.  “It sounds like he was really nice.”

“Yes, when he wasn’t trying to steal my obscenely expensive camera, he was a perfect gentleman.”

Jules laughs, and I can’t help but smile in return.  “What do you have going on today?” she asks.

Pleased with the change in conversation, I walk around the breakfast bar and start loading a plate with delicious food.  “I have a session at noon, and I need to make some deliveries this afternoon.  I really need to try to get in a nap this morning.”

“Couldn’t sleep again?” Jules asks.

I shake my head.  Sleep never comes easily for me.

I reclaim my stool and take a bite of bacon.  Jules is next to me.  “How about you?”

“Well, since it’s Tuesday, I guess I’ll go to work today.”  Jules is a very successful investment banker in downtown Seattle.  I couldn’t be more proud of my longtime best friend.  She’s beyond smart and beautiful. She’s the whole package.. 

“We gotta make a living.” I devour the delicious pancakes on my plate, then rinse both our plates and load the dishwasher.

“I can do that.” Jules starts to come into the kitchen, but I wave her back.

“No, you cooked.  I got this.  Go to work.”

“Thanks!  Have a fun session.”  She wiggles her eyebrows at me and heads for the garage.

“Have a good day at the office, dear!”  I call after her, and we both giggle.

I climb the stairs to my bedroom and strip naked.  I really need some sleep.  My clients pay me very well to give them a fun, beautiful photo session, and I need to be well rested.

My room is large, with floor-to-ceiling windows.  This is the one room of the house that has any pink in it.  I love my soft pink duvet and fluffy pink pillows. My bed frame is simple, but the headboard is an old barn door that I nailed to the wall to give the room a rustic feel.

I fall into my king-size bed, the soft sheets hugging my naked body, and gaze out the window to the ocean view.  I love this house.  I never want to move.  Ever.  This view alone is priceless.  The sapphire-blue water outside calms me, and as my eyes get heavy, I think of deep blue eyes and a killer smile and slip into sleep.

 

Chapter Two

I’m out and about, delivering framed photos of flowers and beach scenes to the restaurants and shops along Alki Beach. 

“Hi, Mrs. Henderson!”  I smile at the gray-haired, plump woman behind the counter in Gifts Galore, one of my favorite trinket shops. I happily note that my work is hanging behind the cash register.  There are shelves and shelves of beachy knickknacks, jewelry, and other artwork.  It’s a fun place to wander around in.

“Hello, Natalie!  I see you have a delivery for me!”  She smiles and comes around the counter, pulling me into a big hug.

“I do.  I hope you can use them.”

“Oh yes, I’m just about out of the others you brought in last week.  You’ve become quite the popular young artist.”  Mrs. Henderson starts looking through my work, oohing and aahing, and I feel the pride in my chest as she tells me that she’ll take all I’ve brought her today.

We chat at the counter while she writes me a check for last week’s sales, and I turn to leave, but stumble into a very firm chest.

“Oh, excuse me…” I take a step back and look up. 

“Hello, Natalie.”  Luke’s staring down at me, a smile tickling his lips.  He looks a bit surprised, happy, and just… Oh my.

“Hello, Luke.”  My voice sounds breathy again, and I mentally wince. 

Mrs. Henderson heads to the back of her store to check on a customer, leaving Luke and I alone.  I stare down at my sandals, reminding myself I need a pedicure. 

What am I supposed to say?

“So, you’re an artist.”  Luke glances over at my framed photos still stacked on the counter.

“Yes.” I follow his gaze.  “I sell my work in the local shops.”

He grins, and I feel that pull again in my gut.

“What are you doing in here?” I ask  “This doesn’t seem like your kind of store.” 

“I’m looking for a gift for my sister for her birthday.” He starts shuffling through my frames.  “These would be perfect.  She just bought a new condo.  Which ones would you suggest?”  He glances back at me, and I have no choice but to join him at the counter and lean close to him as we look through the twenty-plus photos together.

“Does she prefer flowers or scenery?” I ask.

“Er.” He swallows.  Am I having some kind of effect on him? I lean a little closer to him, pretending to inspect the photos on the counter and hear him catch his breath. “Probably flowers.”

“I’d go with these.”  I smile to myself, enjoying his nearness now that I don’t feel threatened by him, and select four photos of flowers, all different kinds and colors, and arrange them in a square for him to see.

“Perfect.”  His smile lights up his face, and I can’t help but smile back.  “You’re very talented.”

His compliment takes me back for a second, and I feel my cheeks flush. “Thank you.”

Luke pays Mrs. Henderson, and then follows me as I head out of the store to my car. 

“Where are you headed?” he asks as he catches up to me.

“Well, that was my last delivery, so I’ll be heading home.”

“Or,” he says nonchalantly, “I could take you out for coffee.” 

My stomach tightens excitedly.  He’s still interested!  Am I?  He could be an ax murderer.  Or worse.

“Happy hour?” he continues.

I smile and look away from him, still striding toward my car.

“Dinner?  Can I buy you an ice cream cone?”  He runs his free hand through his messy hair, and I mentally hug myself. 

Somewhere public should be safe, so before I can put too much more thought into it, I hear myself saying, “Let’s go get a drink. There’s a bar one block over that has a good happy hour.”

“Lead the way!”  Damn, I would do just about anything for that grin.

“Don’t you want to take your sister’s photos to your car?”

“I walked.” He shrugs.

“Here, stow them in my car.”  I open the trunk of my Lexus SUV and pull the door up for him.

“Nice car,” he says, surprised. His eyebrows are raised as he gazes at me. 

“Thanks.” I flip the lever for the door to close and lock the car again as we continue down the sidewalk.

Luke pulls his aviator sunglasses from the neck of his soft white T-shirt and puts them on, looking around him as though he’s making sure no one is watching him, and I frown.  Is he embarrassed to be seen with me?  If so, why did he ask me out?

I’m still puzzling over this as he holds the door to my favorite Irish pub open for me, and we walk into the cool bar. 

“Hi!  Welcome to the Celtic Swell.”  A young server smiles at both of us, paying special attention to Luke, and I mentally roll my eyes. “It’s a beautiful day out there,” she continues. “Would y’all like to sit inside or outside?”

I glance up at Luke, and without pausing or asking me what I’d prefer, he says, “Inside.”

“Sure thing. Follow me, handsome.” She winks at Luke, ignoring me completely, and leads us to a booth near the back of the bar.

We are seated, and Miss Flirty points out the happy hour menu displayed on the table, smiles broadly at Luke again, and then leaves us alone.

“Are you embarrassed to be out with me?” I am determined to get to the bottom of this. 

Luke gasps, takes off his sunglasses, revealing his wide blue eyes, and looks horrified.  The knots in my stomach slowly release.

“No!  No, Natalie, not at all.  In fact, I’m thrilled to spend time with you.”  He looks so sincere.  “Why do you ask?”

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