Page 101 of Revenge Honeymoon

“Max,” she whispered in his ear as he worked his way across her collarbone.

“Yes, Sweetness?” he answered in that dark, sexy voice that made her heart flutter.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

Epilogue

Six months later...

Max stepped behind his camera set up on a tripod in the Smalls’ family kitchen and focused his lens on the plate of freshly fried chicken and the accompanying sides of marinated veggie salad, cornbread muffins, and Mrs. Small’s famous potato salad.

“Can we hurry this up?” Emily asked. Did he not realize she had three more picnic combos to plate? “The garnish is wilting on the baby back ribs, and I still don’t know if I got the look right on the macaroni and cheese. More shredded cheddar?” She held a block of cheese and a grater over the cooling side dish waiting on the granite countertop.

“I want your website to look as professional as possible.” He adjusted a chicken thigh by two millimeters, then took another photo. “I know I told you I hadn’t done food shots before, but there’s this guy on TikTok who gives you the behind the scenes on how they do it for the restaurant chains. Just give me a chance to try a few things and see what turns out best.”

Emily smiled weakly. “Okay, Bae.” After cooking for most of the day, the counters were littered with dirty measuring spoons, mixing bowls, frying pans, and even a dozen corn cob holders she thought would look cute until Max said no.

It was really, really nice he wanted to do this for her, and she knew the pictures would all come out fantastic. If she’d learned anything about Max in the last five months since he’d moved to Roanoke, it was that he was a bit of a perfectionist when it came to his photography.

Time to take a breath.

No need to stress.

Everything would be okay.

Emily breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. She learned that in the yoga class they took the last day-at-sea on the cruise. Ruby had more money to spend from her wedding reception bust, so they’d splurged on a Private Hot Yoga Session with Andre. Max had wanted to join for some reason and ended up giving the instructor the side eye the whole time without really performing any of the yoga moves accurately.

But was the breathing really doing anything to bring down her stress levels? She had two picnics scheduled on Saturday—one client wanted a Low Country Boil, the other a bunch of fancy little sandwiches and cakes as part of her Two for Tea Picnic Package. After all the photos were done, she still had to clean up, shop for her clients, and check out that one-bedroom apartment on the other side of town.

“Okay, I think I got it.” Max looked up from his camera. Those green eyes shocked her every time she saw them. So damned sexy. What did it matter if she had to painstakingly follow his instructions for arranging the food just so? Afterwards, they could sneak down to the basement and maybe test out the recliner chair in the corner. How far back did it tilt?

Max cleared his throat. “Earth to Emily.”

Heat crept into her cheeks.

“What were you thinking, bad girl?” Maxwell the Serious Professional Photographer disappeared and Max the Super-Hot Boyfriend took his place. “Whatever it is, don’t stop thinking it.” He swooped in for a kiss.

Emily never tired of those full delicious lips kissing hers. This time he tasted like the lemon bars he’d photographed earlier that day.

Max grabbed an ass cheek.

Emily crawled her hands up under his form-fitting henley.

“Hey, FedEx just delivered something for you.” Hunter, Emily’s super annoying older brother, sailed into the kitchen and dumped a package next to her. “Oh, you two weren’t busy or something, were you?” He grinned, pointed at them both, and backed away.

The kissing couple broke apart.

She picked up the slim envelope and whacked her brother on the head.

“Hey, those are my proofs from the MacPhersons!” Max snatched it out of her hands. “Ruby would kill you if you damaged these. The ads are going live nationwide in a month. I have to make sure they’re perfect.”

“They will be.” Emily narrowed her eyes at her dumb-dumb brother. He was thirty-one and acted as if he were twelve. “Don’t you have something better to do than hang around mom and dad’s house on a Wednesday afternoon?” She stroked her chin. “Oh, wait a minute, that’s right, you don’t have a job.”

“I’m between careers,” he corrected. “At least my girlfriend isn’t living in our parent’s basement.”

Max shot Hunter a scathing look. “Temporarily. We’ve got that apartment showing...tomorrow, Sweetness?”