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He ran a hand through his long hair, pushing it back from his face. “I’ve never done one of these things, and I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to do. I feel like I’m talking to myself.” He grinned. “Which isn’t that unusual lately.”

He leaned closer and squinted at the camera. “Are those hearts popping up? Or people’s faces exploding?”

I chuckled. I had no doubt they were hearts. What woman in her right mind wouldn’t be glued to her screen right now if she stumbled onto this? Rafe was gorgeous, but there was something boyishly innocent about the way he looked into the camera, like he was confused by all the attention. That combination, a ridiculously sexy man who had no idea how sexy he was, was positively delicious.

God, I missed him.

Comments began to pop up along the bottom of the screen. I read the first one at the same time Rafe did.

He chuckled. “No, I don’t have a plan, but I think I’m going to keep my shirt on. Thanks for the suggestion, though.”

I laughed, even as heat crept up in my cheeks.

He shook his head. “The marketing lady suggested I spend a little time doing this, but she failed to give me pointers on what the hell I’m supposed to talk about.” He leaned forward and squinted again. Then his brows shot toward his hairline. “I don’t think I’m going to talk about that, MaryP710. Jeez. And they say men have dirty minds.”

He leaned back in his chair, still shaking his head and smiling. “I think maybe I’ll just start a piece of art. You guys can talk among yourselves. Is that even possible?” He shrugged. “I have no idea. But screw it, here we go.”

Rafe stood and disappeared off camera for a few seconds. When he came back, he was carrying a framed glass canvas in one hand, and he lifted the chair out of the way with the other. He set the canvas on the floor, then reached for his signature sledgehammer.

“Okay. So I sort of feel like a monkey in the zoo right now, but I’m going to try to forget you’re all there.” He leaned closer to the screen and smirked. It felt like he was talking directly to me. “Maybe it’s not like going to the zoo for you. Maybe you’re all voyeurs. Is that it? Do I have a bunch of voyeurs watching me?” He chuckled and shook his head again. “I won’t judge.”

My belly did a flutter that made the little somersault it had done for Calder feel like child’s play. Meanwhile, Rafe slipped a hair tie from his wrist and pulled his hair back, knotting it into a messy pile at the nape of his neck. A few loose strands fell around his face, but he didn’t bother to fix them. He was already focusing on the glass.

That was the thing about Rafe. He could joke and flirt and make a hundred women melt, but the moment he turned toward his work, something in him changed. His expression sharpened, the charming, self-deprecating man disappeared, and the artist took over.

God help me, that version of him was even hotter.

He lifted the sledgehammer, and the muscles in his forearm flexed, the thin cotton of his T-shirt pulling tight across his shoulders.

“I should probably say something profound before I smash this,” he said, glancing at the camera. “But I’ve got nothing.”

Someone must have commented because he laughed. “Fine. How about this? Sometimes beautiful things have to break before they become what they’re supposed to be.”

My breath caught.

Rafe looked down at the glass, then back at the camera once again before raising the hammer up over his head and swinging.

The crack of the glass made me flinch, even though I’d known it was coming. But Rafe didn’t miss a beat. He brought the hammer down again and again. Each strike fractured the surface into a web of glittering lines that caught the light. Sweat gathered at his temples, and his jaw tightened with concentration.

I couldn’t look away. I watched every second, drawn to the screen in a way that made my skin grow damp, even though the air conditioning was on.

I missed him so very much.

I missed the way he smiled at me like I was the only person in the room…the only person in the world.

I missed the way he listened when we talked. Not just to my words, but to all the things beneath them, like everything I said revealed something about me he didn’t know, and he was excited to discover all my secrets.

I missed the little crease between his eyebrows when he couldn’t get a word on the morning crossword puzzle he did on his phone.

I missed the silence between us that never felt awkward.

I missed hearing something funny at work and looking forward to coming home to share it with him.

He paused to drag the back of his wrist across his forehead, and when he did, his shirt lifted enough to reveal a strip of his hard stomach. My mouth went dry. God, I missed that, too.

A memory hit so hard it almost stole my breath.

Rafe above me. His skin damp and warm. His abs taut beneath my fingers. The way he’d smiled down at me like he’d found something he’d been looking for his whole life.