The Promise of Us (Sanctuary Sound #2) - Jamie Beck Page 0,37
her ensemble. With a resigned shrug, she muttered, “Hi.”
Everything about her appearance loosened all his muscles as if he’d just exhaled. If it wouldn’t have shocked her, he might’ve lifted her off the ground and twirled her around. “Is that candy bar your way of dealing with the emotional fallout from Peyton’s apology?”
She glanced away, sighing.
“Thank you, Claire. I know speaking with my sister wasn’t easy, but I’m grateful. This afternoon is the first time in months that I’ve seen her look the least bit optimistic.”
“Don’t get too excited.” She peered up at him somberly through her lashes. “I heard her out, but please don’t expect more.”
“I don’t.” Not yet, anyway. He clasped his hands behind his back and bowed slightly. “I’m actually here to do something for you.”
She released her robe, gripping the edge of the door with her hand. “Why does that make my stomach drop?”
He shrugged. She might not quite know what to make of him, yet her eyes filled with curiosity. The intoxicating combination tempted him to prolong the conversation. “Invite me inside and I’ll tell you my idea.”
She closed her eyes, her chin dropped to her chest, then she looked up and waved him in. “Why not?”
He breezed past her and shrugged out of his coat, when he noticed the coffee table littered with empty junk-food wrappers and bags. “Jesus. Did you rob a convenience store?”
She crossed her arms, still clutching her half-eaten candy bar. “You said you came to do me a favor, not make fun of me.”
“True.” He spied some peanut M&M’s. “May I have some?”
She hesitated, as if she couldn’t spare them, although the amount of chocolate and sugar she’d already consumed would’ve put him in a coma. “I guess.”
“Let’s sit.” He gestured toward the living room.
She chewed a hunk of the Snickers bar and plopped onto the sofa.
He sat beside her and palmed a few M&M’s. When she wedged herself into the corner, he turned his body to face her. Her gaze dropped to his knee, which he’d planted two inches from hers.
“I browsed your website. The colors, fonts, and function work well, but the gallery photos . . . well, those look unprofessional, like you or Steffi used your iPhone and uploaded them.”
“We did.” She broke another chunk off the shrinking Snickers bar and popped it into her mouth, mumbling, “We’re on a budget.”
“I know, so let me retake those photos. Better lighting and angles—artfully framed architectural shots—will give your site more polish and reflect your professionalism. No need to announce your meager budget to the world with amateur photography.”
That slight smile tugging at the corners of her lush mouth would taste like chocolate and caramel now.
“That’s quite an offer, but it’ll lead to more strings.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to feel obligated to deal with Peyton on a regular basis because you’ve helped me again. You don’t owe me anything. I heard Peyton out because you hired me as a favor, so we’re even.”
She balled up the wrapper and tossed it onto the accumulating pile, then motioned for him to hand her some M&M’s.
“I hired you because you’re good at your job, not as a favor. Shooting your projects for free is my thank-you . . . no strings. Honestly, it’ll give me something to do while I’m hanging out in town.” When she seemed skeptical, he added, “I could use an excuse to get out of the house. Otherwise my mom will drag me into all the last-minute gala BS.”
“God forbid you help her with that,” she teased, popping a green M&M in her mouth.
He shifted his body, edging closer. Fuzzy robes weren’t sexy, yet Claire’s cozy pajamas lured him nearer, as if proximity would pass on her comfort by osmosis. “You think that sounds like fun?”
“Of course I do. People around here look forward to that party all year. It’s a great cause and a chance to dress up.”
“I suppose I never looked at it that way.” The literacy fund-raiser was a snooze fest compared with his typical A-list parties in New York. But maybe there was more value in it than he’d ever wanted to acknowledge.
“You’ve probably never looked at a lot of things the way the rest of us do. You might have a love-hate relationship with your last name, but most people would kill for the doors it opens.”
“You’re seeing all the benefits and none of the downside. Trust me, when you’ve got my name, you’re never sure whether people are