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July, Present Day
Maple Ridge
* * *
The first wedding-photography practice session is a casual, outdoor event in Simone and Lucas’s backyard.
I reach down from the stepladder, and Simone passes me the last jar filled with fairy lights. I hook it onto the string hanging between the trees, biting my lower lip to keep the pain in my ribs from showing on my face.
She gazes at the jars already strung up. “It looks so magical.”
It really does.
Zara and Garrett step out of the house, dressed in their wedding gown and suit.
“Wow, this place looks incredible.” Zara raises the floor-length hem of her simple satin gown and walks across the grass, the long slit in the side revealing golden flashes of her leg.
Zara’s the one who looks incredible.
Her braids are fastened up in an elegant style and her makeup is glamorous, complete with long fake lashes, which she’s currently using to give Garrett playful, flirty eyes.
“God, if Garrett can’t see how gorgeous she is,” Simone whispers, “I might have to hit him on the head with the floral centerpiece.”
The corners of my mouth twitch into a smile. “Can I take photos while you’re doing that? It might add a nice touch to Em’s portfolio.”
Simone’s abrupt laugh is too soft to be heard by anyone else in the backyard.
Zara glides over to the end of the aisle we’d set up with white chairs on either side of it. Garrett takes his place at the wooden archway, which Emily decorated with a simple floral arrangement of fake flowers.
We spend the next hour shooting various photos. Occasionally, I try for the same shot several times, like a movie director who makes his actors shoot a scene over and over and over until he’s happy with the results. And I take tons of notes so I can replicate the best pictures when I shoot a real wedding.
I don’t make the pair kiss—much to Simone’s disappointment. I catch her pout when I end things before it gets that far, and I can tell what she’s thinking.
“The last photos I want to take are of the bride and groom dancing.” The sunlight has dimmed and the lights in the jars glow like fireflies. It really is romantic.
Garrett and Zara walk to the center of the lawn. The lights hanging from the trees twinkle softly in the background above their heads. There’s no real dance floor, but no one will realize that with the angle I’m shooting the photos from.
Behind me, the back door to the house slides open. Without turning around, I know it’s Troy, Kellan, and Lucas. They were at the Wilderness Warriors site, getting ready for the weekend trip with the next group of military vets.
Emily turns on the music and Garrett and Zara dance for a few minutes while I capture those shots. They’re a beautiful couple. And so at ease with each other.
Everything about this mock wedding is beautiful. So why don’t I feel the same level of excitement I used to feel behind the lens?
Is it because the wedding isn’t real?
Or is it because it’s never been your dream to be a wedding photographer?
Sure, it wasn’t Savannah’s dream. But I’m not her. I’m Jessica. Why can’t this be my dream?
We finish up, and Simone goes over to her husband and kisses him. Zara and Garrett duck into the house to get changed.
“Can you hold the stepladder while I get the jars down?” I ask Em as I step onto the first rung of the short ladder.
An arm scoops around my waist and pulls me to the hard body behind me. My skin instantly tingles at the contact.
“I can get them.” Troy’s husky voice brushes across my ear and ignites the happy nerves between my legs.
I glance over my shoulder. “Right. If you want to reinjure yourself.” My words pour out like hot caramel melted over ice cream, not quite the sound I was going for. “But I’m thinking we might want to avoid that.”
