by Jane Porter
She mustered a smile. “Let’s do this.”
Unfortunately, the wedding photographer, Ted, wasn’t from Montana, but a friend of the family’s from Southern California, and Amanda suspected he was far less experienced than Brooke knew, because even though he’d arrived with cameras and meters and a plethora of lenses, he wasn’t at all prepared for the cold, icy conditions at the lake, and Ted struggled to get going, spending most of his time frowning at his screen.
Amanda stood off to the side, chewing the inside of her lip, worrying that Brooke and the girls were slowly turning to ice sculptures while Ted changed lenses yet again.
“Ted, what’s wrong?” Brooke called, teeth chattering, her six bridesmaids huddling around her like forlorn sheep, while their elaborate hairstyles sagged beneath the accumulating snow.
Amanda dashed over to the girls to deal with hair while Ted struggled to give Brooke a satisfactory answer.
“I’m just…” Ted said, and then sighed. “It’s just… the cold. The camera is fogging. It’ll be okay.”
“Alright.”
But Ted’s confidence seemed to be struggling, and Amanda told jokes to make the girls smile and laugh, hating to see them shivering in a miserable clump in front of the lake which had never looked more atmospheric with wispy clouds rising up off the surface and steady lacy flakes falling from the sky.
“You don’t have to do this,” Amanda reminded Brooke.
Brooke glanced toward her groom, Scott, who was flinging snowballs with his groomsmen. “They’re having fun.”
“They’re boys. What do you expect? Next thing you know they’ll be making snow angels.”
Brooke laughed, just as Amanda had intended, but Amanda was concerned. Ted needed to figure it out soon. She had to bite her lip to keep from giving the photographer direction, and Ted wasn’t soothing anyone’s frayed nerves by muttering about oceans and sunsets and snow not being his thing. Just when Amanda didn’t think she could handle it a moment longer, she saw Tyler approach Ted.
The whole bridal party watched as Tyler spoke to the photographer, but Tyler’s voice was pitched low so Amanda couldn’t hear what was being said. After a moment Ted’s tense expression eased, and he handed his camera to Tyler. Tyler looked through the viewfinder and then said something to Ted. Ted nodded, and adjusted something on his camera, and then they talked a little more and then Ted called out to Brooke, “Brooke, lift your flowers to your nose. Yes, just like that. Smell them. Nice. And now, bridesmaids, put Brooke in the middle, three girls on each side, and can you all walk toward me? Don’t look at me. Look at Brooke and each other. Just be natural and smile and have a good time. Forget I’m here.”
The bride and bridesmaids all had bare shoulders and their cheeks were glowing pink, but they did as Ted asked, talking and walking and laughing around their chattering teeth even as their boots sank into the powdery snow.
“That’s great,” Ted called. “Love it. How about we get a shot of those cowboy boots? Girls, all flowers to the left hand, lift your skirts up with the right hand. Nice! Now put your right boot forward, point the toes, maybe a little can-can kick. Fantastic.”
Ted snapped away, and then glanced down at his camera to check the images. He showed them to Tyler, and Tyler smiled and clapped Ted on the shoulder before leaving the photographer to do his job.
“What did you say to him?” Amanda said to Tyler as he joined her beneath a cluster of trees that she was using for shelter.
“To overexpose. Photographing snow is notoriously tricky because you can’t get a mid-tone for your meter, so he needed to set it to +2 to keep his shots from being so blue-gray. And once he adjusted his settings and focused on the pops of color out there—the bride’s bouquet, the bridesmaids’ purple gowns—the photos stopped looking so monotone. All the flat gray was rattling him, but he’s sorted it out now.”
“How did you know what to tell him? About shooting in snow?”
“I grew up doing a lot of snowboarding, and during college I got into extreme sports photography. Helped pay for bills, and let me travel at the same time.”
“How did you get into ‘extreme sports photography’? That’s not something you just get into, is it?”
“I took a video camera and began filming, and then went home and learned how to edit. The early stuff was pretty raw, but I got better over time.”
She was impressed. “That’s cool,” she said, looking at him with fresh appreciation.
“Have I finally done something to impress you?” he teased, his green gaze locking with hers, his gaze so focused and intense that she grew warm and rather breathless.
He was not innocent. He knew exactly what he was doing with that look of his. Tyler was dangerous for her self-control.
“Amanda!” Brooke shouted, interrupting the moment. “Help! I think I’ve smudged my lipstick!”
Amanda flashed Tyler a wry smile. “That’s my cue.”
While Amanda touched up Brooke and the bridesmaids’ hair and makeup a second time, Ted photographed the groom and the groomsmen. Some of the braver guys were still throwing snowballs, and pelting each other fairly hard, too.
“This is nuts,” Brooke said, sniffling, watching them with a crooked smile.
“This is Montana,” Amanda answered, giving Brooke’s wayward curl a little tug, drawing it back so that it wouldn’t fall in her eyes, but off to the side to frame her face.
“You’re a native, aren’t you?”
“How can you tell?”
“You seem to relish the cold and snow.”
“I wouldn’t say I relish it, but I’ve just grown up in it. It wouldn’t be March without snow and ice. Or April. Or possibly May.”
“Stop it!”
Amanda brushed tiny flakes off the tip of Brooke’s pink nose and then another smattering of flakes from her cheeks. “We had snow Memorial Day weekend a few years back.”
“Scott didn’t tell me any of this.” Brooke stomped her feet to keep warm. “What about your boyfriend? Is he a native, too?”
“My boyfriend?”
“Over there. Tyler. Isn’t that his name?”
“Yes. But, no, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s just in town visiting, and we’re just friends.”
Brooke arched a dark brown eyebrow. “I don’t think so. He really likes you.”
“No.”
“Have you ever seen the way he looks at you?”
“Nope, and Brooke, I think you’re good to go!”
But Brook didn’t budge. “He looks at you the way I look at meringues. Delicious.”
Amanda rolled her eyes. “Hardly, and Ted’s calling you. Time for pictures with your man before you all turn to icicles.”
“But Tyler is staying for the wedding today, right? You’re both staying for the ceremony and reception. There’s a place for you at dinner, at the reception.”
“I’m staying. Tyler is just dropping me off.”
“You have a plus one.”
“I didn’t RSVP for one.”
“I gave you one. You have to have a plus one, and he’s yours.” Brooke gave her a little squeeze. “And you can’t say no because it’s my special day.” She flashed Amanda a triumphant grin before lifting her full white skirts to march back through the snow to Ted and her groom.
Pictures over, Tyler picked up Amanda’s oversized makeup kit and carried it back to his car while she spoke to Ted about the pictures at Emerson Barn. The bridal party returned to their cars lining the road, they were shivering, and teeth chattering, but also laughing and teasing each other. He was glad to see that they were all in good spirits. The photo shoot had been frigid but fun and it had most definitely “broken the ice.”
Inside his SUV, he turned on the car and cranked up the heat so that it’d be warm for Amanda when she arrived. She opened the door a few minutes later and climbed inside, and sighed with pleasure at the warmth. “This feels so good!” She rubbed her hands and held them in front of the heater vents.
She was wearing black leggings and snow boots and a fitted black parka with a beige knit cap on top of her long blonde hair. The cap had a huge pom-pom at the end and with her pink cheeks, pink nose, and bright eyes, she looked ridiculously cute.
“I think I was picturing something much bigger.”
“Your parents never brought you when you visited your grandparents?”
“We didn’t ever visit.”
“At all?”
“Dad didn’t have good memories of Montana.”
“That’s a shame. It’s such a beautiful state. I honestly can’t imagine living anywhere else.”
For Brooke’s California family and friends, the wedding in Paradise Valley, was a destination wedding, and while she’d worried about them traveling so far for the ceremony and reception, she obviously hadn’t needed to have been stressed, not by the distance or the weather, because while it snowed off and on during the photos, her guests tramped happily through the powdery stuff from the venue’s parking lot to reach the big Emerson Barn. The guests’ excited chatter only stopped once the musicians played the first note, and then all fell silent, turning to watch as the mother of the bride was escorted down the aisle.
Amanda remained with Brooke until it was time for the bride to walk down the aisle.
“I’m so nervous,” Brooke confessed, taking her father’s arm.
Her father just patted her hand, every bit as nervous as his daughter. Amanda gave her a smile as she straightened the train on Brooke’s gown, and then fluffed the long veil. “You look magnificent,” she whispered in Brooke’s ear. “Now go enjoy yourself.”
Amanda waited for Brooke to reach her groom before slipping into the seat Tyler had saved for her. He’d taken a seat in the last row which meant she wasn’t disturbing anyone else.
Tyler smiled at her as she sat down. “Everything go okay?”
“She was nervous, but I think she’s okay now,” she whispered.
“Have you ever met a bride that wasn’t nervous?”
“No.”
It wasn’t a long service because Scott didn’t want an overly formal service, but when the sun peeked through clouds during the ceremony, illuminating the bride and groom as they said their vows, Amanda got goose bumps. It was an absolutely beautiful moment, sacred and sweet, and the golden light shone through the big barn window, gilding Brooke and Scott, until the end of the ceremony when the minister proclaimed Brooke and Scott, man and wife.
“You can’t get much more picture-perfect than that,” Tyler said as the couple processioned out.
“No, you can’t,” she softly agreed.
They talked during dinner, and talked as they sipped champagne, and toasted the bride and groom, and then talked after the cake had been cut. They talked about their families, and the things that they’d learned in life, as well as the things that disappointed them.
“What matters most to you?” he asked, as the waiter passed out the squares of wedding cake.
“Besides, this delicious cake?” she teased.
“Which do you like better? Frosting or cake?”
“Both. I like them together.” She smiled at him. “Honesty matters to me. I value honesty, integrity, and the ability to live within one’s means.” She saw his expression and she shrugged. “The opposite of catastrophe. I’m not a fan of catastrophe.”
“But you seem to enjoy chaos.”
“How so?”
“Aren’t you a bit of a rebel?”
“Actually, I’m not.” And then she understood that he was referencing her pink house. “You mean, because I painted my salon pink? I did that just because it was fun. It made me laugh. I was sure that after the shock wore off, you’d laugh, too.”
“I did.”
Amanda grinned. “But it’s been a good business decision, too.” She reached for her phone and typed in a link and showed him the article. “See? That pink paint job? The very thing you mocked? It’s gotten me thousands of dollars of free publicity. The salon has been in the paper, and on the evening news.”
He read the article, only looking up at her when he’d finished. “This article is not flattering. They said your house is tawdry and demeaning, reminiscent of a cheap paperback romance.”
“Exactly.”
“And you like that?”
“I can’t buy this publicity. The phone is ringing off the hook with new bookings. If this continues, we’re going to finally be able to expand our services, adding a masseuse and an aesthetician. By summer we’ll be Marietta’s only true day spa and salon.”
“That is impressive,” he agreed.
“Now I just need to get the mobile salon up and running and I’ll be ready to take over the world.”
He raised his champagne flute. “To a pink universe.”
She laughed and they clinked rims and then Amanda didn’t know how it happened, but the flutes were down on the table and he was pulling her toward him and kissing her, his hand in her hair, his mouth slanting over hers, making her feel a thousand wonderful things. He wasn’t just smart, with a gorgeous face. Tyler Justice could kiss. And she didn’t know if it was the champagne bubbles or Tyler’s influence, but she didn’t care that it was a public kiss, and that all of the wedding guests could see. She just wanted the kiss to go on and, oh, it did, hot, provocative, as well as maddeningly sweet. She lightly brushed his jaw with the bristle of a beard and loved how warm he felt, and wanted to be even closer than this.
“Talk about something,” he growled, breaking the kiss off. “Distract me. Otherwise I’ll kiss you again.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Only if stories get back to Gram.”
“And knowing Bette, she’ll jump ahead and start making assumptions and plans for the future.”
“You think?”
“Absolutely. Another kiss like that and she’ll be telling people we’re engaged and planning a June wedding.”
He laughed and rose, extending his hand to her. “Dance with me.”
Tyler led her onto the edge of the dance floor, not far from the huge arched window, which had been the backdrop for the ceremony earlier. There was no one in that particular spot, nearly everyone else choosing the middle of the dance floor, where it was brightly lit. It was a slow song and Tyler pulled her close, and she moved into his arms as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was, she thought, as he held her securely, his body hard and warm, strange and yet also familiar. They danced in the shadows, and it felt as if they had the entire barn to themselves, even though it was just a few feet, while outside the big arched window, huge white snowflakes slowly tumbled from the sky.
It had been a long time since she’d danced, and even longer since she’d danced with someone that made her feel like this. He was so warm, and he smelled delicious. It was all she could do to keep from nuzzling his chest, or trying to get closer to his neck, and when their steps slowed even more, so they were barely moving on the edge of the dance floor where the light was dim, and shadows crept across the old planks of the barn floor.
This, she thought, gazing out the window at the glorious world of white where the only movement was the fall of lazy, lacey snowflakes, had to be the most romantic date she’d ever had, and it wasn’t even supposed to be a date. It’d just happened.
And it just happened to be perfect.
Chapter Eight
Monday morning Tyler woke up eager for his call with Cormac Sheenan despite having spent the night tossing and turning, playing the call out in his head, trying to imagine all the different outcomes, even while cautioning himself to remain calm and cordial no matter what Cormac said.
Cormac had all the power right now and Tyler just hoped Cormac would hear him out, because there were things Tyler hadn’t done yet, games he hadn’t created, ideas he hadn’t shared. If Cormac was interested in doing something new, and developing innovative games and software, Tyler could help him get there.
After half a cup
of Gram’s tragically weak black coffee, he headed out for a run, his path taking him past the little pink house on Church Street. It was impossible for him to go anywhere without passing Amanda’s place. Her lights were on upstairs. He wondered if she was out for a run now. Just thinking about her, and the possibility of seeing her, made him run a little faster, adrenaline pumping.
He hadn’t seen her since Saturday night. It had only been a day and yet he missed her. He wasn’t used to missing people. He wasn’t accustomed to this impatient desire… the missing rather like an ache in his chest.
He loved kissing her. She had incredible lips. She had incredible eyes. When she smiled her entire face lit up, and that smile and the light in her eyes did something to him. It made him feel protective, as well as strangely possessive, and he wasn’t a possessive person. But every time he saw Amanda something inside of him wanted to claim her, and, yes, it was unreasonable because he hadn’t known her all that long, but she felt like his, and the little voice inside him whispered mine, mine, mine.
But she wasn’t his, at least not yet. And it was unlikely she’d want to be his if he acted like a caveman around her. Amanda was a gorgeous, smart, funny, kind woman, but also a very independent woman, and he was going to have to figure out a way to win her heart while keeping all the other males in Marietta away.
Amanda was approaching the courthouse on her return from River Bend Park, footsteps crunching the packed snow on the trail, when she spotted Tyler heading toward her.
She knew the moment he recognized her, because his expression changed, his hard, square jaw easing, his lips lifting in a crooked smile.
That crooked twist of his lips tugged on her heart, and suddenly she felt breathless when moments ago she was fine. And yet, she was so glad to see him. She’d half-hoped she’d bump into him on her run, and now here he was.
“Hey,” she said slowing as she approached him, her breath clouding on the cold morning air.
He stopped, too, and they faced each other in the middle of Crawford Park, each smiling a rather goofy smile for so early in the morning. “How was it?” he asked.