A smile crossed my face and I grabbed at the ends of my hair. “Sorry we had to cut the night short.”

He was silent for a few seconds before saying, “Just tell me that won’t be the last time I see you.”

“As long as it’s not a date,” I teased.

“Never. I was thinking more of a distraction.”

“I like distractions.”

“So do I.” His gruff tone had my eyes shutting and a shiver running down my body. “Get some sleep.”

“You too.”

“Good night, Reagan.”

I hung up, and placed my phone on the nightstand. Just as I got comfortable in my bed, my phone vibrated.

Pulling up the text from Coen, I laughed out loud when I saw the three images. One was a screenshot of the cast of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles; right in the center was the man who played Casey. The second was of him now. The third was a list of his movies, and right there was the title Shutter Island.

I’m going to act like I never saw that. He’s still Casey in my head.

Coen Steele: Denial is a bitch.

Putting my phone back on the nightstand. I closed my eyes and went to sleep with a smile on my face.

Chapter Four

Coen—­August 25, 2010

“CHIN DOWN JUST a little bit more. Eyes right at me. Mouth a little softer . . . perf—­”

“Damn, Steele!”

I straightened from the position I’d been in and turned, my mouth already curving up in a smile.

“If this is what you do all day, no wonder you wanted to get out so bad.”

Slapping Hudson’s hand when he approached me, I just shrugged. “Well, seeing how it’s a Wednesday night and you’re not on base . . . I can only guess that means one of two things.”

He held his hands out to the side and smirked. “Civilian status, bitch!”

“Really, man? Congrats. Let’s go grab a drink when I’m done, we only have a few more minutes.”

Hudson flopped down into a chair and grinned. “Don’t let me stop you.”

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my client. She was already only covered by her underwear and an unbuttoned shirt, but now with Hudson sitting next to me, her eyes were glued to him and she was pulling her unbuttoned shirt wider.

“Eyes back on me,” I said for the third time since he’d come in. “Stop biting on your lip. Stop eye-­fucking Hudson. He’s taken.”

Standing, I glared over at Hudson and kicked his leg as I pointed to the door. “Get the f**k out.”

“Hater,” he mumbled as he stood and left the studio.

Looking back at my client, I raised an eyebrow at her. It wasn’t my place to remind her she was doing this shoot for her husband. “All right, you ready for the ones on the couch?”

After we were done with the shoot and she was fully dressed again, I yelled out for Hudson as I flipped through the pictures I’d gotten.

“We got a ton of great shots,” I told her as I continued to look through my camera. “I’ll work on these and send you the best in a few days, all right?”

“Perfect! Thank you so much for this, I hope he likes them.” She straightened up when Hudson came closer to us, and I stopped going through the pictures to watch them.

“Taken.” I reminded her when she gave Hudson a look I knew Erica would kill her for.

“Right. Well, you both have a good night.”

As soon as she was gone, I pointed at the door and glared at Hudson. “Married.”

“Eh.” He made a face like that fact had just made her lose all appeal.

“Exactly.”

“It’s not my fault they want this.” He said seriously and waved a hand down his body before busting up laughing.

“I don’t know how Erica puts up with you.” I turned and put my camera away before going to turn everything off.

“You know I wouldn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, and you and I both know she wants to chop your dick off every time you look at another girl. I fear for your life the day she sees you hitting on another chick.”

He sighed. “I don’t hit on them. Did you hear me trying to pick up on that girl at all? No. And she was asking for it. They want to look at me, I’m not going to stop them.”

I snorted. “All right. If that’s how you see it. Just ask Erica to give me time to get there to save your sorry ass before she decides to kill you one of these days. Come on, let’s go grab a beer.”

“Uh, actually . . . meeting up with my family at a restaurant tonight, but I stopped by because I wanted you to come. We haven’t talked much since you got out, and I figured after dinner we could chill and catch up.”

“Your family?” I stopped walking.

“Yeah. Knowing you, I bet you don’t leave your studio or condo except to get from one to the other. You’re probably eating nothing but ramen noodles. You probably only talk to the ­people whose photos you’re taking. And I just know you’re not sleeping. So I want you to come have actual food. Talk to ­people about other things . . . you know, normal night out.”

“Uh . . .” I still hadn’t moved from my spot. It’d been five days since Reagan came to my apartment. We’d talked every day, but I hadn’t seen her again since. “Is your sister going to be there?”

“Obviously.” Hudson shot me a weird look before understanding crossed over his face. “Swear to God, she won’t freak out on you or me this time. I’ll have you two sit at opposite ends of the table if it’ll be better.”