Behind the Camera (Love through a Lens, #2)

by Chelsea Curto

He hums. The hand in my hair moves down and cups my cheek with alarming care. He tips his chin down, and his lips dance over my forehead. It’s faint. Hardly long enough to be considered a kiss in the first place, but there’s still bursts of color when he pulls away. When his eyes dance across my face and his smile hooks up on the right side of his mouth, pleased with what he sees, my cheeks burn as hot as the sun. “Not just good,” he murmurs, and his voice is deeper than I’ve ever heard it. “Fucking perfect.” I have to get out of this position before I combust. “Yay,” June says. I look up and see her holding a half-full can of paint. “I win.” Before I can register what’s happening, she dumps what’s left of the blue on us and drenches our heads. I cackle. I laugh so hard tears prick my eyes and my lungs gasp for air. “Oh my god. She’s so smart.” “June Marigold Lansfield,” Dallas says. He pushes off of me and rolls onto his back, grabbing his daughter by the waist and lifting her in the air with one arm. She squeals with glee, and I love that sound. “You are in big trouble.” “Sorry, Daddy. I said I win.” “You definitely win, JB,” I say, and I stretch my arm out to my side. My fingers brush against Dallas’s free hand, and when I go to pull away, his pinky hooks around mine, keeping me in place. “Can’t argue with that,” he says. “Except there’s not any paint on you, and that’s not fair.”