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“Yeah, I like having two appointments in one day. Means I can take a day off tomorrow and actually have some free time for once.”
I almost snorted at the way he’d saidappointments. He took his job very seriously. Well, both jobs. I’d only seen him in action as Mr. Fake Date, not asSergeantDevereux, but I’d overheard him and Zac talking about work and what he did in the Marine Corps.
Judging by the way he talked about it, I could tell it was something that meant a lot to him. The actual job itself—teaching Marine recruits how to use their firearms during boot camp—and also the pride of belonging to the world’s sexiest military branch. In my humble,totallyunbiased opinion, of course.
“Right, well, yes,” I said, fiddling with the zipper of my camera bag, “I am working both weddings.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but then the mother of the bride let out a loud sigh of frustration as she ascended the steps, looking a little rattled. “Sorry about that. That was my ex-husband. The nerve on that man, I swear.”
Without missing a beat, Beau zipped down the remaining steps, then offered her his arm.
She made a little sound like she was charmed, placing her hands in the crook of his elbow with a wide smile. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Shall we?”
The woman looked at me like she couldn’t believe how lucky she was. Like she’d bought a one-dollar scratcher at the gas station and was shocked to find a row of sevens with a thousand-dollar prize attached to it.
Or maybe a million. If Beau were a scratcher, he’d be worth a million. Easy.
“See ya later, Lyndi,” he said as they passed me, and I belatedly waved after he’d already turned his back.
For a long moment, I just stood there, watching them disappear through the massive double doors of the manor. Between photographing weddings and being a romance novel addict, I was used to being surrounded by amazing, unattainable men.
That was how I viewed all grooms because clearly, they were amazing enough for someone to want to marry them. And since they were gettingmarried, that made them unattainable.
Obviously.
As for the romance novels? The men dreamed up by countless authors who had the perfect imaginary lips and always used them to say the right things at exactly the right moments? Well, duh, they could be the most amazing guys in the world, but they were still fictional. One couldn’t find a man more unattainable than that.
And Beau? He was the ultimate book boyfriend come to life. Or rather, a combination ofmultiplebook boyfriends. Practically as fictional as the men in my books, he constantly put himself in situations that screamedfake relationship romance trope.
And I knew this because we’d spent the last year working the same wedding circuit, and I’d watched him transform himself into whoever his clients wanted him to be. Over and over and over again.
He could be a bad boy whose only purpose was to soften up a woman’s parents before they met the actual man she wanted to bring home to them.
He could be the perfect gentlemen, aiming to impress a dad who would only hand over his company to his daughter if she proved she was willing to settle down in addition to having career goals.
Or he could be a potential threat—the guy who would nearly get punched by another man, who for whatever reason needed to see her withhimin order to realize his own feelings for the woman he loved.
But all of these versions of Beau weren’t the real him. And even though six months ago he’d become besties with my sister’s fiancé, and I’d thought I’d be able to find out who he was behind the charade, it hadn’t happened.
Every time the four of us hung out, I’d watch him over the top of my Kindle from the corner—I’d be present but happier in the background. He’d laugh and smile and entertain, bleeding with the confidence of a man who didn’t overanalyze everything or second-guess himself. I actually kind of envied him for that reason. But I never heard him say anything that clued me in to who he was on the inside.
But… it was for the best. After all, he’s leaving for a new duty station in a few months, and as tempting as it was to think about peeling back his layers and discovering who he was beneath his glittering exterior, it wouldn’t matter how I felt about what I found out.
I knew I’d never leave Bluffton, and I knew he wouldn’t stay.
