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“Absolutely not. I want the terms documented before you recover from whatever’s happened to you.”

A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “One picture. I get to see it before you use it.”

“Of course.”

“You can’t pretend I agreed to fifty if one turns out good.”

“Of course not.”

“And I’m not taking my shirt off.”

I laughed. “That’s really going to hurt ticket sales.”

He caught me around the waist when I tried to move past him. “Is that a problem?”

His voice had changed. So had the distance between us.

I put my hands on his chest. “Professionally? It’s devastating.”

“And personally?”

“As long as I get to see you naked anytime I want, I’m fine with it.”

He dipped his head low and kissed me. Heat simmered through my veins, heading straight for my core. Beau’s kisses seemed to have a consistent effect on me. I leaned in, pressing my body against his, eager to see just how far he wanted to take things.

My phone rang.

Beau lifted his head. “Are you going to get that?”

“No.”

It rang again.

He glanced toward the pile. “Might be important.”

“They can leave a message.”

The phone stopped.

I smiled and leaned back in.

Then it started again.

Beau laughed against my mouth. “I hate your phone.”

“I’m developing similar feelings about it.” I stepped away and dug through the folders until I found it. The name on the screen wiped the smile off my face.

Lauren Pierce.

I’d worked with Lauren on several events over the past two years. She’d been the one to send the email I’d paused over at Beau’s kitchen counter two mornings ago.

I answered. “Hi, Lauren.”

“Caroline. Finally.”

I moved toward the living room. “Sorry. I’ve been buried in festival prep.”

“I figured. Do you have five minutes?”