Dancing Away With My Heart (Wishful 12)

The long ago words echoed through her heart with a stab of pain just as fresh now as it had been when it happened.

Over and done. Get it together. Stuffing her emotions way down deep, she forced herself to relax and roll on with the conversation, facing the blonde. “You’re clearly new since high school.”

Jace slid an arm around her waist and beamed. “Lexi, I’d like you to meet Tara Honeycutt, the love of my life.”

The pair of them oozed happiness and contentment, the kind that couldn’t be faked for pictures. Jace had always been so damned nice, she couldn’t resent that, even if she did feel a stab of envy. “Pleased to meet you, Tara.” A diamond flashed in the firelight. “When is the big day?”

“Weekend after next. Will you be in town? You should absolutely come,” Jace insisted.

“Of course, I’d be happy to come.”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to y’all about that.” Zach snagged a Coke from the cooler and popped the top. “Lexi’s in town for a few weeks, so I wanted to see how y’all might feel about bringing her on to help with wedding photos.”

Okay, this was not exactly what she’d imagined when Zach had offered referrals. She’d expected client meetings and formal presentations, not putting everybody involved on the spot, last-minute.

“I’m a groomsman,” he explained. “I can cover all the posed shots, but you and I both know there’s no substitute for an active photographer during the ceremony. I could make it work, but…”

“It wouldn’t be the same,” Lexi finished. She couldn’t fathom trying to be in a wedding and shooting it.

“Oh, could you?” Tara shot an apologetic look at Zach. “I know you said you could handle it, but I’ve had reservations.”

“Completely understandable,” Zach soothed.

Good thing she’d packed for work, just in case. “I’d love to help. Just let me know where and when.”

“Awesome!”

Avery offered her a beer. “So you’re here for a few weeks? Are you back for the reunion?”

Lexi bought a moment, twisting off the cap and taking her first pull on the longneck. “The reunion??

?

“You know, our ten-year class reunion,” Leo prodded.

She’d done her best to block out the fact that it was even happening. The absolute last thing she wanted was to go back to high school, even for one night. Not even with these people she’d once been so close to. “No, I’m not in town for the reunion. I’m helping out my mom. She broke her ankle.”

There were the predictable exclamations of concerns and offers to help, which Lexi neatly brushed off. It had been just her and her mom for so long, she wasn’t accustomed to taking much in the way of help. Plus, it was a point of pride that they’d managed on their own after her father’s infidelity.

“Still, it would be a shame for you not to come if you’re still here,” Avery insisted. “You’d get to see everybody from high school.”

“I’m seeing everybody from high school I actually want to see right now,” Lexi pointed out.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Jessie declared, toasting with her own bottle. “But the point, dear girl, is dressing up.”

“Dressing up?”

“The whole thing’s ending with a grown-up prom. How cool is that as a way to flash back to the good ol’ days?”

They all clearly had vastly different memories of high school than she did. Flashing back to the worst stretch of her teenage life was not how she wanted to spend an evening or even a minute. She’d done it often enough over the years without having a practical reenactment of the event.

“I’m not much one for dressing up.” And she wasn’t. The number of times she’d willingly worn a dress in her adult life for non-business purposes could be counted on one hand. She was a tomboy. Always had been. Jeans and Chucks and an assortment of vintage t-shirts were her uniform. What business did she have trying to be someone she wasn’t? That hadn’t ended well for her before.

“Seriously? Your mama is, like, the most talented seamstress in town, and you don’t take advantage of that?” Avery asked.

Lexi’s fingers tightened reflexively on the bottle in her hand. “Nope. She despairs of me, I promise. But it doesn’t make me like dressing up any better.”

Jessie opened her mouth, presumably to continue her campaign, but Zach interrupted. “Leave her be. She’s never liked dances.”