by Nan Dixon
“Let’s ask.” Bess handed the flowers to Abby. “Here’s the cake topper.”
“He might not even be here.” But yesterday, he’d suggested they touch up photos together, something they’d been working on the last week and half since Christmas.
Ever since she’d cried all over him, their working relationship had changed. He touched her—more. Not like he was making a move. More like her sisters did—like family.
And as perverse as it sounded, she wanted more.
She cringed. Maybe since Mamma announced he was an honorary Fitzgerald, he thought of her as a sister.
The lines between their professional lives and personal had blurred. And she didn’t know how to keep them in place.
Bess dragged her up the back stairs.
Maybe Liam would say no. Then her sisters would get to the bottom of the barrel—her.
They stopped in front of his suite and Bess knocked.
Liam opened the door and looked between them. “How’s the form?”
Dolley shook her head. He’d used the phrase once or twice, and she still didn’t know what it meant.
He stepped back and held the door for them. “I mean, what’s up in Yank.”
“We’re—” Bess waved her hand “—wondering if you could do us a huge favor.”
“What would that be?” He looked at Dolley.
“The photographer for tonight’s wedding broke her arm,” Bess said.
Dolley shifted. This was so inappropriate. They shouldn’t ask a famous photographer to take wedding pictures.
He looked genuinely sorry. “That’s terrible.”
“Could you stand in?” Bess blurted out.
“Me?”
“It’s a small wedding. The ceremony is here. Everything will happen here. Ceremony. Dinner.” Bess’s words tumbled together.
“There’s no one else?” Liam asked.
“Abby’s called everyone,” Bess said. “No one’s available.”
Liam frowned at Dolley.
She shook her head. “You can say no.”
He rubbed his chin. “It could be fun. Sure.”
“Really.” Dolley’s chest ached. “Have you ever shot a wedding?”
“Plenty of my school chums.” His blue gaze caught hers. “Worried I won’t know what to do?”
“No.” But why didn’t her sisters recognize she could handle this crisis and do a good job for the bride?
“What time am I needed?” he asked.
Bess typed on her phone. A response dinged. “Abby says, thank you, thank you. And the bride arrives at five.”
Dolley checked her phone. Forty-five minutes.
“I need to finish decorating.” Bess dashed out the door.
Before Dolley could follow, Liam asked, “Can you help me?”
“Me?” Dolley pressed a hand on her breasts.
He stared at her chest.
Heat flamed through her body. Her hand slipped to her side.
“You can make sure I don’t forget any shots the bride will want.” His gaze refocused on her face.
“I should be able to swing that.” She could help Liam, and while he took pictures of the bride and groom eating and toasting, she could serve. “We lost a server, so I’ll be helping with that, too.”
“Do what you can, then.” He grabbed a camera bag and freshly charged batteries. Then he moved into the bedroom and selected two cameras. “Where will this take place?”
“The ballroom. Follow me.”
They headed up the main stairs. Her disappointment weighed down each foot like concrete boots.
“I haven’t been up here.” Liam stroked the railing.
She imagined him stroking her skin the same way. “You’re entranced by our woodwork. Why is that?”
“I am?” He shook his head. “I was thinking of my godfather’s manor. It would have been so much more hospitable if it had been cared for like Fitzgerald House.”
“Was that in Kerry?”
“No. Kilkee.” The finality in his voice shut down any additional questions.
He could talk for hours about photography, but nothing about himself. Some day she would get him to share why he clammed up whenever she asked questions about his childhood.
“Fitzgerald House didn’t always look like this. Mamma started the restoration when I was five. It wasn’t until last year that we finished the guest rooms on this floor.” She pushed open the double doors. “I think you’ll like the ballroom.”
“Oh, my.” Wonder filled his face. “It’s grand.”
She tried to see the ballroom through his eyes. Four crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling. The relief on the ceiling and walls was gold leaf. The cream-colored walls had inset mirrors that reflected the gorgeous room.
Bess was placing centerpieces of white roses with gold-sprayed leaves in the center of each table. Half of the tables were set. An arbor with white flowers and more gold leaves was angled into the corner of the room. White chairs flared in short rows away from the arbor, and a satin runner covered the center aisle between the chairs. “The flowers look great.”
Bess gave her a worried wave.
Cheryl pushed a cart of wineglasses and silverware into the ballroom.
“I need to set tables,” Dolley said.
He nodded, pulling out a camera.
As she wiped and set wineglasses, Liam moved around the room. He shot close-ups of the centerpieces and the arbor. Knelt to take more of the head table set on a dais.
She wanted to peer over his shoulder and see what he saw.
Instead, she polished silverware, her lips set in a straight line.
“Bride’s here,” Bess called. “Liam, I’ll introduce you.”
“Splendid.” Liam grabbed his camera bag. He looked over at Dolley.
“I’ll be down when we’re finished.” They still had a few more tables to go. “Five minutes.”
Was that panic that ran across his face before he nodded? Couldn’t be. He was Liam Delaney.
Cheryl was folding the last napkin by the time Dolley placed the final set of silverware around the table. “Anything else?”
Cheryl grabbed the clipboard on the cart, checking off each item. “No. We’re good for a while.”
Dolley took the back stairs to the bride’s changing room. She knocked, and the door popped open.
Inside, the bride and her attendants sipped champagne. Liam nodded, his eyes a little wild. He gave a head jerk.
She hurried to his side.
“Lisa wants to make sure we capture all these pictures.” He handed her a piece of paper with a lengthy list.
She scanned it. It seemed like the usual. “Okay. I’ll make sure you don’t forget any. You can shoot the dress.”
He stepped next to the hanging wedding dress and worked his way around it. Then he took a couple of shots of the shiny shoes sitting on the floor.
Dolley had been in and around enough weddings to know how to stage the shots. “Ladies, why don’t you all toast the bride?” she suggested. “Lisa, let’s put you right in the middle.”
They obliged. Dolley found a pen and crossed off the pictures. Her phone buzzed. Groom’s party’s here.
“You’re husband-to-be has arrived,” Dolley called out. “We’ll check on him.”
Lisa’s face went pink. “Wonderful.”
They could get pictures of the groom getting ready while Lisa got into her own dress. “We’ll be back.”
“Why don’t you take the pictures of the bride dressing?” He handed her a camera. “I don’t think I should.”
“Oh, wow.” It was the Rolleiflex. “You’re letting me use your camera?”
He was frowning. “Do you ha
ve yours?”
“No.” She might lie to get her hands on this exquisite equipment. Grinning, she made sure she knew how to run the camera. “I can’t wait.”
He stared as she handled the camera.
“I’ll take care of it like it’s my baby,” she assured him.
“Sugar, can’t you take our pictures?” a bridesmaid asked Liam.
“We want to get all the pictures Lisa requested,” Liam said. “And Dolley’s very talented.”
Too bad her sisters didn’t think so.
“Hurry back.” The bridesmaid, champagne flute in hand, brushed Liam’s sleeve. “I’m Rachel.”
Miffed by Rachel’s forwardness, Dolley straightened her shoulders. She shouldn’t be jealous. Liam could do what he wanted. She was just his apprentice.
“Lisa, how about getting dressed?” Dolley got the okay to take pictures of the bride in her corset. “You look incredible.”
Lisa’s smile was a beam of light.
“If you get that lovely dress on, we could shoot some pictures of you on the balcony,” Dolley suggested.
“Help me, ladies,” Lisa sang out.
Her friends tugged, buttoned and fluffed. Then Dolley opened the French doors.
“Watch the ice,” she warned, shooting away as they laughed and surrounded the bride. She got a few good ones and one great one. “Why don’t I get some with just Lisa?”
Lisa leaned on the balustrade and shouted, “I’m getting married.”
Dolley moved to the side, trying to capture the anticipation. Lisa turned with another joyous smile. There. She pushed the shutter, hoping she was getting the picture she’d envisioned.
There was a knock. Rachel scurried over and opened the door.
Liam.
“Come in out of the cold,” Dolley told the bride. She handed the camera to Liam. “How’d it go?”
He was grinning.
Maybe she should count his smiles today. Unless he was smiling because of Rachel.
“I had the groom’s party on the balcony in their room,” he said.
“Great minds.”
He frowned.
“Great minds think alike.”
He raised his eyebrows. “They do?”
The sexy lilt in his voice hummed right to the center of her body. She sighed.
They headed to the ballroom ahead of the bride. “Make sure I don’t make a hash of it, will you, luv?” he asked.
Who would have imagined an internationally recognized photographer would be nervous about meeting a bride’s expectations. Liam took pictures as Dolley checked off the list.
When the minister and groom took their places, he slipped to the front of the wedding guests. The bridal party made their entrance and Liam was in full control.
Once the I do’s were said and the couple introduced, Dolley helped set up group shots. It was like they could read each other’s minds. She would twitch a skirt or straighten a tie before he could get the words out of his mouth. Without his direction, she moved the wedding party members around for symmetry. Then she backed away and stood next to Liam.
He leaned close, their shoulders brushing. “We’re good together.”
They were. Was that because he’d taught her to see the world through his lens?
After the group shots were done, Rachel put her hand on Liam’s back. “Can I see what you’ve taken?”
Dolley wanted to rip Rachel’s hand, with its perfect French manicure, off Liam’s back.
Liam shifted away from the bridesmaid. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until I go through the pictures with Lisa.”
Rachel pouted, crossing her arms under her breasts.
“What’s next?” Liam moved to Dolley, not even glancing at the bounty of flesh plumped up for his viewing pleasure.
Rachel sniffed and headed to the bar.
“The only required pictures left are the toasts and the cake cutting. You can just roam for a while.” She handed his bag back to him. “I need to set salads.”
He caught her hand. “You’ll be back?”
She squeezed his. “Yes.”
He didn’t let go.
Tugging her to a recessed door, he whispered, “Working with you is fun. Does this count in my fun quotient for the day?”
He smiled.
Something hot flowed between them. It scorched her lungs, so she could barely draw in a breath.
“Dolley.” Longing filled his voice. He pulled her closer.
She broke away. Not a good idea. Was it? It was the new year. But starting something with Liam might ruin their working relationship.
The lines grew murkier each time he touched her. And the need to touch him was drawing her in. “I have to...”
“Liam.” Rachel was now the drunk bridesmaid. “We’d like more pictures with the bride.”
He tore his gaze away from Dolley’s. “I’ll be right there.”
Dolley escaped to the service hall. She leaned against the wall, pulling in deep breaths. There wasn’t a doubt what she needed to do. She had to sacrifice this attraction. There was so much more to learn. She wanted to be professional, even if her sisters didn’t think she could photograph a wedding. A small snort escaped.
Cheryl came through. “Did you just run up the stairs?”
“Something like that.” Easing her hands under a tray of salad plates, she backed through the swinging door and into the ballroom.
Her gaze zeroed in on Liam. He glanced over, but Rachel said something to him and he turned back to the bridesmaid.
She didn’t know whether she wanted to stake out her territory and pull him away from the woman or stick to her principles.
It was fun to flirt with Liam. Exciting to think about what they might be like together. But she wasn’t messing up this opportunity.
She sighed. It would be principles. Status quo would have to keep her warm at night.
* * *
LIAM CHECKED ON Dolley again. He had to stop doing that.
But when he’d held her hand there’d been that...click. That connection. It couldn’t be one-sided. What was keeping them from closing the gap between their lips?
Maybe tonight.
Dolley cleared plates. Someone said something, and she laughed. A sparkling sound that made even a curmudgeon like him smile. Marion, the head of housekeeping for the B and B, wheeled out the cake, and the bride and groom headed over. Once this was done, all the pictures on the list would be checked off.
“How are you holding up?” Dolley had somehow snuck up on him. Her hand was warm where it rested on his back.
“These will be the final pictures.” He handed her the list.
“Nice.” She grinned. “If your documentary career doesn’t work out, I think you’ve found your fallback.”
“Not on your life,” he whispered. Hell. His feet ached. And all night he’d fought off Rachel. Although, the looks Dolley had shot Rachel gave him hope. No one could have that kind of animosity and not feel something.
He handed Dolley his camera bag. “Could you find my tilt-shift lens?”
She dug out the right one.
He screwed it on. “Why don’t you shoot from the other side?”
“I’d love to.” Glee lit her face as she pulled the Rolleiflex from its cushioned cradle.
He moved closer while Dolley shifted to the other side of the cake table. Marion handed the cake knife to the bride and groom.
The couple grinned at each other. They both looked so young, it was hard to imagine this was their second time around.
They smashed cake in each other’s faces, laughing. He fired off shots, not able to spend the time to frame or stage. Then Marion took the cake apart with the precision of a surgeon.
“It was hard. My back hurts.”
She chuckled. “Abby has food for us in the kitchen.”
“Are you coming down?” he asked. “I can wait.”
“Cheryl and I will deliver the cake, and then we’re right on your heels.” She picked up a tray of dessert plates.
Liam headed to the kitchen.
“Thank you so much for stepping in.” Abby dried her hands, came over and gave him a hug.
“You’re welcome. It was fun.”
“Now you’re just being nice.” She patted his back and pulled away. “Are you ready to eat?”
“Absolutely.”
“You have your choice of short ribs or pasta.”
“A little of both?”
“You’ve got it.” Abby brought over a salad and then the entrée. “What would you like to drink?”
He looked at the food. “Red wine, if you have it.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Dolley and Cheryl pushed through the swinging door, laughing.
“Done?” he asked.
“For now,” Dolley said.
At the counter they pulled together plates, grabbing salads out of the fridge. Then they sat at the table with him.
“I’ve forgotten how sore my feet get.” Dolley propped her feet up on the chair next to Liam.
“I can’t seem to forget. Ouch.” Cheryl stacked her feet on the chair on the other side of his. “That feels good.”
Abby came back with a bottle of wine and poured Liam a glass.
“Nothing for them?” He waved his glass at Dolley and Cheryl.
Cheryl’s smile evaporated. “I don’t drink.”
There was a story there, but he didn’t know her well enough to ask.
“Dolley?” Abby asked.
“I’m still working.” Dolley waved a forkful of lasagna in the air.
He leaned forward and snatched the mouthful off her fork.
“Hey!”
“Thanks.” He winked and went back to eating.
Cheryl shook her head. “Children, children.”
“Not me,” Dolley complained. “Him.”
“She waved food near my face,” he justified.
