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“I’m sorry to interrupt,” I said. “But Finley, the photographer bailed. Can you get your camera and take photos?”
Finley’s eyes widened. “No, I couldn’t possibly. I’m not a professional. We need someone really good for a wedding, especially this one.”
“We have no other choice,” I said.
Thad shot Finley a warm smile. “You can totally do this. The photos you took last month for the website were better than great.”
Finley glanced from me to Thad. “What if I ruin everything?”
Rafferty appeared behind me. “Everything’s already ruined. We have no doves, the rain has wrecked the outside ceremony, and now we have no photographer.”
“The flowers and altar held up well,” I said, tentatively. “And the bride looks like a princess. She’ll be impossible to take a bad photograph of.”
“Please, Finley, we’re desperate.” Rafferty’s eyes darted toward the seating area where everyone mingled, oblivious tothe chaos. Was I right that his gaze rested for a moment on Arabella? She was a beauty whatever she wore, but she looked particularly fetching in a sage-green dress that complemented her creamy skin and dark hair.
“Yes, I’ll do it. But I’m not making any promises they’ll be good.” Finley pressed her hands into a tent under her chin. “I’ve never taken photos of something important.”
Atticus, appearing perfectly calm, thanked us before heading toward his father. My eyes landed and lingered on Caspian. His hair had been tamed and his tie straightened. “You look good,” I said to him.
“Even with a wrinkled suit?” Caspian asked, leaning close to speak into my ear. A waft of his cologne made me practically dizzy.
We locked eyes, and a thrill of desire traveled from my core to my limbs until my knees wobbled. “Even so.”
Rafferty cleared his throat, causing us to pull apart. For a moment, I’d almost forgotten there were others in the room. “Soren, we have another disaster.” He told him about the missing photographer.
“You’re kidding?” Soren asked. “What’s wrong with people?”
“Finley’s going to take photos instead,” Sammie said.
“So not a total disaster,” I said, trying to be helpful.
“Can you take good photos?” Soren asked Finley. “This is important.”
She looked taken aback for a moment, clutching at her throat, where a silver heart hung from a delicate chain. “I’m not sure.”
“She took the ones for the website.” Thad glared at Soren. “So don’t worry about it.”
“Just asking.” Soren raised his hands as if to ward off an attack.
“Great. Then we’re all good.” Caspian gestured toward Atticus, who stood talking with his father in the corner. “Let’s get this show on the road. My pasta won’t stay fresh forever, and the groom’s getting nervous.”
“Always thinking about the food,” Rafferty mumbled under his breath.
“It’s going to be a great feast,” I said, feeling loyal to Caspian. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to make the perfect menu.
“I’ll run get my camera and equipment,” Finley said. “As luck would have it, I left it in the office in case I wanted to snap some photos at the reception.”
“I’ll go with you,” Soren said. “You’ll need help.”
Finley glanced nervously at him. “No, that’s okay. I can go by myself.”
“Don’t be silly,” Soren said gruffly. “This rain will ruin your equipment.”
“I’ve been carrying it by myself for years now,” Finley said brightly. “But if you insist.”
“Idoinsist.” Scowling, Soren strode toward the front door.
Finley watched him for a second, a look in her eyes I couldn’t pinpoint, before following.
