Trading with the Boys

I stepped between him and the table, then backed up until the letter brushed my fingers. Quickly and deftly I folded it into my palm.

“You’d really do that?” I found myself asking. “You’d help me today?”

“Sure,” Cole shrugged. “After all the work we’ve done this week, I kinda need a break from that basement anyway.”

He forced a smile that Vin Diesel might make. One of those panty-melting grins I’d always loved.

“Okay then,” I smiled. “You’d be saving my life.”

“Good.”

He scooped up my two big tripods, while pulling his keys from his pocket.

“Now let’s load my truck up and get me out of here,” he winked over his shoulder. “So you can read that love letter in private.”

Twenty-Three

SERENA

The day turned out to be bright and beautiful, the bride even more so. I spent the morning taking candid shots as she got dressed with her bridesmaids, following her through the entire routine from mimosas all the way to the altar.

Between the church and the reception was my time to shine. The limo dropped us off at a beautiful mansion in front of a spectacular garden, at the exact point in the day when the lighting was perfect. Cole was there with all the rest of my equipment, unpacked and set up as best he could. It took me less than ten minutes to tweak everything. Another thirty to shoot the most amazing bridal photos I’d ever had the pleasure of taking, including romantic shots of the bride and groom walking through a field of purple flowers, holding hands on a bridge, and him dipping her for a breathtaking kiss in front of a palatial, castle-like background.

During the limo ride I managed to sneak a peek at my ‘love letter’, which was a short but sweet little note from Tate and Jacob. Although rife with humor and dripping with innuendo, they described having an incredible night with me, both inside and outside the bedroom. They also promised a raincheck on dinner and a movie, and the thought of another night like last night set off a thousand new butterflies fluttering around in the pit of my stomach.

And yet the day was won by Cole, who was absolutely amazing. He’d shown up in a suit so sharp it made me want to jump him immediately; a recurring urge I felt somewhat guilty for throughout the day. He followed the limo back to the reception and carried every last one of my cameras, switching them out and taking them back to his truck as I finished up with each stage of photography. By the time they cut the cake, we were pretty much spent. We’d had a few trips to the bar together, but as non-guests we were on empty stomachs.

“Dance with me.”

He breathed the words into my ear, plucking my primary Pentax from my tired hands and slinging it over his hip. Taking me by the wrist, he dragged me out onto the dance floor for a slow number. His strong arms were practically holding me up a

s we swayed to a song I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Whatever it was, it was old and beautiful.

“We made a damn good team today.”

Cole’s hand felt firm and comforting on the small of my back. The one holding my hand made mine seem tiny.

“I have to be honest,” I said to him. “I didn’t expect you to be this good of an assistant.”

He laughed, gruffly. “Does that mean I’m hired?”

“Will you work for peanuts?”

“M&M’s, maybe.”

He pulled me closer, until we were chest to chest. Or rather, chest to face, because the big contractor was a good foot taller than me. He smelled wonderful; musky and earthy and strong.

“I have four younger sisters,” he explained, “who grew up constantly handing me cameras. Between all their social networks and silly videos I must’ve taken ten thousand pictures of them.”

The music changed, but the song remained slow. All around me I saw tired couples holding each other. It had been a long wedding. Even the bride and groom were sitting down.

“Well I can’t thank you enough for doing this,” I said. “You saved my ass.”

Cole’s hands slid a few inches lower. His smirk broadened as he peeked over my shoulder. “Does that mean I get a look at it, then?”

On a whim I spun to face the opposite direction, holding his hands behind me. With my feet still keeping rhythm I bent at the waist, giving him a nice long look at what he wanted.

Serena!