Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

A bby squinted at the schedule, her insides tied in knots. Agreeing to this crazy modelling gig had been bad enough, now she had to sit here and calmly do a final read-through of the plans for this afternoon's shoot.

"Are you going to eat anything?" Judd pointed to the untouched seafood on her plate with a hopeful look on his face.

"It's all yours, garbage guts." She nudged the plate across the table and smiled as he speared a scallop and several shrimps before the plate reached him. "Were you always this much of a pig?"

Her smile turned to laughter as he looked up, mouth full, and pushed his nose into a distinct porcine shape. "Gross. If I'd known, I never would've agreed to marry you. At this rate, you'll be eating us out of house and home in the first month."

They'd been like this all morning, teasing each other about their ‘commitment'. He'd helped her plan everything—from finding the best location to shutting up Tom when he gave them a hard time— making a potentially nightmarish situation fun, and they hadn't stopped laughing since.

If only she could blink away the image of him in that wedding tux, standing next to her in the most exquisite wedding gown she'd ever seen, and she'd be a lot happier.

Doing a wedding shoot when she'd secretly fantasised about the real thing with her pretend groom was a little too close to home—and had her pondering ‘what if', especially with the groom flirting with her like a pro.

Judd finished the mouthful before responding. "Sorry, it's been ages since I've had decent food. Being stuck in the desert for six months at a stretch will do that to a guy with a healthy appetite."

Her smile didn't falter though her stomach did a strange flip-flop at the mention of his appetite and she wondered if that philosophy extended to all his appetites.

Don't go there…

"Speaking of food, do we get to have an intimate dinner for two after the ‘ceremony'?" He arched an eyebrow. "After all, tonight is our wedding night." His voice dropped seductively low and Abby took a sip of water to ease the sudden dryness in her throat.

She should be used to his teasing by now but his use of the word ‘intimate' conjured up a host of images she'd rather not contemplate.

Tossing her hair in a ‘dream on' gesture, she said, "Just because we're doing the whole dress and flowers bit, doesn't mean you should get any ideas."

"Who, me?" Mischief gleamed in his eyes before he ducked his head and continued devouring the rest of her meal. "I just think if we're going to do this, we should do it right."

"Uh-huh. Next you'll be suggesting a honeymoon, I suppose?"

His gaze snapped up to lock on hers, humour replaced by something darker, deeper, more sensual. "Now you're talking."

Abby tried to tear her gaze away, she really did, but she'd never seen him look like this and it had her hypnotised.

"You're such a flirt," she finally managed to say, gulping the rest of her icy water in three swallows and wishing she could run the frosted glass over her heated brow. "Though you know it's wasted on me, right?"

"Flirting is never a waste."

He dabbed his mouth with a crisp linen napkin, drawing her attention to his lips, those same lips that had kissed her last night, the same lips that had demonstrated in startling clarity how much better things could get between them if they moved past the flirting stage.

"Once this shoot is over we're bound for life. I can leave my clothes on the floor, my towels draped over the furniture, the cap off the toothpaste, the toilet seat up, and you have to put up with me for better or worse."

She chuckled at his cheeky grin, enjoying their banter now he'd stopped staring at her like she was dessert. "Sure. Go ahead, knock yourself out, as all that will be happening in your room."

"What if I sneak into yours and put frogs in your bed? Or better yet, itching powder?" He rubbed his hands together in anticipation and the thought of him sneaking into her room wasn't so bad after all.

She smiled and reached across the table to slap his hands. "I'd be forced to retaliate and you don't want to try me, you really don't."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What are you going to do? Duck my head underwater like you did on sixth grade camp at Manly beach?"

"Maybe I'll flush it down the toilet next time."

"Bully."

She tried a mock frown and failed, dissolving into hopeless giggles. "You should be afraid, my friend. Very afraid."

Judd sat back and folded his arms. "Bring it on, tough girl."

She grinned as a waitress placed dessert in front of him, watching him eye the huge chunk of chocolate mud cake as if he hadn't eaten in a month. "I think I'm safe. If you keep eating like that, you won't be able to move let alone catch me."

"A moot point." He forked a large piece of cake in one mouthful. "I've already caught you."

"You wish."

They'd always traded quips like this and their friendship had thrived on it. If this is what working with him would be like for the week ahead she had nothing to worry about, burgeoning crazy crush or not.

He chuckled. "I agreed to help your poor snivelling hide. The least you can do is humour me."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "If you've finished stuffing your face, want to take a walk? I need to do a last minute check on the location again."

"Yeah, no problems."

"By the look of your expanding waistline, you need a walk." Grinning, she thrust the schedule into her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and aimed a pinch at his waist. "Make that a marathon. Let's go"

"Thanks for the ego boost. Not."

He sidestepped her pinch, shrugged into his jacket, and guided her to the door, his light touch in the small of her back making her all too aware of how things had shifted between them.

It wasn't the word play. They'd done that a million times before, their barbs getting more outrageous until one of them usually called truce. She'd changed. No matter how many times she tried to dismiss that kiss last night or the way it made her feel—wanton, desired, special—she couldn't, and with Judd teasing her as his usual, she needed to dampen her wild hormones.

"Any time. Come on, we've got work to do."

"Don't you ever lighten up?"

She sent him a withering glare. "You play your part in this shoot today and I'll lighten up later."

"Sounds promising."

She sent him a coy glance from beneath her lashes and he laughed as she'd expected.

"You're hopeless, Weiss. Trying to act the big, tough boss isn't you. You forget, I've seen you in your underwear."

"I was seven years old at the time and the whole class had to strip off to check for leeches down at the creek."

He shrugged, draping a friendly arm across her shoulders as they strolled along the deserted beach. "Minor detail."

Abby tried not to stiffen at his casual touch. However, her damn hormones were coming out to play in a big way and no matter how many times she told herself this was Judd, her best buddy, slinging his arm across her shoulders in a purely reflex action he'd done many times before, her body wouldn't listen. Instead, her shoulder muscles twinged, bunched, and ached with tension while she silently hoped he wouldn't notice a thing.

"What's up?"

He stopped at the exact spot they'd chosen for the shoot—a small secluded cove with the whitest sand, bluest sea, and fringed with lush, green palm trees—and turned her to face him, searching her face for answers to questions she couldn't contemplate let alone respond to.

The beauty of the location faded into oblivion under the intensity of his stare and she swallowed, knowing things would get a lot more complicated if she told the truth, yet unable to give this man anything but.

They'd always been honest with each other; it was one of the many strengths of their friendship, and no matter how much she wanted to deny it, her crazy behaviour around him would only get worse over the next week. She had no doubt the longer she spent with Judd, trading quips, swapping banter, doing the casual touchy-feely thing, the harder it would be to pretend she only considered him as friend material.

Why not bite the bullet and go for broke now? He'd probably see through any pathetic excuse she came up anyway.

"Why don't we sit down?" She sank onto the sand and patted the space next to her, all too conscious of his strong, muscular thigh inches away from hers as she tried to organise her thoughts and string together words that would make sense.

"I thought you said I needed to walk. Or run a marathon?"

"If you're fishing for a compliment, fine. You're washboard abs are to die for and you're okay just the way you are. There. Satisfied?"

He chuckled and reached over to tweak her nose. "I knew it. You want my body."

Got it in one, sport.

She rubbed her nose before screwing it up. "I'm merely using my professional observation skills. I study bodies on a daily basis, in case you've forgotten."

She let her gaze drift down his body, from his broad shoulders to his sculpted chest, along his long legs to his feet and everything in between, enjoying the opportunity for such a blatant appraisal.

She'd seen Judd's body many times before, but never had her pulse raced or her heart pounded and this time, she wanted to do more than she look. She wanted to touch, caress, and taste every inch of his tanned skin, to trace the contours, to learn every angle of his lean body.

"Yep, everything's in the right place. Not bad." She patted his collar in a motherly gesture when she would've preferred to grab it and drag him towards her so their lips could meet.

"You're confusing the hell out of me, Weiss."

Judd reached for Abby's hand before thinking better of it. He had no idea why she was acting so weird. As for the scorching look after checking him out, it had shot straight to his groin, an area he had no right acknowledging when it came to his best friend.

He thought they'd move past that kiss last night. Looked like he was wrong.

No matter how much they'd joked around all day or how hard he tried to concentrate on business, she was in his face, smiling at him, laughing at his jokes, her stunning blue eyes radiating more warmth than the tropical sun blazing down on them.

Realistically, there was only so much a guy could take, and with his libido waking up and realising his best friend was the sexiest woman he'd seen in a long while, and Abby doing her best to confuse him with mixed messages, he had no idea whether to make an utter fool of himself and kiss her again or trash his plan to work here and head back to the desert.

"You're confused?" she muttered, pushing a strand of silky hair behind one ear, the gesture heartrendingly familiar.

He'd seen her do it during exams. He'd seen her do it when she'd been dumped by her first boyfriend. Everything about her was so familiar yet something had shifted between them and blood pounded through his body at the absurd rush of it.

"Why don't you tell me what's going on? You know I'm a good listener." He kept his voice light, trying to reassure her with his tone if he couldn't reach out and touch her.

Damn, he wanted to touch her.

"You may not want to hear this," she said, dropping her hand to her side where she drew lazy circles in the sand.

For one crazy moment he hoped she felt the same spark he did, the sudden attraction that had flared to life between them. However, her grim expression was miles away from her usual happy-go-lucky one and no matter how he felt, how tempted he was to push the boundaries between them, he couldn't do it.

He would never hurt her. She meant too much to him, their friendship priceless. He'd always known it, from the first moment she'd taken pity on the embarrassed, sniffling seven year old he'd been when he bowled her over while trying to escape his father's loud curses after another drunken binge.

She'd always been there for him so he couldn't mess with the most important person in his life.

"Try me."

"It's not important," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as he leaned towards her to catch the words.

"You always were a lousy liar." He stared at her, willing her to look at him, but she kept her gaze firmly fixed on her fingers tracing idle patterns in the sand.

"And you could always read me like a book." She sighed, a small sound that shot straight to his heart.

Tread carefully , his conscience warned. She's worth it .

"That's what you think. Besides, you've changed from action adventure to mystery genre and I've always been lousy at solving mysteries."

She finally looked up, a glimmer of a smile playing about her mouth. The same mouth he'd been having illicit fantasies about all night since they'd kissed.

"That's got to be a first, you not being able to read my thoughts and finish my sentences, all that annoying stuff that makes you the great guy you are."

"Maybe I'm not as great as you think."

He reached for her hand, shaken by the doubts her faith in him raised. A great guy? How could he be when he couldn't stop thinking about moving their platonic friendship into another stratosphere? One where there were no regrets, no time to think, but plenty of one on one action with the two of them naked, sweaty, and so turned on they couldn't stand it.

"You are a great guy." She squeezed his hand, twining her fingers through his. "This may sound nuts, but do you ever feel like things are moving beyond your control? Shifting without understanding why?"

He nodded, buoyed by a surge of hope that maybe, just maybe, they were on the same wavelength after all. "Honestly? I'm caught up in some weird helpless thing lately, like I have no control over my life anymore."

"You, helpless? Like a lion about to pounce on a zebra?"

"I always did fancy you in stripes." He grinned, wondering what she'd say if she knew the truth; that he fancied her, period.

"Do you fancy me? For real, I mean."

Her blunt reply stunned him, though he should've expected it. He'd always been lousy at hiding anything from her and she'd probably picked up on his weird vibes.

She'd presented him with a golden opportunity. Come clean, see if there was the remotest chance they shared more than a lifelong friendship.

Instead, he ignored what his body urged him to do and settled for the common sense response: light, playful, designed not to let things get too deep between them.

"What man wouldn't fancy you, Weiss? You're one hell of a woman."

"I'm serious. I need to know."

Hell.

"You're my best friend in the world and the most important woman in my life."

She fixed him with a scornful glare. "That's not answering my question."

Damn right.

"Our friendship means everything to me."

Her hand slipped out of his and he immediately felt the loss.

"Just answer the question, Calloway." Her blue eyes glittered with intent as she jabbed at his chest and something inside him snapped.

"Do I fancy you for real? Hell, yeah."

Driven by pure need and madness he reached for her, winding his fingers through her hair, drawing her closer until their faces were millimetres apart.

Her careless curls cascaded like the softest silk through his fingers and he imagined the shiny tresses sliding all over his body, setting it alight with the sensual touch of silk on skin.

"This isn't a good idea," she murmured, though she didn't pull away. Instead, her hands bunched the cotton of his T-shirt as if she never wanted to let go.

"No, it's not a good idea. It's a great one." He brushed a light kiss across her lips, a tentative, testing kiss, giving her the option to stop this madness.

She sighed—whether in resignation or pleasure, he didn't know—and leaned into him, the feel of her curves firing his libido and giving all the encouragement he needed.

He deepened the kiss, nudging her lips apart with his tongue before sweeping into her mouth, exploring the delicious warmth. She met him half way, angling her head for better access, and it took all his willpower not to drag her down onto the sand and devour her on the spot.

He hungered for her, his hands taking on a life of their own as they skimmed her back, her butt, and everywhere in between.

"You feel amazing," he whispered against the corner of her mouth before nibbling his way across her jaw towards her ear.

She trembled as he licked the delicate skin behind the lobe and blew on it, her soft cry of pleasure shooting straight to his cock.

"This doesn't have to affect our friendship," he said, trailing a line of kisses down her throat to her collarbone. "We're too smart for that."

"I hope you're right."

She pulled away, the tip of her tongue flicking out to trail over her lips as if testing to see if they'd actually been attached to his less than a second ago. The innocuous action made him burn for her, and curse himself for opening his big mouth and ruining the moment.

"I guess we've established where we stand on the fancying each other issue," he mumbled, thrusting his hands in his pockets to stop from reaching out and hauling her back into his arms where she belonged.

"Uh-huh."

She turned away, but not before he glimpsed the heat shimmering in her eyes turning them to liquid sapphire and he wished he had his camera to capture her expression: passionate, glowing, yet strangely shy.

"So you feel this too?"

Her tentative question slammed into him, making him feel like a caveman for taking what he could get from that kiss without delving into what was bugging her earlier.

"That's what you wanted to talk about? You're attracted to me?"

She rolled her eyes, some of her telltale sass evident in the slight twitching of her lips. "What do you think?"

"I think we're crazy for messing with something this good. We've been friends for a long time. But I can't stop thinking about you since last night, can't stop thinking about how great it could be if we lost our minds and went for it."

There, he'd said it. Let it all hang out in the hope she'd be sensible enough for both of them. He saw the doubt in her eyes, sure it was a reflection of his. But it was too late for doubts. This was it, crunch time.

Friends or lovers?

Both, if he had any say in it.

"We've been friends for years ," she said, her fingers gripping his for dear life. "Why now? It's crazy."

He couldn't agree more. "Crazy."

"And you know we can't let this thing affect our friendship, right?"

"Right," he said, hope building with every word she uttered.

Her lips curved upwards in a blinding smile that took his breath away. "I guess there's no harm in trying? You'll be travelling the world again by the end of the week, we'll revert to our old friendship as if nothing happened. Whatever we do on the island stays on the island, right?"

He hesitated, hating the tiny white lie he'd have to tell in order to satisfy his unquenchable thirst for this woman.

"Right," he said, wondering how she'd feel if she knew of his plans to stay in Sydney and his desperate need to discover if there was more to life than the constant buzz of travel, photography, and money.

"In that case, let's go crazy." Pulling him up from the sand, she laughed at his stunned expression. "Don't look so scared, Calloway. I promise I'll be gentle."

"That's not what I'm afraid of," he said, holding her hand tight as he fell into step beside her as they strolled back towards the hotel.