Page 102 of I Knead You Tonight

“You mind if we chat a moment?” Randy asks. “In private.”

“Uh, sure,” I say. I look to Drew, who shrugs, having no idea what’s going on either. “Be right back.”

We walk about five yards away before he starts talking.

“Listen, Blythe and I are coming up on our fiftieth wedding anniversary, and I’d love to do something real special for her. She’s always jabbering about not having enough photos of us together, so I’d love to surprise her with a photoshoot or something like that. What do you say? Want to take a stab at something for us?”

Wait…

“You want me to…photograph you and Blythe? Like…professionally?”

“That’s what you do, right? Take photos?”

“Well, yes, technically.”

“Then you can do it?” Randy asks.

“Again, technically, I could.”

“I’m not understanding.”

Could I take photos for Randy and Blythe? Yeah, I could do that no problem.

But I don’tdophotography, at least not for people I know.

And I definitely don’t take photos of people.

The coastline is what calls to me, and it’s my main go-to for photography. Other than in Wren’s salon, there isn’t a single photo of mine hanging on a wall out there.

She pinky promised she’d never tell a soul where she got them, but I guess she let the cat out of the bag to Blythe.

Can’t blame her, though. The old lady should have a job as an interrogator. She seems to be able to get anyone to talk.

“If you’re not up for it, it’s fine. I just figured I’d ask you before I went to some other local chump.”

“I’m flattered you asked, really, it’s just…I don’t reallydophotography. It’s sort of a hobby-only kind of thing.”

He nods but looks disappointed. “I get it. Well, thanks anyway, kid. If you happen to change your mind between now and then, well, you know where I eat dinner three nights a week.”

He winks, clapping me on the back, and we make our way back to the ladies.

“What were you two gabbing about?” Blythe asks.

“We were just minding our own business,” Randy smarts.

She ignores his quip and looks to me. “Listen, son, quit being afraid to chase what you want and buck up. You did it here with Drew, finally asking her out after pining for her for so long. You can do it with your photography too.”

“Oh, we’re not—”

“I’ll take your advice to heart, ma’am,” I say, interrupting Drew.

She stares at me, lips pulled into a firm line.

Blythe’s eyes dart back and forth between us, a sly smile on her lips like something’s dawning on her.

“Interesting,” she murmurs. “Kids these days.”

“I tuned out when I saw that the cake line is finally dying down, but I agree with everything my wife just said,” Randy tells us. “I’m sure we’ll see you two lovebirds tomorrow.”

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