Midlife Valentine: A Later in Life Single Mom Romance
Page 21
He was just so everywhere, and all at once. The man filled up every space he entered. Throughout the photos with the bride and groom, Trey proved himself nothing but an asset. He was great with people, joking with the groom about how lucky he was to have snagged such a beautiful bride. He flattered the blushing bride, asking if she had a sister or aunt to fix him up with. The couple loved him. Of course they did, he was a lovable kind of guy. And they were at ease, relaxed and in love, which made the photos special.
“I think we’re done.” The couple blinked and then smiled at each other, and I snapped one final shot. “Okay now we’re done. Congratulations on your day and the rest of your lives.”
The bride thanked me with a hug, before the groom carried her off to the tented area set up for the reception.
Trey stood beside me, and together we watched the happy couple laughing and chatting as they faded into the distance. “I think that went well. Very well. They’re a good couple, loving and a little bit goofy. I think there’s something to that.” He scratched his chin playfully and I turned to him with a smile.
“You do?”
He nodded. “Sure. Couples who are too serious, too focused on a perfect wedding, on one day being the end-all-be-all, in my opinion, they don’t really care about each other or the marriage, just how the outside world perceives them. Those two were just focused on each other with their inside jokes and shared smiles. They’re just happy to be together and finally married so they can get on with the rest of their lives.”
Another insightful piece of information that I’d never thought about really. Not during my own wedding day, nor the dozens I’ve photographed in the past few months. “You might be on to something.”
Trey laughed and reached for a lock of my hair, twisting it around his finger. “What about you Val? I’ll bet you wore a colorful dress, probably a sundress, on the beach. Just close enough to the water so you could feel it rushing over your toes as you said your vows.”
I sucked in a sharp gasp at his words, because that was my dream wedding. It was exactly what I’d always wanted, even as little girl in a land-locked state. I sighed wistfully at the vision Trey had laid out, somehow, he had just known that was me.
“Rodney wanted a traditional wedding. We fought about it for a couple of weeks, but at the end of the day I just wanted to be married to him and I gave in to what he wanted.” I hated myself for hundreds of little compromises I’d made on things that mattered to me, especially when Rodney rarely compromised. I looked up at Trey, expecting to see judgment or possibly even scorn, but I saw neither.
He just smiled down at me like he understood. “I’ll bet you were a pretty little bride in all white.”
I laughed, the tension caused by the bad memories dissipated on the breeze that swept between us. “The dress was ill-fitting and itchy as hell.”
“You know how many times I’ve had to pretend some itchy ass fabric was like silk or cashmere on my skin? Too many times to count, but I always looked good,” he winked.
“Bragging much?”
Trey laughed and bumped my shoulder before he turned his attention to the equipment. “No, I’m saying that itchy and ill-fitting doesn’t change the fact that I’ll bet you looked great.” He hoisted up the two biggest bags and started for the car.
“Thanks Trey. You always know just what to say.”
He frowned over his shoulder at me. “That doesn’t sound like a compliment.” Silence fell between us and I wondered if I’d offended him.
We packed the equipment away, but before I could open the driver’s side door Trey stepped in front of me. “What?”
“Let’s go dance.”
I blinked and looked towards the reception in full swing. “What are you talking about? We’re working, we can’t just go steal a spot on the dance floor.”
“We’re officially off the clock. Carlotta said the bride wanted selfie shots from the family for the rest of the night,” he shot back. “She was very disapproving of the whole thing.”
I laughed. “That sounds like Carlotta.” For all of her planning expertise, she was a southern belle at heart, down to her little white gloves and poufy skirts. “All right Trey. One dance.”
His brows dipped low. “Three,” he countered.
“Two,” I shot back, unable to stop the smile that formed on my lips at just bargaining with this man.
“Deal.” Trey struck his hand out and I took it, fully prepared to shake it, but he brought my hand to his lips and brushed a soft kiss across my knuckles. “Come on. I’ll bet you dance even better than you do everything else.”