Speed Demons by Gun Brooke

paparazzi-in-training you’ll ever meet. I could’ve sold that picture for a lot of money.” Blythe grinned.
    “Yeah, you sure suck at this. Thank God.” Evie hadn’t planned it, but something so very endearing in Blythe’s expression when she wrinkled her nose while smiling made her lean forward and gently kiss Blythe’s cheek.
    Blythe’s scent wrapped around her, a fruity and flowery perfume mixed with clean sweat—altogether appealing. She inhaled it greedily, only to quickly step back when the impulse to repeat the kiss startled her. “See you tomorrow, then.” Pivoting, she hurried toward her car, not daring to look back.

Chapter Eight
     
    Blythe couldn’t get Evie’s unexpected caress out of her mind. She worked all Friday, participated in online video conferences with her business associates, edited photos, reviewed photos taken by her employees, and reluctantly wrote down some points for her acceptance speech. Still, even being this occupied, a small part of her mind skittishly recalled the feel of soft lips.
    Why had Evie kissed her cheek like that? Gratitude for helping her in the park? Hardly. And it hadn’t been a polite air-kiss either. She had definitely felt the satiny texture of Evie’s full, curvy lips. Nothing polite about it. Unless she was imagining things, Evie had surprised herself as well. Blythe had heard the soft gasp before Evie had said good-bye and taken off toward her car like wolves were chasing her.
    Checking the time, she winced. Time to get ready. The makeup artist and hair stylist waited in the connected hotel room. Blythe had tried to convince her assistant that she could get ready on her own, but that didn’t fly with any of them.
    She showered and wrapped a towel around her hair before opening the connecting door. Then she merely closed her eyes and zoned out while the two women worked on her nails, face, and hair. It wasn’t like she’d have any viable input or offer any expertise.
    “All done. What do you think?” one of the women said after what felt like hours.
    Slowly Blythe opened her eyes and turned to the mirror over the desk.
    “God.” She stared at the ethereal creature for several moments, quite certain that the reflection would shatter if she moved. They had used neutral colors to enhance her own, and somehow her eyes shone a piercing, porcelain blue. Her normally light eyelashes were darker and so were her eyebrows. She could still make out her freckles, but they were subdued, and her lips looked soft, raspberry pink, and shiny.
    Her hair was piled high on her head in an elaborate updo, with curly little tresses caressing her cheeks and neck. “Wow,” she said, and nodded appreciatively. “You did a fantastic job. Thank you.” She made a mental note to tip them generously, since they were clearly miracle workers.
    The women helped her into her dress before they left, zipping her up and making sure her appearance was flawless. The empire-cut, ice blue dress elongated her body, and the four-inch silver Louboutin sling-backs added some sorely needed height. A sheer silver knitted wrap and a matching clutch would complete the outfit. Blythe sighed at the alien sight of herself in the mirror. Not bad. At least she wouldn’t embarrass any of her staff or associates. It was ironic that the people whom the award really was about could care less about physical appearance.
    The sound of fingertips rapping on the door made her jump. She sent one last glance toward the mirror, then grabbed the shawl and clutch before she opened the door.
    Evie stood there looking more beautiful than ever. Her dark hair was swept up in a loose twist. Contrasting with Blythe’s feminine dress, Evie’s tuxedo suited her well. Blythe glanced down and saw why they still differed significantly in height; Evie was wearing black stilettos.
    “Oh, sweet Jesus. You look amazing,” Evie said, sounding breathless.
    “I never would’ve guessed you’d wear a tux,” Blythe said.