But if she didn’t approach Adam tonight, she might never have the chance again…
“So, what’s it gonna be?” Bruno waggled his brows.
Misty sighed. “I really oughta go. Sorry, Bruno. I need to get back to work.”
“Okay, then. I’ll be sure to tell your friend you said hello.” His snarky tone made her stomach roil. “Want me to see you out?”
“No, thanks.” She gave a weak smile and stood, taking the champagne with her for the lonely walk. “I’ll be fine.”
Adam adjusted the focus on the hot little number in the tight black dress strutting like she stepped out of a music video. Of all the folks from Scenic View, she was the one person he’d hoped to run into. The only girl in high school who didn’t put out to fit in.
He peeked over the tripod to be sure his vision wasn’t playing wicked tricks on him.
Nope. He’d recognize that angelic face anywhere.
Had he known in kindergarten what he knew now about the wiles of women, he would have staked his claim on her years ago when he had the chance.
Thank God, she wasn’t one of today’s brides. That would’ve sucked—to be photographing his dream-girl’s wedding. Instead, she was hanging with the big blonde dude who’d been giving him goo-goo eyes all afternoon.
Adam switched the camera mode from photo to video—for fun, for himself, for later, in case she kept going and didn’t hear him call her name.
“Misty?” He stepped in her path to catch her before she blew by like hell on heels. “Misty Morningside?”
She gasped. The champagne flute slipped from her fingers and smashed on the hardwood floor. “You remember me?” she whispered, nearly inaudible, but Adam was sure he heard her right.
“Careful.” He nudged her out of the broken glass, taking her hand as she wobbled in those super-sexy unstable shoes.
She was warm and soft and whatever magical power she possessed made him tingle where skin touched skin. The same
zing
he’d experienced the first day of kindergarten when they held hands in the hallway, walking side-by-side in two straight lines. He kept his crush a secret all the way until twelfth grade. Wasted the years wondering if she noticed him the way he noticed her.
Her glazed gaze looked right through him as if she didn’t know him at all.
“I’m Adam. Adam Wright. From Scenic View High.”
She stood still as a poster, clutching her thin bag under her arm, until she finally blinked and nodded. “I know who you are. I’m surprised to see you—surprised you know my name.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Well, it’s been a dozen years since graduation.”
“Come on, Misty—who could forget a name like that or a face like yours?”
She blushed, and Adam would have cupped her cheek to see if it felt as red-hot as it appeared, but it seemed out of line in the moment. He didn’t want to make her more uncomfortable than she already appeared.
However, he also didn’t want to let her go. Not this time. They were still holding hands, her dainty fingers curled in his, so that was a good sign.
“I heard through the grapevine you were living in Australia. Or Europe. Or Asia. Someplace on the other side of the planet.”
“I was. But I’m back. I’ll tell you about it if you’d like to catch up sometime.”
“Sure. Okay. That would be great.”
Thrilled and relieved by her response, he released her fingertips to grab the camera hanging around his neck. “I’ve got some work to do now.” A line of couples formed at the lattice archway better suited for a prom. “You’re not leaving yet, are you?” A keeper like Misty must have better plans for Valentine’s Day other than working.
“No way.” She shooed the words away. “Cake is my favorite part next to cocktail hour. I’m heading to the bar. Want a beer or something?”
“No, thanks. I don’t drink on the job.”
“Water? Soda?”
“Just bring yourself back.” He winked then immediately wanted to punch himself in the mouth for sounding like a pickup artist.
“Okay.” Misty slinked away with a sultry smile.
Adam’s gaze followed her backside until she disappeared in the crowd.
Minutes felt like hours, making it difficult to concentrate on his craft until she returned, double-fisted with champagne flutes.
“Thirsty?” He teased. If she kept drinking at this rate she’d be laid-up in no time—on her back, in his hotel room if he were lucky.
“Very.”
“So, those are like, what—numbers two and three for the night?”
“More like twelve and thirteen.” She giggled and shook her head. “Just kidding. I don’t remember. I stopped keeping track. Why? Does it matter?”
“If ya plan on driving home it does.”
“Home?” She shrugged as if the thought hadn’t crossed her pretty little head. “I’ll get home just fine. Dontcha worry,” she slurred.
Adam redirected his attention on the next couple under the arch while Misty kept him company.
“Just like that.” Snap.
“Okay, now drop your hand.” Snap.
“Turn toward me.” Snap.
“Raise your chin.” Snap. “Next couple please.”
“Hold it a sec.” Misty set down her glass to tuck in the bride’s bra strap and wipe lipstick from her teeth with a tissue. She tweaked the groom’s bow tie and straightened his boutonnière. Despite a
few
drinks in her blood, she was a meticulous professional. “That’s better. Carry on.”
“You’d make a great photo assistant,” Adam said more than once.
Each time, Misty smiled bright.
When the couples sat down for the main course, it was the vendors’ turn to take headshots against an ivory wall in the anteroom. Once again Misty fine-tuned everyone’s appearance, but when it came to her individual photo she was nowhere in sight.
“I had to fix my makeup,” she claimed, glassy-eyed, with red glossy lips.
“No problem. We’ll take yours at the end. Let’s go—it’s cake cutting time.”
Posing would’ve gone smoother if the participants weren’t blitzed out of their minds after sucking down hours’ worth of free booze. Miraculously no one fell into the seven-tier monstrosity.
After the last dance, he was done and could finally get some alone time with Misty.
She collapsed in a chair beside him while he packed his equipment.
“I didn’t eat anything tonight.” His gut growled as a painful reminder. “Did you?”
“I didn’t get a chance.” Stretching her arms languidly behind her head, she rubbed the back of her neck.
“Not even a bite of cake?”
“Nope. The food looked good though.”
No, you look good—better than good.
He was tired but still had enough wits to refrain from saying the thoughts fueled by his sex-infused fantasy. “You did all that drinking on an empty stomach?”
“I had a few candy hearts.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“I didn’t mean to hijack your night.”
“Adam…” Misty’s voice deepened to a husky whisper, an effect of too much champagne, no doubt. Still, the vibration traveled straight to his trousers, inspiring him to taste those bow-shaped lips and more, if not for the staff clearing away the dirty dishes. “You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do.”
“I—uhh…” On the brink of making a daring wrong move, he stepped back, controlling his raging pulse with a deep breath. “I appreciate your help.” He enjoyed the pleasure of her company even more but kept that info to himself. “My assistant couldn’t make it tonight. Are you sure you don’t want to switch from selling gowns to taking photos?” he joked, half-serious.
“Are you kidding?” She hid a yawn in her hands. “Photos are more work. You have to stay for the whole party. My job ends once the bride picks up her dress. I’m only here to represent the boutique. Otherwise I’d be home—in bed.”
Home in bed
alone
, Adam hoped but doubted it.
“Remember the fourth grade Favorite Person Valentine’s Day Square Dance?” Adam rustled up the nearly lost memory.
“God, how could I forget? My dad wore one of the ponchos Mom crocheted thinking he looked like Clint Eastwood in
A Fistful of Dollars
. What an embarrassing night—thanks for reminding me.”
“I thought it was fun.”
“Do-si-do’ing and all that nonsense—you have a warped idea of fun.”
Adam shrugged. “Well, it was fun for me—getting a turn to be your partner, swinging you around the dancefloor arm in arm—we laughed so hard. I dunno, maybe I’m recalling it wrong.”
“No.” Misty bowed her head. “You got it right. I thought the best part was getting a chance to dance with you, too. I wasn’t sure if you’d remember.”
“I couldn’t forget you if I tried.”
Sweet little Misty Morningside turned out to be a sexy, sophisticated, successful woman. Any man with a fraction of a brain would’ve snatched her up by now. Imagining her with another man had his curiosity cooking. “So, what?—no big Valentine’s Day plans?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
She jutted her bottom lip and lifted a careless shoulder. “I just don’t.”
Good to know
. Adam kept his sly smile to himself.
“Wanna grab dinner then?”
“Where? Like, the diner?”
“Nah.” He waved away her suggestion. “We’re already here. Let’s try the lounge.” The alternative would be room service in his suite but that might be pushing things too far too soon.
“Well…” Misty stood and smoothed the hem of her dress, clutching the thin purse like a life preserver.
By the earnest glow in her heavenly blue eyes, she seemed to consider his offer, wavering on the edge of staying, however he didn’t want his zealousness to send her hurling toward the exit.
“No pressure.” Adam kept his smile neutral and his mind on the task of folding the tripod. “Just old friends catching up.”
“Ohhh…sure, friends, I know.” She hesitated and he sensed her nervousness. “Yes, of course.”
“Great!” Adam piped up like an over-eager pre-teen, but maybe she didn’t notice the magnitude of his enthusiasm because she didn’t run for the parking lot. He pulled his wallet from his back pants pocket. “Take this. I’ll meet’cha in a few minutes. I just wanna lock up my equipment.”
“I don’t need your credit card.” Misty chuckled.
“Take it. Order a few appetizers to hold you over ’til I get there.”
“No, really. It’s okay.” She held it out, expecting him to take it.
But Adam hustled toward the door, headed for the hotel lobby with Misty barely able to keep up in those stilts. “I’ve got cash,” she called, gasping.
Over his shoulder, without breaking his stride, he warned, “Don’t you dare!”
“Adam, wait!” Misty chased him on wobbly legs but couldn’t catch up.
Damn, the man moved fast
. Even maneuvering the hefty luggage-sized camera case on wheels like a dead limb. He was as quick now as he’d been on the playground; trying to catch the lightning boy during freeze tag was impossible.
When she reached the lobby, he was already gone.
“Damn, damn, dammity-damn,” she gasped, clenching her fists, wishing she’d never agreed to dinner, especially after noticing the glittery band of scrolled gold on his left ring finger. Her stomach churned just as it had at Britney Tanner’s Sweet Sixteen party, seeing the birthday girl hand-in-hand with Adam. Although their relationship only lasted a few hours, it felt like eternity to Misty.
The smart thing would have been to keep walking once the wedding ring caught her attention, but Adam turned her willpower to mush.
She couldn’t blame it all on him. Even without his influence, she’d selfishly stuck around, craving his company once she realized they were in the same space, breathing the same air, as if he were some kind of rock star. What’s worse was, despite her better judgment, she enjoyed every minute of it.
The more she thought about her illicit desires for the taken man, the worse she felt. Misty knew how much cheating hurts.
The reality of a possible romantic reunion was now a watered-down friendly formality. For herself. For Adam. For his
wife
. Popping into the diner for a burger and onion rings was one thing. But anything to do with the swanky lounge at the Scenic View Inn screamed ambiance, alcohol, and adultery.
“Be polite. Be professional. Return his credit card. Then go home. End of story.” She repeated the words under her breath like a mantra. “Business. Not pleasure.”
With the rustic hotel’s everyday nautical decor replaced by romantic renditions of red heart art, there was no escaping the love in the air tonight other than to leave the building.
Still, she followed the slick tile floor until it turned to sensible Berber. Thank God for the thin padding, the balls of her feet felt like she’d walked through blazes. These new sexy shoes were good for nothing other than sitting and looking pretty. Or laying on her back, but she quickly whipped that wild idea back into its cage.
“Now’s not the time. Here’s not the place. And
he’s
definitely not the man,” she mumbled, referring to her own situation rather than the couple leaning against the frosted glass doors under
The Lookout Lounge’s
neon sign, sucking-face and blocking traffic. “Oops, sorry, not talking about you.” She politely pushed past without interrupting their lip-lock.
It wasn’t that Misty was
against
romance—hell, it was a major part of her job. Since the recent reorganization of her life that bumped her career to the highest priority, everyone and everything came last, including her starving libido. It was a good thing Adam was married because there was no room in her life for a relationship.
However, a one-night stand was something she might’ve considered…
Damn, damn, dammity-damn, why’d he have to be married?
A seat at the bar would have been perfect but, like Adam, they were taken. “That’s it—keep reminding yourself, he’s taken and you’re preoccupied. That’s a perfect asexual friendship.”