Chapter 3

Chapter Three

A bby sorted through bikinis and sarongs, matching style and colour. The latest animal prints, from leopard spots to zebra stripes, were everywhere following the catwalk craze in Paris and Milan a few months earlier and she loved the funky twists on an old favourite.

Holding up a flirty bikini bra with matching boy-leg knickers, she smiled. She thrived on this, the freedom to combine her artistic eye with practical savvy for each season. And if the feedback from Finesse's readers was any indication they appreciated her keen eye for fashion as much as Mark did. Why else would her boss hint at a major deal?

She wondered what Judd thought about how far she'd come. He'd always teased her about her obsession clothes, and she'd reacted every time, their arguments as much a part of their friendship as sharing their hopes and dreams.

She'd been surprised to see him earlier. He looked good, better than his latest photos online when he'd shown definite signs of travel fatigue.

He'd acquired a bronze tan that accentuated the gold and green flecks in his hazel eyes and the brightness of his smile, and he'd let his hair grow, the thick dark waves curling at his collar. He could turn heads, not that she'd ever let the big oaf know.

"Which bikini is mine? And please don't say it's the thong." Tara Lindman grabbed the tiger print two-piece Abby handed her and held it up for inspection. "I knew it. Time to head back to the gym for another hundred lunges."

Abby smiled at the model and raised an eyebrow as she stared pointedly at her rear. "Yeah, the butt that inspires a nation needs to be more toned." She rolled her eyes. "Give me a break. If those buns were any firmer you could bounce a dollar coin off them."

Tara wiggled the piece of anatomy under scrutiny. "Hey, it's not you that has to expose herself all in the name of work."

"Thank goodness," Abby said, joining in Tara's laughter.

She'd worked with the model on and off for the last year and admired her professionalism mixed with a good dose of reality. Most models she knew strutted around with their noses ten feet in the air but not Tara. They'd bonded over the shoots they'd done together, a fact that surprised Abby. What did she have in common with the lithe goddess who had men falling at her feet?

"Have you seen the new photographer?" Tara continued sorting through the bikinis, her eyes lighting up at a sleek black one-piece cut daringly low in front. "He's absolutely scrumptious."

Abby smiled and agreed to the understatement of the year. "Yeah, he's cute."

"Cute? Are you blind? He's drop dead gorgeous." She wiggled her ring finger under Abby's nose. "And if I'm not mistaken, he doesn't have a marital noose around his neck."

"You're right about his looks but how can I confess that a guy I've known since second grade is gorgeous? If he ever found out it would go straight to his head."

"You know him?" Tara grabbed Abby's arm. "Tell me more. How well do you know him? Do you know him or do you know him?"

"We're good friends and I'd like to keep it that way so stop with the inferences."

"Hey, who's inferring anything?" Tara snickered. "I simply put two and two together."

Abby picked up a magenta sarong and draped it against Tara's fair skin. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Tara grabbed the sarong and twirled it around her head, leaving her twinkling green eyes peering out of a gap in the material like a fortune-teller.

"It means I can tell the future and yours is looking up, sweetie. You got this glow when you mentioned your friendship with Captain Australia."

"That's because he's my best friend and I love him. As a friend ."

Abby made a grab for the sarong and Tara dodged, her chuckles doing little for Abby's peace of mind.

"Don't look now but your friend is heading this way. Girlfriend, is he hot or what?"

Abby chuckled as Tara fanned her face, her gaze following the model's line of vision. Sure enough, Judd headed their way, and in his navy shorts, white T shirt, and crumpled, just-out-of-bed hair courtesy of the stiff ocean breeze, he did look hot.

From a friend's purely objective viewpoint, of course.

When Judd reached them, he gave a salute. "Here I am, reporting for duty, Weiss."

"It's going to be more fun than I thought ordering you around. Now, how about you can set up over near that palm tree?

"Great," he said, his smug grin indicating he'd give as good as he got over the next week. "Don't let the power trip go to your head or anything. Otherwise I might have to take you down."

"Is that right?" She raised an eyebrow, loving how quickly they'd slipped back into familiar teasing mode, knowing this job would be a blast courtesy of his quirky sense of humour.

"Ahem." Tara cleared her throat. "I think introductions are in order?" She thrust her hand out. "Hi, I'm Tara Lindman."

Judd's grin widened and Abby rolled her eyes. She'd seen this same reaction from every red-blooded male who came within two feet of Tara.

"I know. I'm Judd Calloway, photographer extraordinaire, at your service."

"Don't you shoot wildlife?"

"I need a change and this is it." He gestured at the bikinis and sarongs Abby had sorted. "Of course, it has other advantages. Did Abby tell you we're old friends?"

Tara smiled and slipped her arm around Abby's shoulders. "She certainly did. Lucky Abby."

Thankfully, a loud, tuneless whistle of an old Beach Boys hit drifted towards them from behind a pile of wind-surfers and saved Abby from giving Tara a swift elbow in the solar plexus as they turned to see the new arrival.

Tara lowered her arm and straightened, her hands smoothing her glorious auburn hair in a practiced motion. "Speaking of friends, who is that ?"

"That's Tom, my assistant. Might be wise to stay away from him, he's a lady killer." Judd stared directly at Abby and she wondered why the pointed glare when a moment ago they'd been trading banter.

Tom strolled up to them, laden like a pack donkey with camera equipment.

"Hello, lovely ladies." He placed his load gently on the sand like a mother placing her newborn in its crib. "Hey Abby. And you, Beautiful, need no introduction." He took Tara's hand, kissed it and bowed. "I am truly honoured."

Judd rolled his eyes. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Tara chuckled, loving every minute of the attention. "I can handle him. You're a giant pussycat, aren't you, Tom?"

Tom growled in response. "Does that mean I get my tummy rubbed?"

Abby joined in Tara's laughter. Coming from any other guy she would've taken the line as offensive but there was something endearing about the tall guy.

"Okay, folks." Abby clapped her hands to get their attention. "As much as I'd love to stand around and chat, we have a shoot to do, so let's get started."

As she picked up her clipboard, Judd tapped her on the shoulder. "Watch out for Tom."

"What?"

Judd's serious expression had her biting the inside of her cheek to stop laughing. "I meant it when I said he's a lady killer. I wouldn't want you getting hurt or anything."

Judd's warning confused her. He'd never gone all big-brother on her before. He'd usually wait until she fell for the wrong guy, then tease her about it later with the usual ‘I told you so'.

Reaching up, she tapped him on the cheek lightly. "Thanks for the warning but I'm a big girl now. I can take care of myself, especially with the Tom's of this world."

"Okay, I'm just looking out for you, one buddy to another," he muttered, checking out the camera in his hand, a vertical crease between his brows.

"You're gorgeous for caring about me," she said, standing on tiptoes and planting a quick peck on his cheek, unprepared for the swift, powerful urge to linger longer than necessary as the scent of his faint musk aftershave enveloped her.

This island heat must be getting to her.

"Right back at you."

Judd's gaze locked onto hers as she pulled away and for one, long, crazy, loaded moment she wondered if there was more behind his casual comment, if he remembered her using the same phrase on that fateful night a moment before he kissed her…

Rattled by the electricity buzzing between them, she said, "Speaking of looking out for friends, why don't you tell me about you and Paula? Is it serious?" Abby fiddled with the sarong in her hands, unable to keep the growing grin from her face. "You know, seeing as you two are sharing sundaes and all."

"We're friends. That's it." He paused and the second she glimpsed the familiar twinkle in his eyes, she knew he was about to fire back. "Besides, models aren't my thing. Perhaps I'm more into fashion stylists?"

To her annoyance, Abby blushed, heat rising up her neck and into her cheeks. Damn it, she rarely blushed, his constant teasing eliciting fiery verbal responses rather than embarrassment.

"Isn't it lucky that fashion stylists aren't into you?" She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Not this one, anyway."

Her scathing glare would've carried more punch if she'd managed to keep a straight face and not stick her tongue out at him like an adolescent, before sweeping up an armful of colourful sarongs and turning towards the beach.

"I think you're fibbing," he called at her retreating back, his laughter taunting her every step.

"And I think you're delusional."

Judd grinned as he swung his camera bag over his shoulder and followed Abby down the beach.

He'd missed this: the constant sparring, the teasing, the matching of wills. No one understood him like Abby.

She was the family he'd never had, the one bright spark in his life during the miserable years growing up after his mum had died and he'd been shackled to Pier Point courtesy of his dad, the town laughing stock.

Abby had always been there for him.

So what would she make of his latest plan?

It was too soon to tell her everything, because he had no idea how she'd react.

Would she be happy?

Would she think he was nuts?

Only time would tell. He planned to wait until the job neared completion before divulging the truth.

Who needed a week of nagging, which is exactly what dear Abby would do, when he could spend that time teasing her, laughing with her, flirting with her instead?

Yeah, he'd tell her everything at the end of the week.

In the meantime, they had some serious catching up to do.