Best Man for the Wedding Planner

He laughed and lifted the small day pack he’d brought. “The running leggings I wore under my ski pants. That’s it.”

Right. He’d rented everything else. “Oh. Well. Do you want leftovers?”

She started to move to the kitchen and he reached out and put his hand on her arm. “What would I do with them? I’m staying in a hotel room,” he reminded her softly. “I know you’re flustered. It’s okay. Take a breath.”

She did, and it didn’t help. But she pretended it did, and moved away from his touch, leading the way to the entrance. “Right. Of course you are. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It took us both by surprise.”

She would have answered him back, something about it not happening again, when headlights flashed through the front windows. Forget ten minutes; the cab had only taken maybe three. She watched as he pulled on his boots and snagged his ski pants from a hook.

“Thank you. For a wonderful day and a delicious dinner.”

“You’re welcome.”

He hesitated and her breath caught in her throat as he hovered, as if unsure of what to do next. He leaned forward and placed a light kiss on her lips, leaving her stunned.

“See you soon, Delly,” he murmured, and then went out the door, closing it behind him.

She leaned back against the wall, her fingers pressed to her lips. Not “goodbye,” but “see you soon.”

They couldn’t start anything up again. They couldn’t.

But they already had. And she had no idea what to do about it.

* * *

The next morning she met Harper at her studio, a rented space on one of the town’s side streets. The storefront showcased some of Harper’s non-portrait work, and when Adele stepped inside, Harper’s assistant greeted her.

“Hi, Juny.” Adele smiled at the young woman. “Is Harper in the back?”

“She is. Wait’ll you see what she’s got.” Juny’s smile was wide. Today her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, the purple streaks adding a splash of color and revealing the small tattoo behind her ear. Juny was smart, friendly and delightfully quirky. At twenty-one, she often made Adele wonder if Harper had been the same at that age.

Intrigued by the “what she’s got” mention, Adele stepped into the back of the shop to the studio. There was a large section that Harper used for indoor portrait sittings, and another for her equipment and computer, and finally a small dark room where she did her own developing.

“Harper? You back here?”

“Hang on! In the bathroom!” came the call.

Adele wandered through the room for a few minutes, pausing to look at some of the photographs sitting on a side table. These weren’t Harper’s wedding photos; the stack held a variety of outdoor shots, some with snow, some not, as well as some close-ups and panoramic landscapes. All of them were stunning, in Adele’s eyes. Her friend had a big talent.

The door to the bathroom opened and Harper came out, a huge grin on her face. “I’m so glad you’re here! Sorry I wasn’t out right away. I brought in pastries and my fingers were full of glaze.”

“It’s okay. I was browsing.” She pointed to the stack.

Harper frowned. “Sweetie, that’s my reject pile.”

“Shut up,” Adele replied. “They’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you for saying so.” Harper came closer and slid into her desk chair. “Pull up a pew. I want to show you some shots I took last weekend.”

“Awesome. I was feeling so cruddy, I hardly remember parts of it. I take it they turned out well?”

Harper scrolled through thumbnails until she found the one she wanted and popped it up on the screen, full-size. “H

unka, hunka burnin’ love,” she said, her voice low.

It was a picture of Dan, dressed in dark jeans and a sweater, the night of the rehearsal. He had one hand in his pocket and was laughing at something Pete was saying. Adele got that strange feeling of lightness in her stomach just looking at it.