Page 31 of Until Then

“You broke it first when you wore that dress.”

“Oh, so now a woman is being blamed for the actions of a man based on what she wears?” She snorts. “Typical.”

Okay. I clasp my hands behind my back. “Touché.”

I take an obvious step backward, throwing off the close proximity the photographer set up. Not a thing escapes the man, and he quickly insists I return to position. I baby step closer.

When the photographer bemoans once more, Hayley finally turns around. “What are you doing?”

“Honoring the truce. I’m not supposed to get close enough to breathe on you, right?”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re a toddler.” With one hand she yanks on my wrist. Bad idea. When she pulls me forward, my entire body seems to mold around her.

I clamp my jaw shut all to hold in a moan—I really, really don’t want to be a creep—and clench my fists around her hips.

I’m not disappointed when Hayley’s shoulders rise a little rougher, her breaths get a little deeper.

One heartbeat, and I lean forward. “Sorry, but I need to whisper again. For this series of pictures, it looks like he might want my hands on you. The photographer, I mean. He’s a bully, so I’d rather not draw his attention.”

“Oh, my gosh. Fine. We can be adults. Make it look like a prom picture, nothing else.”

“I can do that.” My palm slides around her waist, resting on her hip bone.

Don’t be an idiot. I fight back the compulsion to dig my fingers into her skin, and keep it tasteful. Keep it Senior Prom.

Hayley closes her eyes, and the next breath that slides between her teeth trembles. I spare a few smiles for a few pictures. Dozens of lens clicks later, Hayley’s back reclines a little firmer against my chest.

I blink, looking forward. Slowly, my thumb rubs little circles along the curve of her waist. She shifts side to side on her heels. A pretty flush reddens the skin around her neckline.

More clicks.

More adjustments.

Hayley’s head is almost resting on my shoulder, the slope of her neck bared. What I’d give to kiss her there.

What is wrong with me?

I still my thumb and straighten. There is something about this woman that makes me lose all senses. Like every thud of my heart pushes her deeper into my blood. I’ve desired women, but never to this point where I’m more like a hormonal teenager whenever she steps into my sights.

Time. Patience.

I can try for another chance with Hayley Foster, but I don’t need to have my hands all over her in the middle of Briar’s wedding photos.

When I move, Hayley seems to come back to her own senses and smooths her dress.

She takes a miniscule step forward, putting a decent gap between her shoulder blades and my chest.

“Lost myself a little. Sorry about that, Wildfire.”

Hayley sniffs. She doesn’t look at me. “Yeah, well . . . no one’s perfect.”

I chuckle and slip back into poses. The woman won’t even admit she fell into whatever this is between us as much as me. One day she’s going to need to say it—she might notwantto want me back, but I think she does.

There isn’t a drop of acting in my applause. For months I’ve heard Tyrell talk about the wedding while on set. For months, I’ve gotten texts from Briar asking for advice on her groom’s gift. For months, I thought this would be simply another wedding.

But now, watching them lift their entwined hands after being declared husband and wife, I feel like I’m about to split with happiness for them both.

Two awesome people just decided to build an awesome life together.

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