Page 43 of The Catch

He puts an arm around me, over the back of my chair. With a smile on his face, and those sweet dimples working overtime to make him look innocent, he leans close.

He gazes deep into my eyes. "First, the TV show. Then, you with my name on your back. I would love to have you there."

I believe him.

And just like that, my crush on my brother's friend, the popular jock who dates as easily as he breathes, who's a well-known flirt, takes root deep between my lungs.

Chapter 16

Saint

"Okay, let's do this." Mark, the show's producer, rolls up his sleeves as if he's ready to get his hands dirty.

He directs us to stand behind a large kitchen island. The set is beautiful. The countertops are all white marble, with sleek white cabinets and copper hardware. A few open shelves showcase cooking appliances and fancy enameled cast iron pots and pans in bright colors. Three ovens and an industrial-sized fridge set the backdrop, framed by open displays of rustic baskets overflowing with fresh produce. It's the perfect mix of modern and homey, with a touch of professional, and a little too close to the kitchen of my dreams. The kind I would have built for myself and a partner I planned to grow old with. Someone I might cook breakfast for, and then seduce on the dinner table. Only to do it all over again for the next meal, and the next.

I sigh and glance at Ames.

Yeah, keep on wishing, man.

Five cameras point their large, dark eyes our way. They temper my excitement to cook in this space. I'm not a professional at all. It helps that Ames stands nextto me, a smile on her face. She looks confident. It's no surprise, since she has every reason to be. She's in her element. All I have to do is reflect the light she emits so effortlessly.

Her beauty only adds to her shine. She wears a green dress that plays with the set lights in such a way, a subtle, glimmering blue appears only when hit at the right angle. It gives a sense of ice and winter and warmth all at the same time. She pinned her curls at her temples, opening her face and inviting us all to admire her gorgeous brown eyes. Her lips are painted a bright red, too, of course.

I tap at my stomach. It's a reflex— one that aims to fix my shirt even if there's nothing to fix. The geometric silver pattern on my dark green shirt seems like a poor match for her splendor. I might as well take it off and throw it in the deep fryer.

Mark checks something on his phone. I purse my lips.

Ames gazes at me and mutes her mic. "You look handsome."

I lift both eyebrows and do the same. "I was just thinking that you look so beautiful, I shouldn't have bothered trying to dress up to cook. I might as well have shown up naked."

She blushes. "That would have been quite the Christmas episode."

"Yeah?" I smile and bring a hand to my chest. "There's still time to reconsider."

Several buttons are already undone, and I let my fingers hover at the first closed one.

"Shirt?" I ask. "No shirt? Do you have a preference?"

"Saint."

My name on her lips is an admonishment. I like it enough that I respond to it by undoing one more button.

"Oh my God." She puts a hand over my fingers to stop me. "Don't. You're making me blush right before we start recording."

"Yeah?" I grin, grab her fingers in mine, and press her hand to my chest. "The idea of me naked makes you bashful?"

Our fingers casually interlock over my skin, and I hold on so she can't easily pull away. It's my natural instinct taking over. Whatever part of me loves to flirt and seduce sees how delightful she is and takes action, no matter the consequences. That part doesn't care that my heart is involved, desperate to blow oxygen to the flames because it'sher. Neither cares that I'm playing with fire, just to have her close a little longer.

"Shirtless isn't the same as naked—" She blinks a few times. Her blush deepens. "And it's such a safety concern in the kitchen—"

"It would be worth it. You look lovely when you blush."

"Saint…"

"Okay, then." Mark puts away his phone. "We're good to go."

Ames takes her hand away. I put mine in my pockets. We pull back, like two teens caught in a compromising position and unmute our mics. Mark gazes from Ames to me and back to Ames.