13. Chapter Peek

Meg

The afternoon sun filtered through the wall of windows, casting a warm glow on the repurposed antique floorboards that served as my makeshift desk. I shoved another box against the exposed brick, wiping sweat from my brow as I surveyed my new space.

A string of tinsel left over from the previous tenants still clung to one of the exposed pipes, sparkling cheerfully in the sunlight. It seemed out of place with the industrial vibe, but I didn’t have the heart to take it down yet. I’d always had a soft spot for even the most silly, cliche holiday decor. It was a bit of a mess, with half-unpacked equipment, vintage cameras scattered about, and piles of props waiting to find a home, but it was mine.

After years of roaming around from rental to rental, never quite feeling at home, I was determined to finally put down some studio roots in my old hometown of Seashell Cove.

It wasn’t exactly where I’d pictured myself ending up when I was young, full of artistic ambitions, ready to take on the world. But now, as a twice-divorced single mom whose babies had grown up way too fast, it felt like the right place to start over.

No place like home and all that.

I had just peeled the plastic off the small neon open sign to hang in the window when the front door flew wide. I nearly dropped the sign as I whipped around, prepared to give whoever barged in a piece of my mind. Instead, I came face to face with a ghost from my past.

Ryker West.

In worn jeans and a black button down, sleeves rolled up, revealing impressively toned forearms, he somehow looked even better than he did in high school. Casual, sexy, yet pulled-together in a way I never felt I’d been able to achieve.

He’d aged well, dammit.

Geez. How does that even happen. Men are so lucky.

His dark, wavy hair with threads of silver, coupled with slight crinkles around his eyes gave him a distinguished air his boyish looks once lacked. But his presence still dominated a room, with that confident tilt of the head and penetrating gaze.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Meg Daniels, the girl least likely to ever come back to her hometown,” he drawled, the slightest curl of amusement on his lips.

My hackles rose, back stiffening like a cranky cat. Ryker and I had a tumultuous history. We dated in high school, but we were also fiercely competitive with each other. Things had never been what I’d classify as easy with us.

I forced myself to relax, tossing him a playful smile, shoving aside old feelings. “Ryker West, Seashell Cove’s very own golden boy. Still shining bright, I see. Just couldn’t resist the allure of small town fame, could ya?”

He laughed. “Touché. I heard you’d moved back to town. Didn’t believe it until now,” he said, stepping farther into the studio, invading my space, taking up all the air.

He always stole all the air.

He’d been larger than life to my high school heart. Apparently, some things didn’t change. Ryker gestured around at the mess. “So you really went all in with this photography thing, huh?”

I crossed my arms. “What, surprised I didn’t just stay married and pop out babies until I expired? Sorry to disappoint.”

He held up his hands in mock defense. “Hey now, retract the claws, no need to attack. I’m just here on business.”

“Business?” I arched a brow.

“Yea. Seems I need a photographer, ASAP. My company’s annual Wintertide gala is in a few weeks and the dumbass I booked bailed. I remember you were snapping pictures constantly back in the day. When I heard you blew back in town, figured it couldn’t hurt to look you up and see if you were still doing it.”

I fought the involuntary smile tugging at my lips. The cool, commanding Ryker West, asking lil old me for a favor? This was too good. High school Ryker was too proud to ask anyone for anything. He demanded and people jumped.

Except you, Meg old girl.

Clearly, teenage habits died hard. “So… you want me to just drop everything and photograph your corporate holiday shindig?” I gestured at the chaos around the room. “I’m barely unpacked here. Should I wear a festive tutu too? Maybe a little elf hat? It’s Christmas, after all.”

Ryker crossed his arms, mimicking my stance. Damn him and those sexy, cut forearms.

Whyyyy, God. Whyyyy do men get to age so well?

He cleared his throat and interrupted my inner whine fest. “No need for a tutu. Name your price, Meg. Please. I’m kind of in a bind here.” His tone was gruff and growly, deeper than I remembered. It sent a tiny shiver of awareness along my spine and made my libido perk up and say cheese.

Down, girl. You are so not getting involved with a man again. Let alone your high school flame. Nuh uh.

I tapped my chin, considering. It wasn’t ideal timing, and I preferred more creative projects than event and promo photography. But I did need clients, and fast. And some small, petty part of me was intrigued by the idea of watching the beautiful and commanding Ryker West squirm while having to rely on my help.

“Triple my normal rate, a printed credit in the event program, and full right to use the pics in my portfolio,” I offered, lifting my chin. My gaze flashed with defiance. I honestly didn’t expect him to say yes, my normal rate was exorbitant on its own.

Ryker didn’t even blink.

“Deal. I’ll have my assistant email you the details. I’ll need some pre-event promotional shots too. So those will have to be a quick turnaround to get them out in time.” He turned to leave but paused, his unreadable gray gaze traveling the length of my body in a way that made my skin heat before meeting mine again. He leaned close, his voice a low murmur, “It’s really good to see you, Meg. It’ll be... interesting... working with you.”

And with that, he straightened and strode out. I cursed at my inability to tear my eyes away from him as he left. A glimpse of a tiny dancing plastic Santa strapped to his keychain caught my gaze as he walked out, at odds with the rest of his casually put-together appearance. Apparently Ryker had adopted my penchant for kitschy holiday paraphernalia.

Interesting.

This little arrangement was sure to come with complications. But as I hung the open sign in the window with more force than necessary, I couldn’t deny that a part of me was looking forward to the challenge.

After I hung up the sign, I found myself temporarily frozen, leaning back against the brick wall for support. His unexpected arrival had sent my nerves into overdrive, heart pounding fiercely in a way it hadn’t in years.

I let my eyes fall closed, inhaling deeply to steady myself as a wave of memories washed over me. I could almost smell the coconut bonfires from our high school beach parties, hear the drunken laughter of teens without a care swirling around me. Feel Ryker’s strong arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me close as we swayed under the stars to some sappy love song. When things were good with us, they were really good.

But that was a lifetime ago.

Back when I thought I could be anything I wanted. Before the fiery passion of youth was slowly extinguished by years of child-rearing, domestic drudgery, and unfulfilling marriages.

No regrets on my kids though.

They were the light of my life. But the carefree girl Ryker once knew was long gone.

And yet... seeing him again rekindled feelings I thought were dormant for good. A spark of rebellion, of desire. I despised the arrogant air of authority he still carried, but damned if I didn’t still find it the tiniest bit sexy too.

No. I shook my head, banishing the dangerous thoughts.

This is a business transaction, Meg. Just business.

More than that, despite my misgivings, it was an opportunity, a stepping stone to jumpstart my dreams of rebuilding a new life here as a photographer, away from the city and all the reminders of my failures and lost years.

Nothing more.

I busied myself with clearing another box, needing burn off some angst. But my hands shook slightly, fumbling with the packing tape. I couldn’t remember the last time a man had sparked such intense emotions.

Lies. You do too remember. It was with Ryker. It was always Ryker.

I shoved my hands through my sleek curtain of hair, tamed ruthlessly with a flatiron today, and refused to entertain those thoughts and give them a foothold. I didn’t come back here for Ryker.

At least, I didn’t think I did.

Get it together, Meg. Don’t let him get in your head. You’re not that carefree girl making eyes at the hot quarterback anymore. You’re stronger now, wiser. A grown woman who runs her own business, pays her own bills, answers to no one. You’ve got this.

Satisfied with my mental pep talk, I spent the next hour unpacking more boxes as the sun beamed through the windows and dust motes danced in the air. When I finished, I grabbed my camera bag and got to work testing equipment and scouting locations around the open studio space. If I was going to blow Ryker and his uppity event guests away with amazing photos, I had some planning to do.

The thrill of a new creative challenge coursed through me. I had a vision in mind, inspired by the late afternoon light I loved so much in my new space. This party would have warmth, intimacy, meaning… not just the cold holiday glamour Ryker likely envisioned. The more I thought about it and envisioned it, the more excited I got. I could prove myself to him, and the town, with this one event.

As I played with some test shots, adjusting lighting and angles, I felt that familiar sense of purpose and peace fill me. It was the same purpose I’d felt peering through my very first camera lens as a child. It was then I discovered my love for capturing the beauty and emotion of a single moment. I was thankful I didn’t give up on it.

I smiled.

Maybe returning home would be better than I expected.

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