Bex was already awake, slipping out of Gabe’s bed and pulling her hair into a messy ponytail before Gabe cracked his eyes the next morning.

“Where are you going?” he asked, swinging his legs out of bed. His face was still half-numb from his pillow, and his words came out sleepy and muffled.

Bex stepped toward his side of the bed wearing little more than a pair of underwear and a strapless bra. “As much as it’s tempting to stay here all day, some of us have to show up at work.”

Gabe stood and grabbed her by the butt to pull her close. “I have to show up at work, too,” he countered, nipping the end of her nose.

Bex smiled and rolled her eyes. He was glad that she’d been able to fall back asleep after last night’s dream. This morning the tension seemed to have evaporated, and she came back to him like a breeze, like a citrus-scented sky.

“Oh yeah? You’ve got a shoot today?”

“A product shoot for a dog food company.”

“Bow-wow,” she laughed, pulling away from him to reach for her clothes.

“Hey, woman. Don’t mock what pays the bills. There are going to be some very happy bitches at my shoot today.”

Bex gave a mock gasp and slid her dress over her head. “You’d better mean dogs, ace. Anyway, all my clothes are back at my house. So I’ve got to run home before work.”

“You could do the walk of shame today.”

She waved at her body, sheathed in that tight white dress. “Not so sure this screams, ‘Trust me, I can design your award-worthy sex toys.’”

Gabe trailed his eyes over her body and smirked. “Actually, it completely does.”

Bex swatted his arm, and he kissed her, slapping her butt before letting her go. She stepped into her high heels and turned to him. “By the way, thank you for last night.” She drew a shaky breath. “I know I’m not always easy to deal with, but it means a lot to me.”

“No one’s perfect, Bex. I’ve got my own fair share of baggage. But we’re in this together.” He cleared his throat. “Speaking of being together, when you do go home, do me a favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Make sure you don’t use those toys without me.”

Bex narrowed her eyes and cocked her head with a smile. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

They were playing a game, and with this simple request, Gabe had just changed the rules. After last night he needed to know that Bex trusted him enough to pivot with him. “If you’re serious about innovating, you need some fresh ideas, not the same old toys you’re used to.” So what if that was an excuse?

“The same old award-winning toys, you mean?”

Gabe held her gaze and laid his cards on the table. “I want all of your pleasure, honey. Let me give you everything you ask for.”

Bex’s soft laugh echoed in the room. “That’s a tall order.”

“I know, but I want you hot and greedy for me.” There was no better feeling in the world. He lowered his voice and smiled as her breath sucked in. “You know I always aim to please.”

“Francie, over here. Francie, look this way, sweetheart.”

Francie aimed her liquid brown eyes at Gabe and licked her chops. Then she tossed her head and shuffled in the opposite direction.

“Francie, come.”

Dear god, he was sweet-talking an eighty-pound ball of gray and white fur. The Old English Sheepdog dragging her lumpy ass across the pristine white floors of this rented studio couldn’t give two shits about Gabe or his camera or the fact that he had to deliver this dog food campaign with just ten minutes of shooting time left in today’s session. The dog had no interest in touching the very food that Nature’s Choice Dog Food had hired her to sell, and she oozed around the set like molasses. The fact that she was about ninety percent fur was part of the problem. No matter how good the air conditioning was inside this studio, if Francie ever stepped outside to do her business, she’d probably keel over from heatstroke. No wonder she moved like a sloth.

Francie’s owner, Patty, was just as out of it as the dog. “Francie rhymes with Fancy,” Patty cooed. She squeezed a dog toy shaped like a weasel, and the rubber squealed in Gabe’s ears, sending his brain into spasms. If he never had to hear that sound again in his life, it would be too soon.

At least Francie perked up at the squeal, whuffling her way forward to shove her nose into the bowl of dog food that she’d patently ignored for the last fifty minutes. Thank god, because Gabe was one step away from lacing the food with hamburgers from the drive-through across the street.

Snap.

He kept his eye on the viewfinder, clicking away while Francie had her way with the bowl of kibble.

“And, cut!” he said.

The dog had the grace to wait until after Gabe stopped shooting to piss on the floor.

He shook his head. Maybe photo shoots with Las Vegas showgirls weren’t so bad after all. At least the chance of them performing some bodily function on set was less than fifty percent.

Gabe left Patty to the cleanup, walking across the room to strike one of his softboxes. His phone buzzed as he began folding the flash diffuser.

“Gabriel Marx,” he said.

“Just who I was looking for,” the voice announced. “Gabriel, this is Angelica Feng. I manage the Trailblazer Gallery at the Renegade Hotel. Derrick Fisher left a message and mentioned that you might have some business to discuss with me.”

Gabe’s chest lightened. He hadn’t been sure that Derrick was going to come through, especially after Bex had fled right in front of him. He’d have to buy the guy a drink. Was that even a thing—buying a guy a drink who worked in the beverage industry? If not, he would buy the guy a burger. Or something.

“That’s right,” he said. “I’m a local photographer whose work has been featured in a bunch of national and international magazines and blogs. I’ve been working on a solo exhibit for some time now, and I’d love if the Trailblazer would consider hosting the show.”

“Hmm, photographs?”

“Yes.” Gabe’s voice sounded desperate, but he needed this. For himself, and now also for Bex. He needed to be the artist he knew he could be, for her sake.

If Bex had been worried about him hanging out with some bitches today, she had no reason to fear. Even if the bitches had been human and not canine, he was still so irrevocably hers. There was no comparison between anyone else and Bex. He just needed to keep on proving that to her. “I’d be happy to bring a portfolio by to show you,” he told the gallery manager. “I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

“That sounds excellent,” Angelica said. “Tell me, what day should we pencil into the calendar?”