He put his arm around the boy, and felt damn near fatherly, something he’d never even thought of before.
After Harper took a dozen or so shots, Jeremy said, “Now we need you and Harper.” He obviously didn’t want to be left out of the picture-taking.
“You two don’t need me in more pictures,” Harper objected again.
“Come on, Harper,” Jeremy begged.
Of course she gave in to her brother, pointing to the button he should push to take the photo. And of course Will wasn’t about to waste the opportunity to pull her in front of him and set his hands on her hips until she was nestled back against him.
The scent of her hair tantalized him. The heat of her body against his started the mercury rising in his thermometer. She was just the right height, and he was in just the right position, to snake an arm around her stomach and pull her tight against him.
She tipped her head back to whisper, “What are you doing?”
“Taking advantage of a perfect opportunity to hold you close.”
Meanwhile, Jeremy had his tongue stuck between his teeth and was busy centering the camera, moving a step one way, then the other, angling, holding his arms straight out, then pulling them in slowly. Will didn’t think he’d even pushed the button yet.
His heart was beating hard. Could she sense the faster rhythm between her shoulder blades? Did she know the effect she had on him? Holding her in his arms was so damn good that he closed his eyes, breathed her in, and let his fantasies spin out...until a voice blew his fantasies to hell.
“If I’d known you were doing a photo shoot, I’d have brought Whitney.” Evan Collins stood in the open barn door.
Harper immediately jumped away from Will, and Jeremy started, fumbling the camera. Will saw it tumble to the floor, with no way to reach out before it landed with a crack.
For one long moment, everyone stared. Then Jeremy began to splutter. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad, Will. Please don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to.” The boy’s face had crumpled, and his eyes were tearing up.
Harper leaped to him, bending to retrieve the camera. “It wasn’t your fault, Jeremy. I should have put the strap over your head.” She looked at the crack in the view screen and grimaced at Will. “We’ll replace it.”
“It’s just a cheap model,” Will said as he crossed to her side. An image of his shoes filled the viewfinder, and the crack was a short diagonal line across the upper right corner.
“Don’t make me go home, Will. I’m sorry. I won’t touch anything else. Promise.” Jeremy crossed his heart.
Will put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and made sure he was looking straight into his eyes as he said, “It’s okay, Jeremy. It was an accident.”
A tear slid down Jeremy’s cheek, and Will felt a rip in his heart. How many times had the kid been punished for accidents that weren’t his fault? Never by Harper, he knew, but it was a cruel world out there, with little tolerance for people who didn’t measure up. And Will should know, since he hadn’t always been tolerant, hadn’t always been kind. And others had paid the price.
Will took the camera, switched it to display mode, then clicked on the last photo to show it to Jeremy and Harper. Her brother had captured a shot with Will’s arm locked across Harper’s waist, her hand over his as if she were holding him there. It hinted at an intimacy he craved to make real.
But this moment was about Jeremy, so Will told him, “See, it still works.”
Beside him, Harper sighed with relief. He gave her the camera as Jeremy whispered, “You’re not mad?”
“Of course I’m not mad. We’re buddies. Buddies don’t get mad at stupid stuff.” Which brought him back to Evan, who was still standing in the open barn door. “You certainly know how to make an entrance.”
His friend raised his palms in surrender, a manila envelope in his right hand. “I didn’t mean to surprise everyone.”
They’d been friends since the sixth grade, when they’d first become the Mavericks. Evan had been a fifth grader, along with Matt, while Sebastian, Daniel, and Will were a year older. Evan’s brains were huge, and as a kid, people had called him a nerd. Though with his broad, muscular frame, he now looked more like a professional athlete rather than the financial wizard behind the Mavericks.
Evan gave Jeremy a lopsided grin. “Sorry I scared you. I’m Evan Collins.”
“Hi.” Jeremy’s voice was overly loud in the barn. “I’m Jeremy.”
Evan switched the envelope to his left hand and shook Jeremy’s. Then he swiveled his gaze to Harper, clear male appreciation lighting his eyes. “And you are?”