Page 65 of Not Part of the Plan
“It’s a secret committee that spends their free time trying to pair off unwilling townsfolk to create the illusion of happiness and stability.”
“Really?” Eva’s interest was piqued.
“It’s a non-consensual matchmaking service,” Gia corrected.
“I love you, but you’re insane,” Emma told her.
“Agree to disagree. Now, let’s get back to sex with your gorgeous Russian friend,” Gia said, pushing them back on track. “What does this mean? Are you seeing each other? Is it going to happen again?”
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Niko lined up the memory cards on the island and wiped his palms on his jeans. He’d put off reviewing the wedding pictures for a day. Emma had consumed his every waking thought since that first life-altering kiss under the stars. Their stolen night together, so fresh in his mind, was a turning point for him.
And now it was time for another.
It was nerves, a fear that the flow and energy of the day’s shoot had resulted in shit.
But there was only one way he’d find out. Niko shoved the first card into the slot on his laptop and drummed an impatient beat on the granite while the images loaded.
Was it just him, or was the house too quiet?he wondered. The twins were at daycare, Carter was outside running a new fence line, and Summer was hibernating in her office masterminding magazine matters.
He opened a playlist, and eighties metal drowned out the silence.
The pop-up on his screen told him the images had successfully uploaded to his cloud. “Let’s see what we’ve got,” he murmured to himself.
Diving in, he clicked at random, opening a ceremony shot.
It wasn’t bad.
Phoebe was laughing at something the minister was saying while her sons were peering over her shoulder. Franklin, smiling his biggest smile held her hand, while his daughters laughed. There was some life there. If he were editing, he’d sharpen the focus on Phoebe and Franklin and soften the rest. Maybe go grayscale and up the contrast.
“Okay, one acceptable shot,” he muttered. “What else is in here?”
The next was better and the next even better than both of the previous. “Now we’re talking.”
He grabbed that one, a shot of Phoebe and Franklin looking deliriously happy on the dance floor, and played with the highlights until he was satisfied. One down and three to go before Phoebe’s request was fulfilled.
He lost track of time and count of the images he’d pulled for editing. There was one of the brothers ranged around the bar in easy camaraderie, a round of beers in their hands. There was another of Phoebe dancing with Beckett, his forehead resting on hers as they grinned at each other. Another of Franklin surrounded by his daughters as they all hoisted flutes of champagne skyward.
There was another that tugged at him. Franklin and Emma taking a turn around the dance floor. He’d caught them over the shoulders of other dancers and sharpened the focus, blurring everyone else to isolate them. Franklin smiled tenderly at Emma. But it was Emma’s face that went straight to his heart. Tears in her eyes and a tremulous smile on her sweet lips. It was a beautiful moment between father and daughter, one that could be treasured forever now.
He hit pay dirt with another ceremony shot. Their heads bowed in a spontaneous moment of remembrance, Jax’s hand resting on Beckett’s shoulder, Beckett’s on Carter’s. A bond of brotherhood and grief and hope for the future. Emma, her own eyes glistening, handed tissues to her sisters behind her. Phoebe and Franklin squeezed hands and bowed their hands.
No one could look at that picture and notfeel.
He sat back, rolling his knotted shoulders. He’d already edited twenty shots that were damn good. But there was one more he wanted to see. The very first shot of the day.
He scrolled to it and opened the file.
Emma.
He’d captured her mid-twirl, looking over her slim shoulder at him, the blush of her dress highlighting the happy flush of her cheeks. The green of her eyes didn’t need enhancing as they sparkled with joy. Her lips, glossed and pink curved in feminine knowing. Her hair, a fiery red under the spring sun, flowed out with the momentum of her turn. She looked like a fairy princess who would lead him down a forest path and never let him escape. She was luring him in, and he was too enamored to be afraid.
He stared as if hypnotized by emerald eyes and the smile that promised a life of laughter. He was still staring when his phone rang next to him.
“Yeah?”
“Hello to you, too.” Amara was too used to dealing with temperamental talent to take offense to a brusque greeting. She’d been his agent for three years now and had landed him every dream gig he could have envisioned. And never once complained about a thing.
