Page 62 of Trash the Dress

“I’m not ever in front of the camera, but for you, we’ll make it happen. We can put the camera on my tripod and set a timer. We’re losing the good light out here though,” I tell her.

“That’s okay. We can take some inside the house too. Or even on the front porch. I don’t care what the background is. I just want you in them with me…with us,” she says as she places our joined hands on her belly.

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to say no to that,” I tell her, and then kiss her knuckles as we walk toward the house.

“You’re not. I don’t think you’ve said no to me yet,” she says smiling up at me and then winks.

I laugh, one that bubbled up from somewhere deep. It feels good to laugh like that again. I’m not sure what I did to deserve her, but I’m thankful. She brought me back to life.

Once we make it back to the house, I find my tripod in my office and get it ready. Now all I need to do is pick a place and I’ll line up the perfect shot.

“Where do you want to be?” I ask as I come out of the office with my tripod and camera in hand.

“Do you think there’s enough light left outside to take a few on the front porch?”

“We can give it a try.” We walk out to the porch, and she sits in the double-seated wooden rocking chair.

While I was getting my camera together, she changed into a white dress and she’s barefoot. She has a light blue cardigan around her shoulders. I get everything lined up and set the timer. This setting will give me twenty seconds to get situated and take about that many pictures in a row.

There may be just enough light left for this to be the perfect picture. She stares up at me with a smile on her pretty pink lips as I approach. I take her hand and help her stand as I pull her back to my chest.

“What do you want me to do, Mr. Bailey?” she asks as she turns her face up to see me and I kiss her head.

“Do what feels natural. The pictures will tell the story of us right now. If you’ll remember, I can capture perfect moments with my camera when I believe in love. And, baby, you make me a believer.”

I kiss the tip of her nose, while my palm holds her pregnant bump protectively. She lays her hand on top of mine as her other one reaches up to hold my neck. I could live right here just like this. It’s the definition of “picture perfect.”

Once the shutter finishes, she turns to face me. “One more set like this,” I tell her.

I reset the camera, and we take some facing each other. When the shutter stops this time, she gazes up at me. “Can we take some more intimate ones?”

I raise a brow, intrigued, but not totally sure what she’s implying. “What do you mean byintimate?”

She smiles sweetly, but there’s a glint in her eye. “I mean, some that are more skin-to-skin, but not showing anything…private.”

My mind races with possibilities. “I think we can make that work. Follow me,” I say, just before I reach out to take her hand. I lead her to the living room and start a fire in the fireplace. I dim all the lights and lay one of my fluffiest blankets on the floor in front of the flames but not close enough to be burned.

“I’m going to grab my camera and the tripod from the porch. Undress to your underwear and we’ll go from there.”

When I come back in, she’s lying on her side watching the flames dance. I snap a picture before getting things set up, then I join her. I take my clothes off down to my boxers. She’s wearing cream-colored panties and a matching bra. They’re both made of lace and don’t leave a lot to the imagination.

As usual, my reaction to her is instant. I set the camera to take more pictures without me having to change it this time. We wrap the blanket around us, and kiss like no one is watching—technically, no one is except the camera lens. We move to where I’m sitting up and she’s propped against me, both of us holding her belly.

We eventually forget the camera all together, and we lie by the fireplace, watching the evening turn into night through my floor-to-ceiling windows out front.

“I never thanked you,” she says as she turns to face away from the windows and stares into my eyes.

“For what?” I ask, as my brows draw together in confusion.

“Thank you for choosing me.”

This woman. “I’d choose you every time in every situation, sunshine. I’ll always choose you. Don’t ever doubt it. It’s you and our little family over anyone or anything else.”

It dawns on me how true those words are. I wasn’t saying them to appease her. I mean them with all that I am. I thought love was out of the question for me until Scarlett came into my life. My thoughts have been the same on marriage…until this moment it would seem.

As I hold her close to me, I begin to contemplate giving her my last name. She’s giving me a son. She’s giving me everything. I may not have much to give in return, but my last name seems a good place to start.

I find myself wondering what she would look like walking down the aisle to become my wife. What dress would she pick? This whole thing started with trashing a wedding dress, and now I want her to wear one meant for me. What am I thinking?

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