She moistened her lips. Her eyelids lowered in a sensual, pouty way.
“Good. Great. Hop up on the day bed. I want to try a different background.”
She did as he asked. He made the adjustment, changed the angle of his reflector slightly then stepped in front of her. “Do you feel safe?”
“Yes.”
“Good, then, it’s time to push the envelope. Turn to face the backdrop then slip your arms out of the robe and let it pool at your waist.”
He got the camera ready as she moved into position. Her strong, beautiful back nearly broke his heart.
Click.
She stiffened, as if the shutter had been the tip of a whip. She looked over her shoulder.
“You have no idea how beautiful the proud and dynamic curve of your back is, Mia. But like every woman I’ve ever known, you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Pull them back slightly. That’s my girl.”
She blinked and swallowed. Moved by his words, he could tell. He had more for her, but he wouldn’t say them again.
“Turn my way now, but I don’t want you to reveal too much.”
He walked to the bed to position her arm in a way that he could see the sensual roundness of her breast but nothing else. “That is sexy in a way that defies explanation.”
She looked down as if curious about what made her breast sexy. The look was so disarming he nearly lost it. Luckily, he held the remote in his hand and caught the image with a click.
“Hold that pose while I adjust the camera,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. He hid his emotions behind the camera, taking time to adjust for a shadow here, a freckle there.
“Good. Now give me a languid look. Go to your safe spot. That Mia place where nobody can touch you. Every woman has one. Go there, baby.”
He moved in closer taking care not to crowd her space. The faraway look in her eyes was heartbreakingly Mia. This was the money shot for him. The way he’d always remember her if she sent him away.
He knew that was her intention. He’d known it all along, but when he heard from Ren this morning that she’d lost the lot, Ryker knew the end was coming sooner rather than later. She’d paint him with the same brush as every other man who took something from her. She didn’t see them together forever…or even for the winter.
He didn’t blame her. What about him said: husband material? Stepdad? Mate?
Nothing.
“Are you okay?”
He blinked, coming back from his self-absorbed distraction. “Yes. I’m ready for color.”
The next hour passed in what felt like minutes. In addition to the nudes, he’d given her three changes of clothing: a hot chilies apron in the kitchen with nothing underneath, a frilly red teddy that made her giggle when she put it on, and the oversized t-shirt he’d gotten from Emilee that said: Bump, Set, Spike for a Cure.
His last photo was one of her tracing the printed word “cure” across the flat of her belly with her fingertip.
“Perfect. All done. You were amazing. My best model ever.”
She laughed and shook her head, obviously refusing to take his hyperbole seriously, but he meant it. She’d changed his life.
He just didn’t know how to make her believe him.
Chapter 13
‡
Two weeks later
Ryker pressed his ear to the door of his room. The sound of women’s voices was palpable. His little rental house/jewelry shop hummed with activity and it wasn’t even eight a.m. He grinned and took a deep breath before opening the door.
“Good morning, wedding people. Are we ready for the big day?”
“Are you ready, Mr. Photographer Man? That’s what everybody is wondering?”
Tonya was the most outspoken of Bailey’s Dazzling Minions—the artisans who created jewelry from Bailey’s designs. Tonya continued to tease him about being homeless. “Did you find that camera in a dumpster?”
“Yup. Just this morning. Lucky me.” He clicked her photo—once, twice, three shots. Her look went from surprise to humor to coy pose. They both laughed.
“Print me a copy,” she said. “Now, you’d better grab some coffee and pastries while you still can. Bailey and the girls will be here any minute.”
“The girls” he’d learned at a planning meeting earlier that week included Bailey’s soon-to-be stepdaughter, Chloe, her two future sisters-in-law, Mia and Meg, Austen’s girlfriend, Serena, and Mia’s daughter, Emilee. The others he’d gotten to know casually. Chloe and Emilee he’d met during his photography gig at school. Serena had sought him out to photograph her herd sire, Bartholomew, and several female alpacas Serena planned to sell. Meg he’d met for the first time the night before at the rehearsal dinner. The gathering, which was held at the Zabrinski home, had appeared to him to be less rehearsal and more festive family reunion.
He’d barely had a minute alone with Mia. Just as well, he thought, since he couldn’t be around her without touching her, making certain she was real. To his surprise, she hadn’t broken up with him the day of their photo shoot. In fact, their late night rendezvous had continued. Their nights together were magical, but so far removed from the reality of either of their daily routines, Ryker had suggested—only partly in jest—that he was beginning to feel like a kept man. Not that Mia paid him, but she did steer a good deal of business his way. So much, in fact, he’d had no time to worry about his land or his career.
In the back of his mind, Ryker knew he was still hiding from reality.
He should put out feelers, gear up for a new expose or photo layout in some war-torn Third World country. But he found he enjoyed this laid-back routine that made him enough money to pay his way—and his lawyer.
Besides, the wheels of justice were not speedy. Ren had promised they’d have news on the disposition of the land and his Trust by next week. What that meant, Ryker had no idea. He hoped his mother and stepfather would offer some sort of settlement for Mia—even if they expected him to rebuild his fortune on his own. One thing he’d learned about Mia was her fear of failure. She agonized over the idea of failing her children. She was terrified of costing her successful brother a few bucks if their new law office didn’t take off. She worried about making everyone happy…everyone but herself.
Making Mia happy appeared to be the one thing Ryker did with ease when they were in bed. Too bad she didn’t trust him to be a part of her life outside of their sexual cocoon.
“We’re here,” a familiar voice called out, just as Ryker took a bite of his Danish.
The sunlight streaming through the kitchen window highlighted her profile like a golden spot. Her beauty made things happen inside him he couldn’t pinpoint exactly or explain. He chewed mindlessly, his gaze locked on hers. The humor in her eyes said she was happy to see him—and remembered vividly what they’d been doing two nights ago.
Strawberry filling squeezed out the side of his mouth.
Mia marched straight to him. “Pig.” She wiped the excess from his lips then popped her finger in her mouth. Her smile froze the moment she heard a collective intake of breath from every other person in the room. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open.
Ryker reacted without thinking. He stuffed the remaining bite of doughnut in her mouth, wiped his hand on his jeans and snapped her picture. “Cool,” he cried, leaping to his feet. “Let the candid moments begin. Perfect shot, Mia. Well done!”
Her eyes said, “Nice try,” but the awkwardness lingered until he posed Emilee and her younger cousin together swapping chocolate and sugar doughnuts. The girls’ laughter provided the distraction everyone needed to move on. Everyone, except perhaps, Meg, who watched Ryker without comment.
He’d stared down a lioness once. Meg reminded Ryker a bit of the tawny beast. Her thick golden hair hung just below her shoulders. The blond coloring would have surprised him if he hadn’t met Paul. Mia told him the eldest and youngest siblings favored their mother, while the twins both took after their father’s side of th
e family.
He walked to her. “You’re Meg. I recognize you from the photos on your mother’s mantle.”
They shook hands. “I’ve heard about you, too, of course.” She looked around then said in a soft voice, “Emilee’s right. She told me you look like an older Josh Hutcherson.”
He put out his hands and shook his head. “No idea who that is.”
She grinned. “Well, I suggest you find out. If this thing between you and my sister is as serious as it looks, you’re going to need to brush up on contemporary culture and social media.”
“Hmm. I’ll take that under advisement.”
Meg stared at him so intently he wondered if she could tell he was lying. Suddenly, he felt like a student who was one test away from failing.
“Meg,” Mia called. “You’re next. We’re all doing upsweeps. Bailey’s orders.”
Ryker let out the breath he’d been holding. Damn. That woman was intense. He looked at his camera. He needed to be taking photos. But Meg’s acknowledgement of the depth of his involvement with her sister unnerved him. Mia refused to talk about the public side of their relationship, saying, for now she wanted to “keep things simple.”
“Hey. You okay?” Mia asked, returning to fill up her coffee cup. “Sorry about the doughnut thing. Apparently, my brain did the Pavlovian conditioning thing when I walked in the door and saw you sitting there all cute and jammy.”
He’d never seen her quite so animated. “You’re getting into the spirit of the wedding, aren’t you?”
“It’s hard not to be happy when you’re around Bailey and Paul. It’s like they won Survivor, The Voice and Who Wants To Be a Millionaire all at the same time.”
Ryker made a face. “I’ve lived off the grid for too long. Who’s Josh Hutcherson?”
She tilted her head a moment then looked at her daughter, who was applying bright pink polish to her cousin’s nails. A grin formed on her lips. “Emilee’s celebrity heart throb of the moment.” She leaned in close enough to whisper, “The kids are going to Meg’s cabin after the wedding lunch. Are you free?”
Completely. And normally he’d jump at the chance to spend the rest of the day and the night with her. His body said yes, but his mind said, “I should put together the proofs for Bailey and your brother.”
She looked surprised by his answer and disappointed. She might have said more, but Emilee let out a big squeal. “Mom. Come see Chloe’s nails. They’re perfect.”
Ryker turned and headed toward the girls, camera ready. “Perfection that needs to be documented for posterity.”
He clicked away with abandon, aware, of course, that Mia was watching him.
He’d turned down bliss. What the hell was wrong with him?
*
Mia settled uneasily in her folding wooden chair. The Zabrinski family took up the entire front two rows of the Graff’s chapel, since the venue was on the small, intimate side. A fiddle player and guitarist played a beautiful acoustic version of Elvis’s Can’t Help Falling In Love as Paul and son, Mark, moved into position. Chloe would be Bailey’s only attendant. Everyone approved of the idea of keeping it low key, since many of those attending would be comparing this ceremony to Paul’s first wedding, an elaborate over-the-top affair at a country club in Bozeman.
Paul’s gaze swept the room. Mia remembered the twinkle in his eyes from childhood. He’d always been a happy kid, but she’d never seen him happier. Given his and Bailey’s history, this wedding seemed like a long shot. But you’d never guess that from the joy on his face the moment he spotted Bailey.
The fiddle player switched to the traditional wedding march—with a western twang. Everyone rose and turned to watch Chloe start up the aisle in a cream-colored cotton lace dress, short denim jacket and cowgirl boots adorned with a B.Dazzled Bling’s signature boot-charm bracelet. She’d wanted a white cowgirl hat, but Bailey had talked her into getting her long hair artfully arranged with little white flowers, instead.
Mia’s eyes misted over when Paul went to one knee to greet his daughter, kiss her hand and then help her mount the single step to the dais.
An audible intake of air made Mia turn around again. She put a hand to her heart. “Oh, Bailey,” she whispered under her breath. “You are so beautiful.”
Her dress was creamy lace like Chloe’s but a far more elaborate design with a sweetheart neckline, empire waist, fitted jacket of the same delicious material and a fun, modern, partial train. Her boots were custom ostrich with intricate inlaid detail in turquoise. Her parents flanked her, beaming as proud as any parent had a right to be.
The trio paused and smiled for the photographer who moved with grace and finesse. For a man who claimed to know nothing about shooting weddings, he seemed to have great instincts. She’d watched him surreptitiously ever since they’d arrived at the venue. He had yet to make eye contact with her, which left Mia baffled. Wasn’t their relationship exactly what they both wanted right now? Short and inconsequential. A fling. Well outside the lines of their uniform, ordinary lives.
At least, that’s what she wanted. Wasn’t it?
What they had together felt great. But nobody in their right mind would think they could work as a couple outside this fling. Nobody. If Ryker couldn’t accept that, then… She pushed away the thought as the bridal party came abreast of her. Bailey looked at Mia and mouthed something that looked like, “You’re next.”
“Me?” Mia wanted to cry. “Are you crazy? I’m damaged goods. I’m a bitter, burnt-out, neutered, single mom breast cancer survivor who is starting a new business. What man in his right mind would dare fall in love with me?”
Unintentionally, her gaze went searching and didn’t stop until she found Ryker. In profile, he easily was one of the most handsome men she’d ever kissed.
“Family and friends, welcome to the wedding of Bailey Jenkins and Paul Zabrinski. Please sit.”
Mia startled. She’d been so focused on Ryker she’d missed Meg’s arrival.
“Your aunt looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” Mia whispered to Emilee.
“I helped her pick out that dress when I was visiting. Cost a bundle.”
The perfectly tailored bronze silk dress with a matching jacket probably came from New York. Money wasn’t an issue with Meg, Mia knew. She worked hard, published often and consulted for a number of private corporations and government agencies. Yet, she lived frugally because economy fit her lifestyle. Money came in faster than she could spend it.
Plus, as she often boasted, she never once asked for or took Edward’s advice when it came to investing.
The dress would be sleeveless, Mia was certain. Meg liked showing off her well-honed muscles. She worked out five days a week and ran on a treadmill nearly every morning. Keeping track of wolves required stamina.
“It’s gorgeous.”
The upsweep Meg had resisted that morning softened her sister’s usual serious glower. Meg could laugh, she simply didn’t loosen up very often. “The curse of the driven,” Mom called it.
More like the curse of the Zabrinski women. We don’t do things halfway, she thought. Whether that laser focus was trained on their careers, their passions or their love affairs.
Ryker. Watching him work was driving her crazy.
“They’re not the last breeding pair of an endangered species,” she wanted to shout.
Austen looked at her over his shoulder and winked. Code for he was thinking the same thing. God, she hoped not. He’d already lectured her about not getting involved with the person trying to screw her out of her property. Mia had been in the unenviable position of defending her not-so-secret lover. When Austen found out the details—Marietta was a small town and people gossiped like it could keep winter at bay – she’d get a double dose of the same kind of big brother tough love that he’d supposedly administered to Paul and Bailey earlier that summer.
That her younger brother and the woman to whom he was pledging his troth forgave Austen for his boorish behavior surprised q
uite a few people, Mia included.
“Bailey Jenkins,” Paul said, his voice carrying. “You were my first love and you’ll be my last.”
The country duo then performed a song Mia couldn’t place at first. She nudged Emilee. “What is this?”
“A Thousand Years. From Twilight,” she whispered.
“Oh.” A thousand years? Mia would have settled for fifteen good ones.
Ten minutes later, the happy newlyweds and entourage shook hands and greeted guests in the doorway of the Graff’s private dining hall where they were scheduled to feast on bison fillets, locally caught walleye, and bacon-wrapped duck breast, along with a dozen or more side dishes. Bailey hadn’t been able to make up her mind—a side effect of second trimester pregnancy, as Mia recalled.
“You are the most beautiful bride ever,” Mia told her new sister-in-law. “Welcome to the family.”
Bailey leaned in and kissed Mia’s cheek. “Thanks. As I mouthed to you as I was walking down the aisle, ‘You’re the best.’ I couldn’t have done this without you.”
So not true. “I did my scary DA thing a couple of times. Sometimes when you want something done right, you gotta pull out the big guns.”
Bailey plucked a creamy white rose out of her bouquet and handed it to Mia. “You got me the best photographer on the planet, too. I’ll never forget how kind you’ve been, Mia. I always wanted a sister and, now, I have one.”
Bailey’s eyes filled with tears. Mia would have panicked if Paul hadn’t leaned over and smacked Mia on the shoulder with a pretend fist. “Way to go, Mia. You made Bailey cry.”
Mia fought the blush she felt building. Any quick-witted reply she might have come up with was lost when Troy Sheenan, the Graff’s owner, walked up and said, “We’re ready for you at the head table, Mr. and Mrs. Zabrinski.”
Mia sprinted for her place at the table she’d helped decorate that morning. Every setting had a personalized nametag attached to a beautiful spray of pine, along with a wrapped tea bag and a cinnamon stick. To her surprise, her placard wasn’t where she left it—beside her children, who were already seated, helping themselves to warm bread. The person sitting in Mia’s spot was Austen, with his girlfriend, Serena James, on his other side.
Montana Darling (Big Sky Mavericks Book 3) Page 15
