"I'm not contagious," I said. "And I'm not even naked. Should I be offended that you're hugging the wall?"
"Sorry." She relaxed, moving a little closer. Her blue eyes studied me. "You must be rich, right? I mean, your truck is ultra-expensive and you're a famous athlete slash model."
"I have more than enough money, yes."
"Why did you come to my little bargain-basement resort? You would've been more comfortable at a luxury club."
"I like your resort. Besides, I value privacy and friendliness more than luxury."
Her lips curved into a sweet smile. "Well, you definitely came to the right place if you're looking for privacy. We're in the boonies."
"That's part of why I chose your place for my vacation."
"What's the rest of the reason?" She winced. "Sorry, I'm being way too nosy."
"Not at all." I draped my arm across the seat back, angling a few degrees toward her. "I told you I've seen your photographs. Your talent impressed me, Eve. I've done a fair bit of modeling, and you are better than the fashion photographers I've worked with. Do you sell your pictures?"
"Yeah, on stock photo sites."
A gray head popped up behind our seat. Ruth peered over the seat back at us and winked at me. To Eve, she said, "Don't forget to tell Val about the sessions tomorrow. I bet he'd love to pose for you."
Ruth's gray head retreated.
I looked at Eve. "Sessions?"
She focused on the floor, scratching the back of her neck. "Uh, yeah, I do private portrait sessions for my guests. Nude portraits. It's an add-on. The guests who want it pay an extra fee."
"How much?"
"A hundred dollars."
"Sign me up."
Her fingers froze mid-scratch. She rotated her unblinking eyes toward me. "You've posed for famous photographers. Why would you want me to take your portrait? All those other pictures of you ought to be enough."
"Those photos weren't for me, they were for magazines and billboards." I leaned closer, lowering my voice to a whisper. "I'd like to have an intimate portrait, and I would love for you to take it."
"Billboards? Jeez, you really must be famous."
"I was, briefly. It's not important." I leaned in more until my lips hovered an inch from her ear. "Will you photograph me?"
She stared straight ahead for a minute or more until, at last, she rolled her shoulders back and announced, "Yes, I'll photograph you."
"Thank you. I'm looking forward to it."
She swiveled her head toward me, those lustrous eyes zeroing in on mine. "Me too."
For the rest of the trip, we talked about nothing of importance. She told me funny stories about her past guests, and Ruth joined in to share her own stories. Soon, everyone on the bus was chiming in with tales of the shenanigans at the resort. None of it was salacious, though the antics of the Kitten Brigade skirted the line. I was both looking forward to and dreading the day when those young women arrived.
The Pioneer Days festival was fun, but I would've preferred to have Eve all to myself. Our group stayed within sight of each other the whole time. Ruth, Sylvester, and Ollie stuck close to Eve and me. Quentin had opted to stay in the bus at Eve's suggestion. I got the impression she was growing tired of her handyman's jealousy. About damn time, I thought.
When we got back to the retreat, a delivery car from a local bistro was waiting in the driveway. Somehow, Eve had arranged to have our dinner hot and waiting for us. When I asked how she pulled that off, she shrugged and said, "The restaurant has an app. I placed an order while everybody was getting back on the bus."
She thought of everything for her guests. I wondered when she'd last done something for herself.
Naturally, I asked her that question.
"I keep telling you, it's my job to take care of my guests," she said. "My needs are last on the list."