by Fiona Harper
She leaned in closer to Alex so he could hear her and pointed them out, and he picked up his camera and snapped a couple of shots.
Nicole sighed. ‘I remember dancing like that at my cousin Helen’s wedding when I was nine.’ Dad had bought her a new lilac dress with a sash and Mum had given her an Alice band with matching sparkly bits. She’d thought she was the bee’s knees and hadn’t thought twice about getting up and dancing in front of everyone. ‘At the time I thought I was as good as Janet Jackson, but now…’ She looked at the two girls, jerky and out of time on the dance floor. ‘I was probably just like them.’
Part of her wished she could return to those days, when she’d expressed herself however she wanted and no one had judged her. She sighed and looked further round the room.
The DJ was playing crowd pleasers now, and lots more of the guests, full of beer and cider and slightly warm white wine, rushed up to the dance floor to join in the ‘Macarena’. Even a couple of the uncles. One stuck his pot belly out and wiggled his hips suggestively. Alex, never one to miss a good shot, stood up to get a better view. When he sat down again, Nicole was still smiling.
‘What?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘For a moment there, that big guy reminded me of my dad. He was always the first one to do something to embarrass me at parties.’
Alex grinned and looked back across the dance floor. ‘This is my kind of party. These people…they’re real.’
Nicole snorted. ‘What are you saying? That everyone dancing at Elmhurst Hall last week were robots?’
He gave her a dry look. ‘No…And you know I think Charles and Lynette are great.’
‘That’s what weddings are about. For most happy couples it’s about living a fantasy for the day. What’s wrong with that?’
He shrugged. ‘Nothing, I suppose.’
Nicole raised her eyebrows as she surveyed the crowd of grinding wedding guests in their waistcoats and top hats and frills. ‘And you don’t think this lot are dressing up and pretending to be something they’re not?’
Alex stared at the crowd for a moment, deep in thought. ‘There’s a difference…’ he said slowly. ‘Yes, this lot get into the fantasy when they’ve got an event to go to, but this is them expressing themselves, showing on the outside something about who they think they are on the inside, and other than that there’s no pretence here.’
Nicole didn’t say anything. In a weird kind of way, Alex had a point. But this conversation was getting uncomfortable. She didn’t want to think about insides and outsides and whether they matched or not, so she decided to steer the conversation onto something else. She was supposed to be posing as a journalist, wasn’t she? So she really should act like it and ask him some questions about his job.
‘So…how did you get into wedding photography?’
He shrugged. ‘Kind of fell into it by accident. An old school friend knew photography was a passion of mine and was getting married on a tight budget, so he asked me to help out. He and his new wife loved the results and it occurred to me that instead of doing a boring office job to fund my photographic expeditions, I could do this instead. It took a few years before I could do it full-time, but I got there in the end.’
She smiled and took a sip of her lemonade. ‘So all your Saturdays are booked up for the next couple of years, are they?’
He gave her a rueful look. ‘Pretty much. I’m a victim of my own success.’
She thought about the photos at the exhibition, how beautiful they’d been. ‘And has it helped? Do you get more time to travel and take the kind of photos you love?’
Alex frowned and stared into his empty plastic cup. ‘No, actually. I don’t. The weddings fill up my calendar, especially during the summer months. I’d love to go to the Shetlands then—to catch the light on those long, almost endless days when the sun hardly sets.’
‘You said at the gallery that this was bread and butter, that you did it so you could go and do the stuff you really loved.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Have you got a photographic memory or something?’
She shook her head. For some reason she seemed incapable of forgetting even the smallest details of every meeting between them. ‘I don’t get it,’ she said.
‘Get what?’
‘Well, if this—’ she waved a hand at the packed reception ‘—is the bread and butter, then I think your sandwich is a little short on filling.’
Now he looked really confused. Obviously, humour was not her forte. ‘What I mean is…if doing the landscapes is what you love, why don’t you cut back on the weddings and make the time for it? Is it the money?’
He shook his head and thought for a moment. ‘No, it’s not the money. I do very nicely these days. I really should do just that…’
Nicole smiled in bemusement. Why hadn’t he ever thought of that? ‘If it’s your dream, why aren’t you chasing it with everything you’ve got?’
‘And that’s what you do, is it?’
She didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes.’
‘With everything?’
She nodded, then swallowed as he looked at her more intensely. ‘With everything,’ she echoed.
He leaned forward. ‘And what do you dream about, Nicole?’
He was close enough for her to smell his aftershave again. Her face started to feel warm and her stomach started to flutter. You, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t do that. For a hundred different reasons she couldn’t do that. Neither could she tell him about Hopes & Dreams, so she was kind of stuck. But she wasn’t supposed to be doing chit-chat, was she?
She looked away. ‘Can I have a go on your spare camera?’ she asked, scanning the crowd. ‘I’d like to see if I can improve on last week’s offerings.’
Alex looked at her for a long moment. She thought he was going to say something, something he shouldn’t say, something she probably wouldn’t want to hear, but then he nodded and handed her the camera body and then a lens to go with it. She snapped it into place and hung the strap around her neck.
‘Oh, I thought I ought to let you know…My friend rescued some of the shots off that card, and I managed to tidy up some of yours that will do as great candid shots.’
She exhaled. ‘Thank goodness for that! Did you save any of the first dance?’
‘A few. Mostly the long shots. The close-ups were destroyed.’
She looked down at the floor. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Hey…’
She kept her eyes on the floor. Not because she didn’t want to look up at Alex, look into those pale blue eyes, but because she really did. A little bit too much.
‘Nic?’ he said softly.
She licked her lips, took a deep breath and cast him a sideways glance. ‘Yep?’
‘It worked out fine in the end. You took a couple of great shots of Charles and Lynette later in the evening. They were dancing, looking into each other’s eyes and smiling. I cropped them down and I’ll put those with the first-dance shots when I make up the album.’
She forgot all about the safety of sideways and turned to face him full on. ‘You’re using my shots in the album?’
One side of his mouth hitched. ‘If the bride and groom choose them for the final layout. Yes.’
She shook her head and blinked. ‘Wow.’
‘They’re actually better than the close-ups I took. In those, their faces were tense, because they knew everyone was watching them. By the time you came along they’d relaxed and it was obvious that all they were thinking about was each other.’
‘Aww…’ she said, without even thinking she shouldn’t.
Alex gave her one of his knowing smiles. ‘See? I knew you were a big softie underneath all that starch.’
She blinked and looked at him. ‘Starch?’
He wiped the smile off his face, looked contrite. ‘Sorry. Didn’t mean that.’
The twinkle in his eyes called him a liar.
Nicole couldn’t fold her arms, because the camera was in t
he way, so she put her hands on her hips and angled away from him a little. She might as well pretend to be offended at his remark. Which she was—a really tiny bit. She didn’t like it when he said personal things about her. Partly because it made her think of that ill-considered New Year’s Eve kiss, but partly because it made her feel funny. Exposed. As if he could look past all the layers of varnish she’d purposely built up over the years and still see the Nicole Jasper had rejected hiding underneath, the Beta version she was doing her best to upgrade.
She didn’t want to feel like that. She needed to remember about Saffron, why she was really here. And maybe she needed to remind him too. Not that he’d done anything inappropriate. But it felt like he might. Or, even worse, that she would.
It was odd, thinking that he’d been married once, but she supposed that gave Saffron an even greater chance. He wasn’t the drifter she’d thought he was. Or hadn’t been.
She knew he probably didn’t want to talk about it, but she needed to smash this warm little bubble they’d created around themselves. How had a simple conversation about the memory card turned so personal?
‘So…if you did it a second time, would you go for one of these steampunk bashes? You seem rather taken with the whole thing.’
He gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. ‘No idea. Haven’t really thought about it.’
She swallowed. While she hadn’t expected him to wax lyrical about dress designers and party favours, surely a man who might be on the verge of getting engaged, even if he didn’t know it yet, should be a little less…apathetic…about the whole idea of marriage?
She stared straight ahead, the mass of bodies on the dance floor a blur. ‘Do you think it’s on the cards…eventually…with this wonderful girlfriend of yours?’
There. She’d said it. That should drive a couple of miles of much-needed professional distance between them.
Alex didn’t answer.
Nicole resisted as long as she could, but she had to check his face to see the reason behind his silence. Was he deep in thought about Saffron, or was he shocked at her question, or was he truly chewing the idea over? She turned her head, keeping her gaze low at first, then lifted her eyes to look at him at the last moment.
There wasn’t a hint of a smile on his face, but he didn’t look conflicted or love-struck, either. He just looked…open. As if she could read everything about him that she wanted to know in those blue eyes. That air-thickening, bubble-type sensation came back, faster, harder, enclosing her and Alex from the noise of the party. Something inside Nicole’s chest started to ache and she felt curiously short of breath.
He shook his head.
Nicole had to take a moment to remember what her question had been.
Oh, right. Marriage. To Saffron.
‘Why?’ she whispered, still unable to look away.
A weary but honest expression passed across his features. ‘I think you know why.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
‘Did you hear me, Nicole?’
She seemed to have frozen, a look of shock on her face. Alex was starting to wonder whether he should go and find a first-aider.
He was in deep now. He might as well keep digging. ‘I like you. More than I should.’
Her eyes, which were already large and round, widened further. Her mouth moved, and he thought she was going to say something. She bit her lip but she didn’t look away.
He’d spoken the truth. Nothing else. But he hadn’t realised just how true it had been until the words were out of his mouth, the thoughts and feelings he’d had for the last couple of weeks made concrete in sound.
There was no hiding from it now. No pretending he was just bantering with her as he did with other women, that it was harmless. That just made the situation all the more dangerous.
As much as he’d tried not to, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. And it wasn’t just about wanting what he couldn’t have. She’d finally started to let down those barbed-wire fences of hers, let him see her more clearly, and he liked what he saw. Tom had been dead wrong. This wasn’t the six-month thing. It was something more. But it was also something dangerous.
As prickly as she could be, he found himself talking to her, telling her things he didn’t normally share with anyone else, the things no one else thought to ask about. Not even Saffron.
He closed his eyes momentarily. He’d thought he was happy with Saffron, that what they had worked, but now…he just didn’t know any more.
He ran his hand through his hair and broke eye contact. ‘I know…’ he said, replying to the look he’d just seen in her eyes. ‘I know I’m involved with someone else. I know this is complicated.’
He glanced back at her.
‘But I also know that if what I have with her is real, then I shouldn’t be feeling the way I do when I’m with you. But I don’t want to be the kind of guy who juggles two women, who tells lies…’
He saw relief in her eyes. It made him feel as if he’d passed some kind of test.
She took a deep breath. ‘I like you too,’ she said shakily. ‘But you’re right. It is complicated.’ She shook her head and let out a little bark of dark laughter. ‘So complicated.’
A look of anger, a faint hint of disgust, tinged her expression. But it didn’t seem as if she was angry with him, thank goodness, more that she was annoyed with herself. He could understand that. He was feeling much the same way.
She looked him straight in the eye. ‘There’s so much I want to tell you, but I just can’t.’
He nodded. He understood all of it. The frustration, the regret, the feeling of loss that was creeping up on him, even though she was only standing a foot away. Even though what she made him feel both excited and terrified him, he couldn’t do anything about it. Not now. Not yet. Man, their timing stank.
But he needed something. Something more than this endless circling round each other pretending nothing was going on. It was the same feeling he got week after week, wedding after wedding. Part of him liked the routine, the easiness of it all, but another part of him yearned for the wild open spaces, for that indescribable feeling he just couldn’t seem to do without.
Suddenly that feeling came bubbling up from inside of him and pushed words from his mouth. ‘I want to dance with you,’ he suddenly said, surprising them both.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Nicole started to shake her head slowly, gave him a pleading look. As much as she wanted to, it would be like torture.
‘Just a dance,’ he said. ‘No funny business, I promise.’ He waved an arm, indicating the dance floor, where uncle was dancing with niece, cousin with cousin, all quite appropriately and platonically. ‘At least let’s have this.’
She knew she should say no, but she really didn’t have the strength. Alex must have seen her capitulation in her expression, because he unlooped the camera from around her neck, put it on an empty chair, then stood and offered her his hand. She took it and he led her to the edge of the dance floor. In the sea of Victorian fussiness, their plain clothes marked them out as a unit of two.
The chart tracks had given way to something slower, smoother. She walked into his arms and laid her head on his shoulder, turning her face away from him, unable to look him in the eyes.
They must have moved, but she wasn’t aware of it. She just closed her eyelids and concentrated on the feel of him. It was different from New Year’s Eve, when it had all been hands and lips and pheromones. She placed her hands on his chest. His circled her waist. The two of them just stayed like that. Breathing. He was solid and warm in a way that made her want to cry.
Even this was too much, it turned out. Even this wasn’t safe.
As they shuffled round the edge of the dance floor, she could swear she heard the sound of a thousand tiny cracks appearing in those layers of varnish she’d been applying to herself for years. She felt as if she were coming apart, that she wanted to spill everything she was—unedited and unfiltered—at his feet, a
nd that would never do. People didn’t like that Nicole, not as much as they liked the new, improved version, anyway. Especially men. Especially gorgeous, wonderful men.
She drew in a breath and her whole torso shuddered.
He dipped his head, so close his lips were a mere millimetre from hers. She held her breath. It would be so easy to kiss him, so easy to give in to everything she’d been feeling but had been trying to hold at bay. Her pulse thudded in her ears.
But this was more than just a kiss. This…It would change everything. Risk everything. Her whole life could be wiped away in one heady moment.
The thing that scared her most was that she was ready to do it, that she was ready to see her company crumble and fold, ready to disappoint her friends and leave them poorer, all for this one moment.
She breathed in through her mouth. She felt like a high diver on a platform, rising onto her toes, stretching her arms out wide. In a moment gravity would work its irrevocable force and pull her down.
But there was one thing she was not prepared to risk, and for that reason, although the song hadn’t quite ended, she stepped back and put some much-needed air between them. She could not let herself be hurt the way Jasper had hurt her. She could not go back to square one and build herself up from scratch again.
He didn’t argue. In fact, the nod of recognition he gave her told her he hadn’t taken it as a slight.
She walked back to where he’d left the spare camera, but instead of slinging the strap round her neck again, she handed it back to him. Then she began the speech she’d rehearsed with Peggy in their living room the night before. It had seemed so simple then, so easy and reasonable to say, but now it felt as if the words were being ripped from her body.
‘I don’t think I need to come to the next three weddings,’ she told him plainly, looking him in the eye. ‘I don’t want to let you down, but I’ve got enough material for my article, and my editor is hurrying me along. It seems they want to start the series a month earlier than planned, so I need to get on and research the next profession.’