Page 11 of Love Off-Limits
He smiled. “To match your eyes.” He peeled off a green sticker and pressed it onto the back of my hand then put a blue one on the front pocket of his shirt. I grinned at the sight. It made him look a little more like an adorable kindergarten teacher than a sexy groomsman.
“What do you think?” Tyler said, smirking, his dark eyes flashing in the faint light.
Amend that thought. Asexykindergarten teacher. Definitely still sexy.
“You’re adorable.”
He closed the hatch of his Jeep and locked it.
“What are the binoculars for?”
“There’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight,” he said. “If we get far enough away from the reception lights, we might be able to see something.”
We passed back through the reception tent long enough to grab Tyler’s jacket and my purse before we wound up on a gently sloping hillside on the opposite side of the river. We crossed a covered bridge which I imagined was perfectly picturesque in the daylight and found a quiet spot beside a grove of azaleas, their white blooms shining in the moonlight.
“It’s beautiful here,” I said as I helped Tyler spread out the blanket.
“Most of the time,” he said. “August and September are brutal enough heat-wise, you don’t care whether it’s pretty or not.”
“It gets hot sometimes in the mountains, but it always cools down at night. That helps, I think. And I don’t think it’s quite as humid.” I dropped onto the blanket next to him, close enough that our arms touched. We leaned back, side by side, and stared into the night sky. The longer I looked at the stars, the more I could see.
“That’s Cassiopeia,” he said, pointing. “See how it looks like an upside-down chair? And over there is Ursa Major.”
“The big dipper,” I said, following his gaze. “I used to do a little star gazing with my dad.” I reached for the binoculars. “That’s Mars, right? The orangey one?” I aimed the binoculars and adjusted their focus until the edges of the planet sharpened. It wasn’t as good as the telescope I’d used with my dad by any stretch, but it still made it look slightly more like a planet and less like a star. “Here, look. It’s pretty clear.” I handed him the binoculars, then leaned closer so my head brushed up against his arm. While he looked, a pair of shooting stars darted across the sky.
“I saw one!” I said with a gasp, grabbing his elbow. The movement jostled his arms and bumped the binoculars into his face.
“Oof,” he said, shifting the binoculars away and reaching for his nose.
“Oh no, are you okay?” I pushed up on my elbow, looking down at him. I reached out a hand in sympathy, hoping I hadn’t done any real damage. His face was too pretty to mess up.
He caught my hand and pressed it against his chest. “It was just a bump. It’s fine.”
I relaxed back onto the blanket but left my hand on his chest, feeling the thump, thump of his heart through the soft cotton of his dress shirt. There was something intensely comforting about his heartbeat—a striking reminder of his solid warmth and presence next to me.
A sudden pulse of longing swelled up inside me. I didn’t want to leave him in the morning. I didn’t want to leave him at all.
“Have you only ever worked for Isaac?” I asked tentatively.
“Since I was sixteen.”
I pressed my fingertips into his chest, suddenly wondering if the skin beneath was as soft as his shirt.Softer, probably.
“Have you ever thought about doing anything else?”
It was a stupid question. Because I shouldn’t care about the answer. Icouldn’tcare about the answer. Tyler Marino wasnotthe man for me. But lying on a blanket under the stars, the heavy South Carolina humidity liquefying my limbs and softening the edges of my resolve, Ididcare. Desperately.
“I’ve thought about it,” Tyler finally said. “But I’m not sure what I would do. The only thing I have to recommend me is my experience. That could get me a job somewhere else doing what I’m doing now, but then, why leave, you know? If I left, it would have to be for something really different.”
There was a hint of longing in his voice, like maybe he wished therewassomething different.
“Do you like what you do?” I asked. “Filming?”
“Sure,” he said. “I like the challenges it presents. Trying to capture just the right shot in ways that will tell the best story.”
“We use videographers at Stonebrook all the time,” I said. “For weddings, reunions, retreats, that sort of thing.” That probably wasn’t different enough from what he was doing now to sound very enticing.
Tyler stilled. “Really?” He rolled to his side and propped himself up on his elbow, and I did the same so that we faced each other.
