Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Mitch

“All right, just turn to your right a little more,” I coaxed, practically holding my spine in the most unnatural position known to man. I arched myself like some sea serpent, back as far as I could go, just to get the one perfect shot.

Giselle’s lips turned up into a perfect smile as she took my direction. A little more to my left, and the sun lit her up like an angel as her groom gazed upon her.

Click!

The fast clicks of the shutter echoed in the air, capturing the moment in time, preserving it forever.

“Okay, I think I got what I need, thanks,” I said as I forced my body back into an upright, natural position.

Aaron and Giselle scampered off hand in hand toward the doors of the Paradise Hotel, where everyone was gallivanting around on the terrace during cocktail hour.

I watched as the two of them ran off like two kids, snapping a few more candids as they did so.

But I couldn’t deny my jealousy.

I loved my job, truly. Being a part of my clients’ special occasions was something I didn’t take lightly. I loved capturing the love between people, the stolen moments. Put simply, I loved love. I just wish it loved me.

My family couldn’t understand how someone so entrenched in the business of love and weddings was a perpetual bachelor. It was a choice, I guess. Or at least that was what I told myself for years. It’s a lot easier to run a self-employed business when you’re the only one you have to answer to.

But lately, working weddings hadn’t felt the same.

I still loved photographing my clients but...

At the time, I had found myself feeling slighted by the over-presence of love in my life that had nothing to do with me.

I wanted those things too, but it just didn’t seem like it was going to happen. I’d been on dates, sure, but nothing ever really worked out. Not to mention the dating pool for an openly gay dude in Jasper Springs was practically nonexistent. When you lived in a small town like Jasper Springs, knowing everyone wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. When you were the premier photographer for the county, and everyone knew your name and your business, it was even worse. Knowing everyone can have its advantages sure, but it made dating a fucking bitch.

I followed behind the happy couple, strolling up the expanse of the perfectly manicured green knoll, toward the marble steps of the Paradise’s swanky terrace.

The guests were starting to arrive in full force, and so I made my rounds photographing candids of the guests and all the little details. The charcuterie boards, the champagne fountain, the gold foil etchings on the napkin.

Slipping past a group of black-tie suited guests, I made my way indoors to the Paradise’s grand ballroom. The outside of the hotel was gorgeous, as architecturally it was practically something out of Gone With The Wind.

But inside?

It dripped opulence, with its sparkling chandeliers, white marble floors, and ornate, high vaulted ceilings.

I’d done a lot of weddings in Jasper Springs and the surrounding areas, but I had to admit, Giselle and Aaron’s wedding took the cake. I was honestly surprised the fucking Pope didn’t show up with the amount of people that turned out for their wedding.

Thankfully, both Giselle and Aaron’s families were quite well off, so renting out the entirety of Jasper Springs’s most sought after venue was nothing to them.

I sauntered around the inside, taking my detail photos, my candids of the arriving guests. Soon enough, it would be time for dinner, and I was fucking starving .

My stomach grumbled, and I silently cursed myself. If I hadn’t have been so rushed that morning because I overslept, I would have had time to eat more than a pop tart and a mocha Double Shot.

The breakfast of photographers everywhere.

I found my way over to the elaborately decorated wedding cake, which was all of five tiers. Though, I guess it fit right in with Giselle’s style, the layers of ivory cream speckled with gold leaf and deep, burgundy flowers cascading down the side.

I set up my camera, working the angles of the giant cake, noting the smoothness of the icing. I’d seen a lot of cakes in my years, but this one was absolutely perfect. It almost didn’t look real.

A part of me was impressed, knowing the disasters that could happen when transporting a cake, especially one that big.

After taking my shots, I turned to do some crowd photos, noticing as I scanned the room, someone I most certainly didn’t recognize.

He was dressed far more casual than the rest of the guests, which told me he was likely hired help.

Perhaps he was with the catering or the Paradise event staff?

I settled my lens as I looked through, noticing his side profile. With the zoom on and the lens I was using, the chandeliers and background blurred into bokeh—a soft, out-of-focus background with faded glittery spots—as Pretty Boy and his side profile became the focus.

From the angle, his blond hair caught flecks of gold from the chandeliers, his pale blue eyes standing out in stark contrast against his fair complexion and dark lashes.

He casually cocked his head in thought, his wistful gaze set on someone or something, but that didn’t matter to me.

Snap!

I watched through my lens as he licked his lips, as his eyebrows furrowed, and something in my chest snapped at the same time as the shutter.

I understood that look of longing.

That look of wishful thinking.

I lowered my camera, if only for a moment, gazing at Pretty Boy in his lavender button down, looking at a couple dancing. The look of heartbreak on his face was unmistakable, and I had the craziest feeling, that I wanted to go over there and hug him. Maybe even ask him to dance, if only to take his mind off something that was causing him such evident pain. Despite the fact I didn’t know how to dance like half the people were on the dance floor to whatever cocktail hour shit was being played.

Surely such a thing was crazy, right?

I didn’t even know the guy.

“Mitch! There you are!” Grayson said, his bright Colgate-smile tearing me away from the nameless Pretty Boy.

I gazed up at the bride’s brother, dressed to the nines, of course, in his flashy tux, with a martini in hand.

“Something I can do for you, Grayson?” I asked, glancing back to see mystery pretty boy had disappeared.

“Actually, there is,” he said, flashing me a grin.