Page 47 of The Catch

She caresses my face and I can't breathe. I want a million moments like this. Times when every second stretches for an eon, because in it the space between us disappears. All that exists is this joy glittering inside. The belief that it could be real, lasting, and mutual. That she could feel the same for me, too.

"You had flour on your face," she explains.

Something in me breaks. A clean snap of a cord, deep inside my chest.

Silly me.

Of course she wasn't suddenly taken by our proximity like I was.

"I see." I study my hands, with flour all over and dough on my palms. "I'm making a fool of myself."

"You couldn't," she says.

I raise an eyebrow and let myself hide in some playfulness. Moving slowly, I pass the back of my hand over her cheek. It's a thank you for her words, comforting as they were. It's the deprivation, too. The touch itself soothes the pang of my foolishness.

"Oops." I study the smattering of flour I left on her skin. "Let me fix that."

I'm certain everyone knows I'm doing it all on purpose, but I couldn't care less. Everyone's welcome to jump to conclusions. They will think I'm an opportunist taking a chance to flirt and seduce. It's fine. I've built my fame as a playboy brick by brick, but I know the truth. I need to be close to Ames again.

The heat that flickers in her eyes tells me she is into it, too. Her lips part. I step close and use the dishcloth I hang from my shoulder to gently clean her face.

A corner of my lips lift as I stare deeply into her eyes.

"Good?" I ask.

She nods. My heart drums against my ribcage.

I step away and we gaze at each other for a few moments.

"Love the vibes, keep it up," Mark says. "You can talk about the charity now."

We turn to the kitchen island and all the half-prepped food. I share about the charity and Ames asks all the right questions to make it seem like we're chatting while working together at home.

"All right." Mark claps after a while. "If you need a break this is the time. Amelia, can I talk to you for a second?"

She nods and approaches him. I drink more of the mate and sit on a nearby set chair. I kill time checking my phone, until Ames is free and sits next to me.

"Everything okay?" I ask.

"I think so. Mark wanted to ask about my last catering job." She frowns. "He also asked about Aidan."

"That's… strange."

She nods. "He said it was to make sure to prepare any kind of PR response that might be needed."

I frown. "Did he seem worried?"

"No, which threw me off." She smirks. "He seemed very business-like."

"That's good."

"Two minutes," another producer announces.

"This is going great, Ames." I nod. "You should connect with him again later on to ask for leads."

"I will. Thanks, Saint. I know you're doing this for me."

I smirk. "What makes you think that?"