Love Out of Focus

by Rebecca Connolly

  She tilted her head to kiss him softly, then buried her face in his shoulder, and he held her for a long while, the sunrise unnoticed by either of them.

  She eventually stirred and smiled at him. “Have I ever told you how ridiculously good you smell?”

  He grinned. “Really? What do I smell like?”

  Her smile turned impish. “A man.”

  “Well, good. I would hate to smell like something else.” He looked up at the sky. “I should get you back and let you get ready. We get to spend all day together.”

  “Do we?” she asked, taking his hand and letting him lead her back to the truck.

  “Lake Day,” he reminded her. “We rented the tour boat and reserved it for the party only. Fun in the sun on the water with a fully stocked bar and concessions.” He stopped and turned to look at her with a suggestive lift of his brows. “What kind of swimsuit do you wear, Mallory?”

  She laughed and shoved at his chest. “I will be fully clothed at all times, dude. Best thing I can say is I might wear shorts, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll get a glimpse of my shoulder.”

  Hunter gasped dramatically and clamped a hand on his chest. “I don’t know if I can take it …”

  Mal rolled her eyes and got into the truck before he could get the door for her. He chuckled and got in himself. He opened his mouth to say something when Mal suddenly turned to face him.

  “Did you call me baby out there?” she demanded, looking a touch irritated.

  He clamped his lips together on a laugh, then returned her look with one of his own. “You would prefer muffin? Or maybe pumpkin? Snookums? How about my little kumquat?”

  Mal winced and rubbed at her forehead where the beanie sat. “Fine, fine, call me whatever you want, but nothing stupid or cheesy. And absolutely nothing in front of the others, you got that?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said as he started the truck.

  “And keep your gorgeous megawatt eyes to yourself,” she muttered. “I need to have brain capacity in public.”

  Hunter smirked and backed the truck up. “Yes, dear.”

  Hunter behaved himself rather well on the boat. It was Mal, actually, who was having trouble. She couldn’t stop staring at him. Whether that was his fault or hers, she couldn’t be sure. He knew the effect he had on her. His near-constant smirk told her everything.

  He was more dressed up than the other men, but still far more casual than Mal had seen him before. A pair of well-loved blue jeans, Sperry’s, and a white button-down that hung open and rolled at the sleeves with a white tank top underneath. His hair was disheveled by the wind, his scruff was alluring, and he wore his Ray-Bans the entire time, which honestly did nothing to lessen the intensity of his eyes.

  She knew when he looked at her. Her entire body lit up when those eyes hit her. And she got very, very warm—warm enough to take off her oversize peach T-shirt and go with the double-layered tank tops underneath.

  Hunter smirked broadly at that, but thankfully stayed on his side of the boat. She stayed as far away from him as she could bear, hanging near Taryn and Dan whenever she could. Obviously, they had to separate at times to get pictures of different things and at different angles, but they stuck together as the outsiders of the group.

  Taryn found great enjoyment in Mal’s behavior and took it upon herself to point out various things to her. “You’re drooling,” she said with a snicker as she made her way behind Mal.

  “So would you, if you had him,” Mal bit back, her mouth curving.

  Dan choked on his drink and marked an invisible tally in the sky while Taryn grumbled under her breath. Mal glanced around and saw, to her surprise, that Reed was away from the rest of the group, sitting in a lounge chair with a pencil and notebook in hand.

  The Hollywood heartthrob wasn’t trying to get with any of the bridesmaids? That was odd. She wandered in his direction, covering with the camera and new angles, knowing Hunter’s eyes were following her. She glanced at him occasionally, and his attention was riveted on her.

  Yikes.

  Reed didn’t seem to notice her coming, his notebook propped up against his bent knee, tanned skin contrasting with the white pages. He was shirtless, like most of the guys, and she was woman enough to appreciate the fine show of muscle on display. His dark hair tousled in the breeze, flapping against the sunglasses on his face, and she restrained the impulse to take a picture. Nobody needed more shirtless pictures of Reed Summerfield in the world. Except maybe Taryn, and she would already have taken twelve.

  “Hey, picture lady,” Reed said quietly when she was close enough, still focused on his paper. “Come to get the money shot?”

  Mal snorted and pointedly turned her camera toward the back of the boat. “Yeah, the houses on this side are amazing.”

  “Ouch.” Reed paused to rub a hand over his heart but didn’t sound wounded at all. “She bites too.”

  “Reflex,” she replied, snapping a few more photos. Then she turned back and saw, to her surprise, that he was sketching. She moved closer and peered over his shoulder, looking from the group of people near the front of the boat, then back to his paper. He was sketching all of them, and he was good.

  Really good.

  “You sketch?” she asked, lowering her camera and leaning on his chair.

  He shrugged. “When I’m bored. Or stuck. Habit from hours on set as a kid with nothing better to do.”

  His voice was flat, but she had the sense that the Summerfield family had been less of a family and more of a corporation. That couldn’t have been easy for a kid to grow up in.

  “Well, it’s good,” she told him, straightening. “Like, seriously good.”

  For the first time, he looked up at her. “Yeah? Not just saying that?”

  She gave him a look. “You need me to tell you it’s good?”

  “You don’t seem the type to try to flatter me, so yeah.”

  She smiled at that. He was right; she wouldn’t. “It’s good, Reed.”

  He flashed a smile of too-perfect teeth that probably would have made other girls light headed. “Thanks.” He looked back down at it and flipped a few pages, showing her more. “People are easy, once you get the hang of it. I tried landscapes for a while, but I couldn’t get it right.”

  “It’s a struggle,” Mal agreed with a nod. “I’ve got it easy with the camera, but I still miss tons.”

  Reed shook his head. “Not easy, Mal. You’ve got it harder. You’ve gotta catch what we’re already seeing but make it different, make it more. You have to change what we think we see.” He shrugged. “I can’t draw trees and rocks. I’m much better at pretty girls.”

  She chuckled in spite of herself. “Do you draw dirty pictures, Reed?”

  He looked up at her with a jaunty smile and a raised brow. “You offering?”

  That made her laugh, and she shook her head at him. “No, sir.”

  “I know,” he said, still smiling. “Just joking.”

  He went back to work, and Mal watched him for a moment, intrigued by the detail he put into Sophie’s hair, and what a difference the detail made to the sketch. He knew what he was doing, despite his nonchalance, and that intrigued her too. There was a deeper side to this guy? Did anybody know that? Somehow, she doubted it.

  “You’re not as bad as I thought you’d be,” Mal murmured, fidgeting with her camera strap.

  Reed glanced up in surprise. “I’m usually considered much worse.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m willing to bet you don’t let your guard down much.”

  His lips twitched, and he pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head. “Same to you, picture lady.”

  They shared a small smile, and Mal wondered whether her perception of rich people ought to be reconsidered.

  “Wanna get a drink?” Reed offered, tilting his head toward the bar. “Totally platonic, I promise.”

  Maybe not.

  The words were sincere, his tone even, but there was a very rich, very intense man with skin-s
corching looks that would take exception to that drink, platonic or not.

  “I’m, uh … sort of, uh …” Her cheeks were starting to heat, and she prayed he would think it was a sunburn.

  “Spoken for,” growled a low voice from behind.

  Mal stiffened and glanced back to see Hunter watching them both, about three feet behind her.

  Reed slowly raised a brow at Hunter, then looked back at Mal. “Right,” he drawled, not sounding disappointed or surprised. “Three’s a crowd.” He tapped his sunglasses back onto his face and shrugged. “I’ll keep sketching bridesmaids I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole.”

  A guy with his reputation saying that? She had a hard time believing it. “Grace is okay,” she told him. “Nice girl.”

  He snorted and waved her off. “Yeah, all the more reason not to touch her. It’s me.”

  Mal frowned, moving back toward the others, inhaling sharply when Hunter subtly stroked her back as she passed him.

  “Please don’t play with fire, baby,” he murmured, moving back toward his former spot. “I’m the jealous type.”

  Gah. She swallowed and lowered her head, pretending to look at the screen on her camera.

  Too much. Much too much.

  “Honey, Sophie is about to shoot lasers at you,” Taryn muttered when Mal got back. “And she’s gonna need Botox for the wrinkles she’s forming.”

  Mal glanced over at Sophie, who looked like she could have spat at her. She’d warned Mal off of Hunter yet again when they got on the boat, and even gone so far as to remind Mal that he was someone else’s property, but Mal hadn’t felt particularly inclined to listen. She sighed and adjusted the camera straps. “Well, I can’t help it that he likes me and not her, even when she does her best to show off her crazy trim legs.”

  “Might be crazy trim, but your calves are much nicer.”

  Mal turned to look over her shoulder at Lucas, who was now by the bar getting a drink.

  He shrugged helplessly. “I’m your cousin, but I have eyes. Denim cutoffs are a nice look for you, kiddo.”

  “Don’t call me kiddo. I’m older than you!” she protested, ignoring his compliment entirely.

  Lucas grinned and stood to his full height, looking down at her pointedly. “Yeah, but you’re tiny. I win.”

  Mal rolled her eyes and took in the group without her lens for the first time in hours. Caroline and Jenna had followed her style, wearing their swimsuits under their clothes. Grace and Sophie had opted for sundresses, though Sophie’s was a crocheted number with a skimpy bikini beneath. The other three were stripped down to reveal part or all of their swimsuits and were more interested in tanning than socializing. Most of them wore oversize hats as well.

  The guys were all shirtless except for Lucas, Hunter, and Tom. Taryn was having a field day there. Dan and Lucas sat at a table nearby, both wearing backward baseball caps, more interested in the baseball game on TV than anything else on board. Dan was mouthy enough as it was, but if he started hanging out with Lucas? That would be trouble.

  Jenna suddenly met her eyes and smiled. There wasn’t anything to do but smile back, and Mal lifted her camera in a silent question.

  Jenna nodded and pulled Tom closer, and their interaction was so intimate that Mal started snapping shots before they were ready. These were the moments she lived for as a photographer—the unplanned, spontaneous, natural moments that capture the essence of a person or a place. The artistry of her subjects was always revealed in these unexpected glimpses into life as they knew it.

  She managed to get a few shots of the world’s most perfect couple, earned herself a familial wink from Tom, and then took a few random shots of everyone else before setting the camera down and finding herself a drink.

  “Taryn?” Sophie suddenly called in her fake-sweet voice. “The sun is hitting me perfectly right now. Can you get a shot of it?”

  Taryn gave Mal a look that made her suppress a laugh. “Sure, Soph,” Taryn called back casually, tossing her braid over one shoulder. “Lemme change lenses real quick.”

  She turned and pretended to shuffle things around in her bag.

  “What lens are you looking for?” Mal asked out of the corner of her mouth, knowing she had the right one on already.

  “Something that highlights and emphasizes all-natural ugly,” Taryn replied. “Got one of those?”

  Lucas and Dan chuckled behind them.

  “Sadly, no,” Mal told her with a click of her tongue. “But play nice. She bites.”

  Taryn snarled. “So do I.” She quirked her brows as she picked up the camera again and left.

  Mal watched for a long moment, chewing her lip absently. Sophie stared back, expression disapproving and superior. How did someone get to be that way?

  “I can throw water on her and see if she melts,” Lucas offered.

  Mal laughed and squeezed the back of her neck. “Not sure what would happen there. She might explode into a burst of steam.”

  “There’s an image,” Dan muttered. “Might end up killing you, man.”

  “Eh,” Lucas said with a shrug. “Least I can do after she tried hitting on me the other day.”

  “Did she really?” Mal asked, turning to look at him.

  He shuddered. “Yep. I’ve had nightmares ever since.”

  Mal gave him a look. “Why would she hit on you?”

  He returned it with a cocky half smile. “I’m really very pretty, Mal-Mal. But I don’t like gold-digging snobs with inflated senses of self-importance.” He winced. “She didn’t like my refusal.”

  “She doesn’t like much, it seems.” Mal sighed. “Except Taryn.”

  Dan laughed once in disbelief. “She doesn’t like Taryn,” he told her. “She just hates you.”

  “I know, but why?”

  Lucas coughed and gestured surreptitiously. “One guess, darlin’.”

  Mal followed his finger and saw Hunter, looking like a GQ model who belonged on a poster in her bedroom, staring at her. He leaned on the boat railing with his arms folded, which happened to highlight his perfect physique, and a breeze tousled his hair as if spreading fingers through it lovingly, something she suddenly wanted to do. She swallowed, and her cousin laughed.

  “Go for the win, Mal,” Lucas urged softly. “If for no other reason than to be able to shove it in Sophie’s face.”

  Mal smiled, but not at Lucas.

  At Hunter.

  And he smiled back.

  Maybe neither of them were very good at public after all.

  Chapter 11

  Mal’s phone buzzed on the nightstand next to her, and she pried her eyes open to get it. It couldn’t be the alarm for her sunrise shoot; it was way too dark in the room for it to be that time. One bleary look at the clock told her it was indeed that time, which meant that—

  A loud roll of thunder interrupted her thoughts, and she flopped back down on her pillow. No sunrise shoot today, then.

  She fumbled for her phone, disconnected it from the charger, and squinted at the blinding light of her screen. There was already a message from Hunter.

  No shoot today, babe. Get some extra sleep.

  She smiled and replied, Yeah, I need it after last night.

  You cowgirls have a late night? he wrote back, and she could almost see his crooked half smile filled with insinuation.

  She smirked. I hate bachelorette parties on principle, but last night was the worst. I spent most of the time trying to find Jenna and Caroline outside.

  She waited for his response, which took longer than she expected, but then, she knew he wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer in the early morning.

  They left? he finally responded.

  She thought back to the night before and shook her head again even now. It was the stupidest thing she’d ever seen or heard of, all the girls trying to be stereotypical cowgirls but looking more like Daisy Duke working at Hooters. And then there was the guy …

  The girls surprised Jenna with a stripper,
she wrote, hoping that would be enough for him to understand.

  Oh … , he texted in return, which made her sigh in relief.

  She tilted her head in thought, then smiled and wrote, On the plus side, he looked like Matthew McConaughey. But Jenna never wanted a stripper. She and Caroline left the moment he appeared, and she was really upset.

  His response was immediate. I can see that. Did the others stay?

  Again, Mal shook her head, silently laughing now. Oh, I left Taryn for all that stuff. I got out of there to find my cousins. She said they had a great time. Lots of dramatics and drinking. Bethany slapped Alexis for making out with the stripper. Sophie came dressed in a flannel that was identical to mine from BBQ night, but decided leather shorts were a better touch. Maybe she thought you would be there.

  She waited for his response, wondering whether he would take the bait. On that note, I’m getting off and finding forks for my eyeballs. Go to sleep, beautiful.

  She set the phone aside and hunkered down into the warmth of her bed. A lazy morning might be what she needed after all the excitement this week. And a morning free of Hunter might clear her head a little.

  After getting more shut-eye, she puttered around the cottage for a while, texted with Taryn, who was thankfully not as hungover as expected, but it didn’t take long for her to be completely stir crazy with nothing to do. The day’s scheduled events were cancelled, which would only upset the kids, as it was supposed to be a kids’ water day. Hunter had done some scrambling with Tom and Jenna, and they found a house above the resort that had an entire movie theater screen in its basement. The family was not using the house, so they were able to shuttle the kids there instead.

  Jenna and the girls were off doing a bridal-fitness boot camp thing spontaneously, and Mal had been invited, but hot yoga with the Barbie gang was not her idea of fun. She’d sent Taryn a message about it, knowing how she loved being among the group, but the previous night had been enough. And while Mal might be out of her comfort zone on this whole extravaganza thing, there was no way she was going to spend her time taking pictures of the girls under these circumstances.