He was alone. Alone and not in work mode. He had two modes and I recognized this one almost as easily as I recognized the other one. He’d finished up a photo shoot not that long ago and he was decompressing. I tried not to think about how it was so easy for me to know something like that. “Is taking pictures like sex for you?” The question popped out of me before I even knew I was thinking it and I clamped a hand over my mouth in horror. Dammit! I couldn’t even be around him without thinking about sex. I closed my eyes. “Sorry. Shoot me now.” I heard a faint laugh. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” The amusement in his voice made me open my eyes, but I couldn’t see anything on his face. He glanced past me before looking back at me again. “Why’re you here? If you need a last minute wedding photographer, you’re out of luck. That’s not my gig.” He delivered those words in a flat monotone as he slumped against the door jamb. I blinked. “No. I…uh…well, if you know somebody, that would be great, but we can’t have you taking pictures if you’re part of the wedding.”
