“Do you and gates have a history? Did one chase you with a whip and traumatize you as a child?”
He grinned at the image. “Something like that. All I’ll say is that it involved a gate, a happy bull, some surprised cows and a furious father.”
Her eyes lit up with interest. “That sounds like a story worth hearing.”
And oddly he wanted to tell her, only that wasn’t how he was supposed to be feeling because she was everything in a woman he didn’t want. “Put it this way, I’ve never left a gate open since. Now you’re fully briefed on all things gates, you’ll avoid a similar trauma so I’ll leave you to it.” He turned to go and Mac rose to his feet.
“Actually,” her voice cajoled, “seeing as you’re here, can you be my model?”
He spun back, not sure he’d heard right. “What?”
Her smooth hair swung as her mouth formed a wry smile. “It would really help me if you stood in a few different places so I can check the shadows and the light. If I have a person in the photo, Connie will be able to picture it all a lot better.”
“I’m not a bride.”
“So be the groom.”
He wasn’t planning on being either of those things. “Use Mac to stand in for the bride.” He deliberately palmed his forehead. “Oh, sorry, that won’t work, he’s not batshit crazy.”
Erin shook her head emphatically. “Connie isn’t crazy either. She just knows what she wants, which in a lot of ways is easier than a bride who constantly changes her mind.”
Luke wasn’t convinced about the crazy part.
“This is going to be the most fabulous setting when the flowers open and the photos will be stunning.” She threw her arms out and spun around, her face filling with a dreamy look.
A heavy feeling dragged at Luke, as if he was missing something.
The spinning stopped abruptly as her feet stilled and the dreamy look vanished. She hit him with an intense stare. “The flowers will open in time, right?”
He rocked back on his boots, surveying the bulging heads that were so very close to opening. “They should, unless we get an unexpected cold snap or a hail storm that decimates the entire field.”
She blanched, her features looking stark and pinched. “Is that likely to happen?”
He shrugged. “In farming, anything can happen. In a lot of ways it’s an inexact science because there’s only so much you can control.”
Her whole body jerked as if she’d just been shocked.
“The weather must be perfect because this shoot has to work.”
Her reaction and forceful tone surprised him because as a photographer she must be used to dealing with brides and inclement weather. “If it’s a complete disaster there are other places you can use for your difficult bride, like the covered bridge and Mrs. Norell’s garden.” He rubbed his neck. “Although if hail flattens this, it’ll probably take out those gardens too.”
“And that’s you trying to reassure me?” She shook her head slowly as if she couldn’t quite believe her ears. “For a moment there, I’d forgotten farmers are pessimists.”
“Hey!” He took offense at being cast as a naysayer. “I’m not being negative. I’m just being a realist. You asked would the field flower on time, and I gave you the facts.”
“The facts...” She stared at him for a long, contemplative moment. “You’re a guy so of course you gave me all the facts because facts are important.”
“Damn straight, they are.”
Her face creased in a genuine smile. “My brother’s always giving me the facts. Sorry, it’s just this shoot is really important to me.”
Me? He raised a brow. “Isn’t it supposed to be important to the bride?”
“Yes. I meant the bride.” She sounded defensive and her body seemed to bustle with exaggerated movement as her hands tied the leash around a fence post. “So, is your dog going to play nice with Maggie-May while we do this?”
He got the distinct impression she wanted to change the subject. “Mac will
He grinned at the image. “Something like that. All I’ll say is that it involved a gate, a happy bull, some surprised cows and a furious father.”
Her eyes lit up with interest. “That sounds like a story worth hearing.”
And oddly he wanted to tell her, only that wasn’t how he was supposed to be feeling because she was everything in a woman he didn’t want. “Put it this way, I’ve never left a gate open since. Now you’re fully briefed on all things gates, you’ll avoid a similar trauma so I’ll leave you to it.” He turned to go and Mac rose to his feet.
“Actually,” her voice cajoled, “seeing as you’re here, can you be my model?”
He spun back, not sure he’d heard right. “What?”
Her smooth hair swung as her mouth formed a wry smile. “It would really help me if you stood in a few different places so I can check the shadows and the light. If I have a person in the photo, Connie will be able to picture it all a lot better.”
“I’m not a bride.”
“So be the groom.”
He wasn’t planning on being either of those things. “Use Mac to stand in for the bride.” He deliberately palmed his forehead. “Oh, sorry, that won’t work, he’s not batshit crazy.”
Erin shook her head emphatically. “Connie isn’t crazy either. She just knows what she wants, which in a lot of ways is easier than a bride who constantly changes her mind.”
Luke wasn’t convinced about the crazy part.
“This is going to be the most fabulous setting when the flowers open and the photos will be stunning.” She threw her arms out and spun around, her face filling with a dreamy look.
A heavy feeling dragged at Luke, as if he was missing something.
The spinning stopped abruptly as her feet stilled and the dreamy look vanished. She hit him with an intense stare. “The flowers will open in time, right?”
He rocked back on his boots, surveying the bulging heads that were so very close to opening. “They should, unless we get an unexpected cold snap or a hail storm that decimates the entire field.”
She blanched, her features looking stark and pinched. “Is that likely to happen?”
He shrugged. “In farming, anything can happen. In a lot of ways it’s an inexact science because there’s only so much you can control.”
Her whole body jerked as if she’d just been shocked.
“The weather must be perfect because this shoot has to work.”
Her reaction and forceful tone surprised him because as a photographer she must be used to dealing with brides and inclement weather. “If it’s a complete disaster there are other places you can use for your difficult bride, like the covered bridge and Mrs. Norell’s garden.” He rubbed his neck. “Although if hail flattens this, it’ll probably take out those gardens too.”
“And that’s you trying to reassure me?” She shook her head slowly as if she couldn’t quite believe her ears. “For a moment there, I’d forgotten farmers are pessimists.”
“Hey!” He took offense at being cast as a naysayer. “I’m not being negative. I’m just being a realist. You asked would the field flower on time, and I gave you the facts.”
“The facts...” She stared at him for a long, contemplative moment. “You’re a guy so of course you gave me all the facts because facts are important.”
“Damn straight, they are.”
Her face creased in a genuine smile. “My brother’s always giving me the facts. Sorry, it’s just this shoot is really important to me.”
Me? He raised a brow. “Isn’t it supposed to be important to the bride?”
“Yes. I meant the bride.” She sounded defensive and her body seemed to bustle with exaggerated movement as her hands tied the leash around a fence post. “So, is your dog going to play nice with Maggie-May while we do this?”
He got the distinct impression she wanted to change the subject. “Mac will
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