First Comes Love - Ashlee Price Page 0,27

to rely on my unreliable zoom-in function.

“Sweep a shot over it, nice and slow,” he says, “Then get the baby tapir in the woods a bit ahead.”

As he’s saying it, I’m already doing it, swallowing back my gasp of surprise that there’s another equally weird and actually cute little creature a few steps back from the first.

“Now, I’m going to hold out this leafy branch and…” To my surprise, the tapir slowly advances to nibble on Greyson’s extended leafy branch.

“You should probably also get…” he sounds awkward as he trails off, but I know exactly what he’s getting at. I capture of shot of his pleasantly surprised face.

“Greyson!” Russel calls from behind us.

As the tapir races away, Greyson instructs me, “Get it,” and I am, and I’m laughing. We’re laughing.

“Coming!” Greyson calls back, although he doesn’t move.

I grin at him. “That was…” I feel like hugging him, even though the tapir scene probably won’t even be a main shot in the show, maybe won’t even be included in the final version. It’s more how seamlessly we work together.

Next thing I know, he’s swept me up in his arms and spun me around. “That was amazing, you were…”

He sets me back on my feet, a sheepish look amidst the excitement on his face.

I find I can’t quite meet his eye, can’t trust myself not to kiss him if I do. “I can see why they call you a legend. You were so in the zone, like you knew exactly what that tapir was going to do before it even did.”

“Baird’s Tapir,” he explains. “It’s mainly nocturnal, so we lucked out, but… it was perfect. We just went with it.”

I stifle a little prickle of joy at his ‘we’.

“I’m no legend, though,” he continues, although he can’t manage to wipe that big goofy smile off his face. “I just… this is what I love. This…” He trails off, gestures around him then shrugs helplessly.

I nod. I get it. It’s the same thing I feel when I get behind the camera: a loss of time, a flow, a perfection.

“Thank you,” he says, his hands going to my shoulders. His face looks different than I’ve seen it, as if some undefinable sort of tension has loosened. “This is what I came here for.”

“Really?” I can’t help but ask. “To catch shots of weird tapirs?”

“No, to catch great shots and work with great people.” His mouth quirks to the side. “From a business point of view, I’m just here to get the job done, but…”

“What’s the point if you don’t love it?” I finish, hyper-aware of how his hands are still resting on my shoulders, how I don’t want them to leave. “But you do. We do.”

And how we both get it is so satisfying that we stand there for a bit longer. Seconds, minutes, who knows. All I know is that we break apart and head back to the camp only when the next “Greyson!” comes and the spell is broken.

Chapter 11

Greyson

That night, I can’t sleep. I roll back and forth in my sleeping bag. I flip my pillow, smack my pillow, get rid of my pillow. But I can’t.

Something’s buzzing inside of me.

Something I haven’t felt since… the last time I sat in the producer’s chair.

Getting up, I sit with my sleeping bag bunched all around me and scowl at nothing.

Finally, I get out and look around me and see…

“Wow,” I whisper, my neck craned up.

I hadn’t even realized we’d reached a clearing until now. It’s not a full clearing, but enough that trees aren’t blocking the overhead view completely. With the result of a view that has me staring.

Before I know quite what I’m doing, I’m going over to Harley’s tent and, crouched at the door flap, whispering, “Harley?”

Nothing.

Good.

What was I thinking, coming over here to wake her? Sure, she should see this, but us alone at night isn’t a good idea.

“Ay?” comes back a murmur just as I’m turning away.

Shuffling, then an unzipping and her adorably rumpled head pops out. “Something wrong?”

Her eyes are still half-closed, her lips curled in a sleepy smile.

I grind my feet into the ground to avoid lunging there and kissing that smile bigger, rumpling that hair more. “Nothing important.”

A blink, then her eyes narrow my way. “Then why… wake up?”

Fuck, do I want her. Instead, I turn away. “I’ll tell you in the morning.”

More unzipping, more shuffling, and next thing I know she’s beside me.

“Do you ever listen to anyone?” I ask her wryly.

“Yeah, sometimes,” she