Belly flutters. An ache between her thighs. Wetness.
God, she wanted him.
But could she handle it?
There’d been a time—oh, say, yesterday—when she would have sworn she’d never be able to let down her guard and trust a man with her body again. Now here she was staring at a closed bathroom door and fantasizing about a man she barely knew.
You know enough. You’ve seen what kind of a man he is.
Inside the bathroom, the shower stopped.
What was she doing here? If he opened the door …
Jolted from her fantasy, she hurried out of the room.
* * *
“Ilookedthrough all the clips last night and made some obvious edits. Then I organized the photos into folders so that we can find what we’re looking for quickly.” She ran the cursor over the list of folders. “Lexi. Lexi with her parents. Lexi and Austin together. Austin by himself. Those historical shots of the inn. Scenery.”
“Aren’t you the organized one?” He leaned for a closer look, his damp hair combed into place, the clean scent of his skin like a drug. “What’s on the timeline?”
Keep your mind on the job.
“I haven’t made any changes there. I cut out dead space, all those spots where your mom had to stop because of the guy revving his engine, and that segment where you dropped the camera onto the floor.”
“Oh, that.” He ran a hand over his jaw with its day’s growth of stubble. “Sorry. Steven Spielberg I am not.”
“I think you did a great job.” She wasn’t just saying that. “I got pretty choked up watching these last night.”
“Yeah?” That seemed to please him. “You think Lexi will like them?”
“I don’t think there will be a dry eye in the room.”
“What do we do now?”
“Now you come up with a narrative.”
“A narrative? Okay. Great.” It was evident from the confusion on his face that he didn’t understand. “How do we do that?”
“You want the video to tell a story so the viewer can take a journey with you.” She clicked on a document file. “I made a list of all the interviews and jotted down some keywords for each interview. So what you need to do is decide how you want to order the them—which clip goes first, which goes second and so on.”
His brows drew together, and he blew out a breath. “I was just going to put them all together. I hadn’t thought about it as a story. It’s been so long since I’ve listened to most of these. Do you have any ideas?”
She liked seeing him like this—a fish out of water, uncertain of himself, needing help rather than giving it. “I think we should start with your mother. She talked about Lexi’s mom finding out she was pregnant.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “That’s good.”
They got to work, selecting portions of interviews and dragging them onto the timeline. Once he’d grasped the concept of narrative, Eric had no trouble deciding which segment should come next. Vic knew all the keyboard shortcuts, so she did the actual pushing of buttons. After about an hour, they had cobbled together a rough assembly of clips.
“Should we add the photos now?”
“No.” Vic rubbed the ache in her neck. “I think we should make sure we’re done editing the video first.”
“Getting tired?”
“My muscles are sore from yesterday.”
“Let me.” He moved his chair so that he sat behind her now, his strong hands replacing hers. “Just relax.”