Picture Perfect Wedding

by Fiona Lowe

  All too soon, the dogs and kids had tired of that game and had scrambled back up onto the wagon demanding attention.

  Luke had squeezed her hand and instantly gone from attentive lover to responsible yet fun uncle, leaving her with the dogs. She scratched behind their ears, fairly certain that Luke’s invitation for her to join in the hayride was to use her as a buffer with his siblings, although she doubted the adults would argue in front of the children.

  She felt for all of them. Luke’s restlessness affected more than just himself and she was certain that added to his dilemma. Not that he’d mentioned it since the night in the barn. He wasn’t a big talker but she hoped he could find a way forward and rediscover the joy and purpose in his life.

  Everyone needed a purpose and unlike Luke, she had it in spades, along with added contentment flowing through her veins. She couldn’t remember being this relaxed in a very long time. She had money going into her bank account, happy clients and enough work coming in so she wasn’t stressing about where the next job was coming from. Things were on track with Connie’s wedding.

  And then there’s Luke.

  She smiled to herself. Luke was like extra frosting on the cake that was Whitetail. He was the unexpected bonus and she gave thanks every night, usually around the time he was doing delicious things to her that made her scream out his name. She planned to make the most of him in the few weeks she had left because once she returned to Minneapolis, her focus would be back on building the business. Who was she kidding? Her focus was on the business here, it was just that Luke had landed in her lap.

  “Wow, look at that fire,” Grace squealed.

  “That’s so awesome,” Ethan breathed out in wonder.

  The dogs sat up and Erin followed. Massive flames soared into the dark, a dancing mess of yellow, orange and red with occasional flashes of blue.

  “What are you burning in that thing?”

  “Junk from the old barn,” Luke said. “We do a bonfire every year as part of a cleanup. Whoa.” He pulled back on the reins and the wagon rolled to a stop. “Okay, kids, down you get. Grandma and Grandpa have got marshmallows.”

  “Yay!” The children and dogs jumped off and raced toward the fire.

  “Your parents are here?” She couldn’t hide the shock from her voice as unease rocketed through her. It was one thing to meet his siblings but meeting his parents was a very different thing entirely.

  “They got back late this afternoon,” he said matter-of-factly, as if introducing a lover to his parents happened every day. “You don’t need to worry. We Andersons keep our arguments out of the public arena and Dad and I will manage to be civil.” He lifted her down off the wagon and slid his palm into hers.

  Arguing wasn’t what she was worried about. “Maybe I should go back to the cottage.”

  “Are you feeling sick?”

  His concern wrapped around her like a blanket and she shook her head. “No, but this is a family thing and—”

  “No, it isn’t. Employees and guests are always invited to the bonfire and you’re both. Keith and Lindsay are here and I invited Nicole and Max, plus a bunch of other people from town. Besides, you can’t leave before you’ve tasted my bonfire specialty.”

  She met his eyes that twinkled in the firelight. “What’s that?”

  “Damper. I learned to make it in Australia.”

  “Damper?” She slid her hand up into his hair, the need to touch him strong. “You’re not tempting me one little bit. It sounds like mold.”

  “It’s like cake.” He lowered his head and ran his tongue slowly and decadently around the curve of her ear. “You won’t be able to get enough of it.”

  A shiver ran through her, reminding her just how addictive he was to her. It should bother her that he knew every erogenous zone on her body and how to use it to his advantage, but as he kissed her and pleasure swirled through her, all her concerns floated away because he was right. She could never get enough of him.

  “Where’s your uncle?” Wade’s voice floated above the crack and pop of the fire. “He’s supposed to be cooking.”

  Luke broke the kiss. “Go talk with Lindsay and Keith and I’ll catch up with you later when the damper’s on the fire.”

  She did as he suggested and Keith and Lindsay introduced her to Melissa who ran the Northern Lights dress shop.

  Erin sipped on a wine cooler that Keith had opened for her. “Do many of the brides buy their dresses through you?”

  “Some do. I’m slowly building up my wedding dress stock but I can’t compete with the big bridal houses in the cities.”

  “Can you offer more personalized service?”

  “We try. When a bride comes to Whitetail for a wedding tour, Nicole and I take the preliminary meeting. We give them a tour of the town in a horse and carriage and then, after a glass of champagne, I usually encourage them to try on some dresses. It sets the mood and they can picture themselves as a bride when they’re in a dress.”

  “Now that’s a great idea.” Erin’s brain started popping. “Do you take a photo of them in the frocks?”

  “No.”

  “It might help you build the wedding dress side of the business if you did. For less than a hundred dollars you can buy a Polaroid camera. This way you can take a photo of the bride looking happy in one of your dresses and send it home with them. They’ll look at the photo, think about the lovely day they had and the seeds are sewn for them to buy the dress from you.”

  “That’s a great idea and not just for selling wedding dresses but for selling the town.” Melissa’s expression was pure respect. “Nicole said you were good.”

  She let the buzz of the compliment flow through her. She loved this part of the business—dreaming up new and different ways to stand out in a crowded marketplace. “It may not work but it’s worth a shot, right?”

  “I need all those ideas and more,” Melissa said with a wistful sigh. “I love fashion and I love Whitetail but it’s never easy being in retail in a small town. Actually, it’s not easy being a single woman either.” She glanced around at the crowd and her eyes lingered on Luke who was lifting Max Lindquist up onto the hay wagon. “That man would make gorgeous babies and be a terrific dad, too, but no one’s been able to land him.”

  A proprietary streak of green spun through Erin at the way Melissa was openly ogling him. “You make him sound like a fish. Luke’s not interested in being a one-woman man so you’d be wise to look elsewhere.”

  Melissa’s mouth thinned. “Are you warning me off?”

  The thought that she might be horrified her. She hadn’t realized she’d sounded harsh and she softened her tone. “No, not at all. It’s just if you’re looking for a man to make babies with I think you’d be wasting your time with Luke.”

  Melissa’s shoulders slumped. “You’re right. I know you’re right and I don’t have time to waste on a man who won’t commit. My ovaries are shriveling as we speak.”

  Erin gave Melissa’s arm a supportive squeeze. Although she didn’t want to get married and risk the heartache it brought along with the loss of financial independence, she appreciated that most women wanted the full catastrophe of marriage, mortgage and babies. “Is Whitetail short on men?”

  “Just ones that want to commit.” She drained her wine cooler. “I need another one. You?”

  “No, thanks.”

  Melissa got chatting at the bar table and Erin took a walk watching the different groups clustered around the fire. Lindsay was deep in conversation with Luke, probably something to do with farming. He winked at her as she walked past and yet still managed to look like he was paying attention to everything Lindsay was saying.

  Nicole was chatting with Keri about the joys and challenges of raising boys, and Brett, Wade and Luke’s father were a bit farther over, their heads close toget
her and their expressions serious. Erin had a moment of feeling alone in a crowd and was about to go and join Keri and Nicole when someone called her name. She turned around to see a woman walking toward her who was an older version of Keri.

  “Hello, Erin. I’m Martha Anderson and I think I’m the last person in the family to meet you.”

  Despite Martha’s smile, Erin wasn’t certain if she was in trouble or not. She returned the smile. “Did you enjoy your visit to Janesville?”

  “We did, thank you. I talk to my sister a lot on the telephone but we don’t often get to sit down together.” Martha gave her an inquiring look. “Do you have a sister?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve a younger brother, although I imagine that’s not quite the same thing. Jesse isn’t big into talking.”

  “Most men aren’t,” Maratha said with feeling. “Keri tells me you’re busy with the Whitetail wedding business and helping out Wade.”

  Erin relaxed now she was on familiar ground. “I am. It’s been great. I like to keep busy and all the couples have been lovely to work with.”

  Martha nodded and the firelight cast shadows on her face. “So you and Luke are...?”

  Having a lot of sex.

  “...spending a lot of time together it seems,” Martha said.

  There was no point in denying it but Erin hesitated a moment, uncertain as to the direction the conversation was going to take. She girded herself for disapproval. “We are.”

  Censure didn’t come. Instead, Martha beamed. “I’m glad. He needs some fun in his life.”

  Erin blinked. Had Luke’s mother just said she approved of a casual, summer fling? “Um, I like to think we all need some fun and happiness in our lives.”

  “Wise girl.” Martha patted her hand. “Keeping it light is definitely the way to go with Luke.”

  Confusion trickled through her at the older woman’s words. Was she being warned off or being congratulated? She scanned Martha’s face and examined her tone but she couldn’t detect any sarcasm.

  “Now that Vern and I live in Arizona, I consider the house we bought there to be our home and not the farmhouse.”

  “Ah, that’s great.” She didn’t know what else to say. This conversation was like being flipped into a parallel universe because although Martha looked like an ordinary person this chat was decidedly odd.

  “In fact,” Martha continued, “the farmhouse needs a renovation. It’s been twenty years since the last upgrade and it would be a fun project. I wouldn’t mind any changes Luke made.”

  Erin laughed. “I think Wade got all the interior design skills, don’t you?”

  Martha fixed her with a long look. “I think Luke just needs a reason to become interested.” She dropped her gaze and sipped her drink. “Do you have your own place?”

  “I rent an apartment in Minneapolis. Once my business is more established I hope to buy. Like you said, renovations would be fun.”

  A flash of firelight showed surprise on Martha’s face. “With all the wedding photography work you’re getting in town, I would have thought you’d be planning on moving your business to Whitetail.”

  “I’m committed through September but after that I’m not certain. It depends a lot on other things.”

  Martha nodded. “Like Luke making a commitment to you.”

  A hot flash raced across her skin followed quickly by a cool shiver. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

  Martha gave her a knowing look. “It’s okay, Erin. I watch Dr. Phil and I know what young women are up against these days trying to get men to commit.”

  “Mrs. Anderson—”

  “Call me, Martha, dear.” She leaned in, her expression intense. “Luke’s thirty and ready to settle down. He just doesn’t know it yet. All he needs is a strong woman in his life to show him what he’s missing out on. Come to supper soon.”

  “Hey, Erin, Mom.” Luke strolled up to them, the firelight dancing like platinum in his hair and the shadows making him sexier than ever. He held a plate filled with clumps of what looked like scones or biscuits and all were smeared with jam. “Try the damper.”

  Erin had never been so pleased to see Luke in her life. The conversation with his mother was totally freaking her out. Weren’t mothers of sons supposed to stand as an obstacle between their son and the woman of his choice? And she wasn’t even Luke’s long-term choice and he certainly wasn’t hers.

  Her hand shot out toward the crumbly mess. “It looks great,” she said despite the fact it looked totally gross, but if her mouth was full of food, Martha couldn’t ask her any more questions. She picked up the largest piece and in one fell swoop shoved all of it in her mouth.

  * * *

  Two nights later, Luke was watching Erin develop photos in the red gloom of the darkroom he’d helped her create in a storage space next to the farm office. “Are you nearly done?”

  “Almost.” Her head was bent over a tray, and she was intently studying a piece of developing paper.

  He pulled her hair to the side and pressed his lips to her neck, loving the taste of her skin. Then he ran the tip of his tongue slowly and deliberately inside her ear.

  She shuddered against him and then turned around, hooking her hands behind his neck and kissing him the way he loved best—hard, deep and scorching hot. Hell, he loved all the ways she kissed, even butterfly kisses on his chest.

  The timer beeped loudly and she pulled away abruptly. He couldn’t stop his audible groan of disappointment.

  “If you distract me like that, we’ll be here even longer.” She kissed him on the nose as if he was a little boy who needed placating. “Five more minutes, I promise.”

  “I’m holding you to that.” He snuggled in behind her in the small space and peered over her shoulder. Black-and-white pictures of his family were appearing on the paper.

  She used a pair of tongs to pick up each photo and then rinsed it underwater. The next step involved running a squeegee over it before pegging it on a line to dry next to the others.

  Luke studied all of them. “I like this last one best.”

  “Why?” She quickly transferred another piece of developing paper into the stop bath and agitated it.

  “Maybe the way the kids are snuggled in to Phil and Keri.”

  “And?”

  He studied the photo again. “I guess the long shot of the farm behind us. Dad will love it.”

  “What about this one?” She dried the excess water off a print he hadn’t noticed was developing and pegged it up.

  It was a photo of him squatting down with his hand filled with the black earth of the farm and he was gazing off toward the thick grove of white ash, yellow birches and basswoods that divided the lake pasture from the lake. His favorite part of the farm. It didn’t matter how many different ways he looked at the photo, his connection to the land was unmistakable. He looked at peace, as if he knew exactly what he wanted out of his life.

  He stared at Erin, irritation rippling through him at the lie the photo portrayed. “So how did you doctor this to make me look like that?”

  “I didn’t change a thing. That’s you and your land.” She kissed him gently on the cheek and her field-green eyes bored into him. “You just have to work out what you want to do.”

  “I know exactly what I want to do and it has nothing to do with the farm.” He kissed her and gently guided her backward until her back was resting against the wall. Lifting her up, he wrapped her legs around his waist and gazed at her. Her eyes flashed with excitement and she wriggled against him, sending his blood rushing to his groin.

  She ran her finger softly down his cheek. “Had I known that me developing photos was such a turn-on for you, I would have done it more often.”

  “Sweetheart, you’re a turn-on every moment of every day.” And he lost himself in h
er mouth and then her body until the peace he craved settled over him once more.

  * * *

  Tony addressed the town meeting, making sure he covered every point on his list. “I’ve spoken with the Gundersons and the lumber’s being sprayed with water until it can be removed. The issue with the pagers is ongoing and we’re trialing a cell phone notification service for all volunteers. Meanwhile, the emergency siren at the station and in the main street will always sound as it’s done for years before we had the—” he raised his fingers in quotation marks, “‘—help of technology.’”

  He paused, expecting a few wry smiles and sounds of agreement but got nothing. He pressed on. “The problem of people burning is a frustrating one for the department. I want to remind everyone that it’s illegal to burn on your property without a permit.”

  A rumble of discontent shot around the room and he felt the wave of animosity hit him. Again. Ever since the night at the supper club he’d experienced unexpected moments just like this. Small slights—the wrong grocery order, the lack of an invitation to a social function the rest of his team were attending, and less friendly greetings as he walked around town. Today, at practice, his volunteer brigade had been sloppy and there’d been times when he’d swore they were deliberately misconstruing his instructions. And now this reaction from the meeting. The atmosphere of the room was a far cry from his enthusiastic welcome weeks ago. “Are there any questions?”

  “It’s the summer people you need to be telling about the permits, not us,” a discontented voice called out from the back.

  Tony took in a fortifying breath because the town wasn’t immune from law breakers. “Brent, I hear you and I’ve been working with the vacationers but we got five calls on the burnout by the mill last week because it didn’t have a permit and no one was expecting it.”

  “You don’t have any dive and rescue experience, do you, Chief?”

  What the hell, Eric? One of his best volunteers had just broken rank and was publically undermining him. Tony had been totally up front about his deficit in water rescue when he’d applied for the job and it hadn’t concerned the town board then. “That’s correct. However, I’m enrolled for my dive certificate and rescue training.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “I can’t actually pass the under-ice rescue until winter comes.”