Hot Pickle - J.J. Knight Page 0,30

“It’s like we’re filming some sappy romance.”

I press my fingers against my eyes to stem the tears of laughter. “It’s true. You say these things in all sincerity, but when they come out of your mouth, they sound ridiculous.”

We laugh a little longer, and then I can’t resist anymore, and rest my hand lightly on her waist. “I do mean it, though. I am completely infatuated with you.”

Camryn’s face turns serious. “I need to finish this shave. Let me think about this a minute.”

I move my hand back to my own leg. Will she fire me as a client? Avoid me completely?

She works more swiftly than before, scraping the blade across my cheek with quick, even strokes. Then she draws away. “Here’s a warm towel. Press it to your face.”

I take it and lift it to my cheeks.

She heads off into the kitchen. Water runs. A few things clang.

I feel like my fate is being decided.

Her footsteps return, and I lower the towel.

“I feel the same way,” she says. “But we’re kind of stuck.”

“Your brother?”

She sits on the floor in front of me, cross-legged. “It’s more than that. Yes, my brother would flip his shit. But I can handle him. There’s a lot at stake here. If we blow up spectacularly, and you’re always on the circuit, my heart might not be able to take having to see you.”

“You’re thinking about our breakup before we even start?”

She drops her gaze to the floor. “I just…”

I wonder if she’s thinking about the old love affair. Franklin mentioned it. That he didn’t think she would recover.

“You want to tell me about it?”

Her eyes lift to meet mine, and damn, it’s those lashes again. She looks vulnerable, like a child.

“You don’t have to,” I say quickly. “Only if it would help.”

“Not yet,” she says. “Let’s see where this goes. I’m not necessarily afraid.” She laughs shakily. “Well, obviously I am. I just said so. But I feel very mixed up around you. I sometimes feel very bold, like when I told you to kiss me.”

“That was nice.”

“But then there’s now. Facing the reality of it.”

“We can take this as slow as you want.”

Now her quirky smile reappears. “Right. Because I don’t see you naked three times a week.”

“You saying you’re feeling tempted?”

A smile flirts with the corners of her mouth. “I freely admit I’m tempted as hell.”

“Then let’s build on that temptation carefully. Like a tan. In layers.”

“Until it goes deep.” The minx has her head tilted, and she doesn’t look vulnerable at all.

“You’re the one who told me how much you liked my hot pickle.”

This makes her laugh. “I hope you brought one for me. I saw a paper bag.”

I smack my forehead. “I was so stressed out walking in here, I forgot to give it to you!’

“Why would you be stressed out coming to see me?”

“Maybe because every time I’m near you, my anatomy misbehaves.”

Camryn stands, stepping away from me. “Let’s get you sprayed. I have a feeling if we talk about it too much, it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

She’s right.

“Into the tent, you scalawag. Time to hose you down.”

I stand up and set the towels on the stool.

Everything seems to be in order, and the pouch is in place.

Whew.

We can go slow. Not address the attraction too fast.

It will be fine.

But when I turn around to glance at Camryn, I’m pretty sure—actually, I’m certain—she’s checking out my naked ass.

14

Camryn

The next day, I find excuses to text Max. I tell him I forgot to mention that I felt the white patch was perfectly fixable.

I send him a reminder of our appointment on Thursday.

I suggest he replace his loofah every couple of weeks.

I try not to stare at my phone, waiting for replies.

At first, his responses are normal, what you would expect from a client. Thank you, got it, will do.

But when I text him, look forward to seeing you tomorrow night, his tone changes.

He writes:

Throughout the day, whether I’m instructing the staff, helping out on the sandwich line, or greeting customers, you are constantly on my mind. I often look at the door, wondering if you will miraculously appear there, sunshine in your hair, a happy smile on your lips.

I set down the phone. Whoa.

I’m not sure how to respond. It’s like he saw through my ruse of client texts and gave me what I wanted.

And he is what I want.

I think.

It’s a quiet workday for me, since it’s midweek before the next set of competitions. So I message my