by Lisa Childs
This was where being prepared came in handy. “Not really. I had the camera set up to do time-lapse, and all the shots should have been transferred to my laptop if the Wi-Fi isn’t moving on island time.”
“Good to know,” he muttered, his eyes on the camera in her hands. “What were you shooting?”
“Not what you were shooting.” When he gave her a lopsided grin, she told him the truth. “Sunrise pictures. Romantic stuff for my wedding blog. Brides will love having their pictures taken up here. I’m shadowing a wedding later this week, and the bride already picked out this spot for her photos. They’re a gorgeous couple.”
She whipped open her planner and flipped to the section where she’d jotted down her notes for the beach wedding. There were certain shots she definitely wanted to make sure she captured, and she did better with a list.
“This is my bride and groom. He’s a hottie. My blog readers will love him.”
Mason took the groom’s picture from her. “This is your guy?”
“Uh-huh.” She’d been in correspondence with Julieta, the bride, more than once before she’d arrived. The Mrs. Guzman-to-be was a pretty blonde, while her groom had the Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome part down. He rocked a white linen suit in the photo Julieta had sent to give Maddie an idea of what they’d be wearing and, if he showed up looking like that, her photos would be outstanding. “What do you think?”
Mason snorted. “Not my type, sweetheart.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Well, Mr. Guzman clearly appeals to the future Mrs. Guzman, and that’s all that counts.”
“They here on the island already?” He returned the photo and she stuck it back in her planner.
“Not yet.” Which was both surprising and not. “ Julieta’s dress is here—that’s the bride-to-be—but I haven’t actually seen them check in yet. Mr. Guzman runs some kind of import-export business and has stuff come up at the last minute all the time. Maybe he had a business thing. It must be nice to have a private plane and go where you want, when you want.”
“Maybe.” Mason gestured at her tripod. “You done here? Want a hand bringing this back to your villa?”
“A hand down the hill would be great,” she said, still thinking about her missing bride and groom. She’d been counting on shooting their wedding for her blog; if they were no-shows, she’d need to make alternative arrangements. “Maybe I’ll see if his brother has arrived yet. Ask him if Mr. Guzman’s plans have changed.”
Mason started breaking down her tripod. “He’s bringing family to his wedding?”
She shrugged. “Just his brother, Santiago, according to Julieta. He was planning to get to the island a few days before her, so she was hoping to pawn some of the prewedding tasks off on him. He should have arrived yesterday or today.”
She let him help her fold up the tripod, and then they headed toward the path that led back to the resort. Since the sun had risen, the lighting was no longer ideal, and she now had a date with her bed. A date that would be even better if Mason followed her home. No. He wasn’t a stray puppy. She didn’t get to bring him home.
He strode ahead of her, so she followed along, admiring the way his cargo pants bunched over his butt as he walked. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him—and she’d definitely take a rain check on those pancakes.
Copyright © 2016 by Anne Marsh
ISBN-13: 9781488000010
Red Hot
Copyright © 2016 by Lisa Childs
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