My gaze flicks around my one thousand square foot townhouse and I sigh again, rubbing my hand over my face. It’s a quintessential bachelor pad complete with the signature black leather couch and it’s even more depressing than Smith’s announcement. I peel my jacket off and toss it on one of the dining room chairs before turning to the fridge and grabbing a beer. As I sink into the couch, I grab the remote and kick my boots off before flipping through the channels. A baseball game catches my eye and I toss the remote to the cushion next to me and take a sip of my beer. My vision blurs. I drop my head back and close my eyes, rubbing them as I yawn. An image of Piper fills my mind almost immediately. Growling, my eyes snap open and I down half my beer as a commercial for a dating site flashes across the TV. I snort.
“There’s no way in hell,” I mutter, shaking my head. I’m not too proud to admit that I’m desperate for my dream to become a reality but I’m not that desperate. Finishing off my beer, I stand up and trudge back into the kitchen to grab another one before plopping down on the couch again. The game helps me turn my brain off and I drink three more beers before glancing at the stairs and telling myself I should go to sleep. The commercial for the dating site comes on again and I turn back to the TV. Maybe it’s the five beers making my brain fuzzy but I don’t have the same reaction to it that I did last time. Instead, I’m left wondering… why not? My brows draw together and before I know what I’m doing, I have my phone in my hand and I’m typing in the website.
“Jesus Christ,” I whisper to myself as I click the sign-up button and the application flashes across my screen. “I’m not really doing this.”
Glancing up at the TV, a gorgeous brunette models shampoo but in my head, all I can see is Piper - her pale skin, rosy cheeks, smokey green eyes, and long dark red hair as she straddles my lap and takes my cock inside her.
“Fuck.”
I chug my beer and set the bottle down on the coffee table before holding my phone in front of my face and start filling in my information before uploading a photo of myself. When I’m finished, my thumb hovers over the submit button and I suck in a breath. I blow it out as my stomach flips and I press the button. The page refreshes and my profile stares back at me as I shake my head.
Fuck it.
What’s the worst that could happen?
Chapter Two
Piper
The familiar chords of Canon in D by Pachelbel begin to play, drifting across the manicured grounds of the plantation, twisting between the sprawling branches of the massive oak trees scattered around the plantation and float across the gleaming water as every guest in attendance stands and turns toward the back of the house, waiting for the bride to make her first appearance. Ignoring her, I focus my lens on the man waiting for her at the other end of the aisle and start snapping photos, one right after the other in rapid succession and the moment he sees her, his eyes widen and his jaw drops. Tears well up in his eyes and I grin as warmth radiates through my body and I continue snapping photos. Most people like to watch the bride walk down the aisle when they come to a wedding and Eden, my business partner and best friend, will make sure we get plenty of shots of her but my favorite part of any wedding we’re hired to photograph is to watch the groom’s expression as soon as he sees his bride for the first time. Whether he smiles, stares at her in awe, fights back tears, or bawls like a baby, it’s always magical and it reminds me of a time in my life when I had the same thing.
Pushing away those memories, I continue photographing her walk down the aisle and when she reaches the altar, I move to the middle of the aisle and creep forward to continue capturing their ceremony. I glance over to my side as Eden works her way around the outside of the guests to get an even better angle of the groom’s face as the preacher begins speaking. Staring up at the couple, I notice their hands intertwined and snap a couple shots of that before moving the camera up to their faces. The dress our bride chose embodies classic southern elegance and it’s molded to her body like a second skin, showing off her curves as she stares up at her groom, her eyes shining with unshed tears. It would be a killer shot if I could just find the right vantage spot… scanning the outskirts of the property, I notice a tree that would give me the perfect angle and I rush back to my equipment, swapping out my lens for a longer one before motioning to Eden. She glances over to where I’m pointing and smiles with a nod.
After securing my camera around my neck with the strap and kicking off my heels, I jog around the outside of the seating area, ignoring the disapproving looks from the older guests as I loop my hands around the lowest branch and pull myself up as discreetly as possible. Wedding photography is a delicate balance because each couple wants that perfect shot that they will proudly hang in their home for the rest of their lives but I also have to be careful not to be a distraction and sometimes, that’s easier said than done. Especially when I’m doing something crazy like climbing a tree to get the right angle but if it works… it will be glorious.
With my heart thundering in my chest, I climb the tree as quickly and quietly as possible before situating myself on one of the branches and bringing my camera to my eye and grinning. Just over the groom’s shoulder, I can see the bride’s face as he begins reciting his vows and I start snapping, capturing each and every emotion that flits across her face as a few tears spill down her cheeks and her smile nearly splits her face. Love shines in her eyes and it smacks me in the chest. I suck in a breath as pain blossoms where my heart should be and branches out through my body like a virus. Fighting back tears of my own, I keep shooting, trying frantically to focus on the job at hand instead of the source of the agony ripping through my body.
As the bride begins reciting her vows, Eden crouches down on the other side of them and I climb back down the tree as quickly as possible so I can get set up for their first kiss. Once I’m on the ground again, I jog around the crowd to the back of the aisle and creep forward before dropping to my knees and training my lens up at the happy couple.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the preacher declares. “You may kiss your bride.”
The groom flashes his new wife a wide smile as he hooks an arm around her waist and pulls her onto his lips before dipping her and the crowd whoops and hollers around me. Grinning, I snap several photos and an image of Wyatt smiling at me flashes through my mind before I can stop it. God, I love his smile. When we were married, it was one of my favorite things in the world but now it only serves as a reminder of everything I’ve lost… everything I walked away from. Shaking my head, I push the emotions down as I start backing up, snapping photos constantly, as the bride and groom clasp hands and begin walking down the aisle toward me, beaming at their guests and each other before turning to me to flash me a grin. When they get to the end of the aisle, they turn to each other and kiss again and I snap a couple more photos before moving to the table Eden and I set up to organize all our equipment.
“Wait until you see the photo I snapped of you climbing that damn tree,” Eden says as she walks up to me and I scoff as I shake my head.
“Whatever. As long as the client is happy.”
She nods. “Did you get a good shot?”
“You think I climbed a tree and missed the shot?” I ask, clicking over to the photos I took today and flipping to the one I snapped up in the tree before showing it to her. Her lips part in a silent gasp.