it?”
“Perfect. Is it what you always pictured?”
Corrie turned and lifted her arms while Melia helped with the buttons up the back. “Yes.”
Still no smile.
“Look over your shoulder,” Shannon instructed. “Smile.”
She did, but it didn’t last. “I think I need to sit down.” She lifted a hand to her head to fan herself. The color in her face started to drain.
Shannon grabbed a chair and pushed it close. “It might be the corset.”
Corrie slid down, her breathing jumping up a few notches.
“Melia, turn the air on high.” Someone handed Corrie a glass of water.
The door to the room opened and Mrs. Harkin stepped in. She frowned when she saw her daughter sitting down and everyone huddled around her. “What’s going on?”
“I think she’s just overheated,” Shannon said.
The door opened wider and Mr. Harkin joined them. “You okay, honey?”
“I’m nervous. Everyone is staring at me.”
Her observation had her girlfriends backing up a step.
“Tell you what. I’ll take the girls outside, get a few pictures of them. We can wait to get shots with you after the ceremony. I’m sure you’ll settle once it’s all done.”
Corrie nodded a few times.
Shannon exited the room and dragged the girls to the spot she’d scoped out earlier. When she returned, Corrie was feeling better but wanted to wait for the very last second to join the humidity outside.
With her work there done, Shannon left the girls in search of the men.
Unlike the women, the men were propped up on a deck, feet on the railing, wearing shorts and T-shirts.
Shannon saw Justin first and shook her head. “You do know there’s a wedding in an hour, right?”
“If it isn’t the sassy photographer.”
She had to own the title. “That’s me. I’m bossy, too.”
Victor stuck his head out the sliding glass door. He, at least, was dressed. Gray dress pants and a button up shirt. “Looks like someone knows there’s a timeline to this thing,” Shannon quipped.
“In an hour,” Victor said.
“Yeah, I heard. I need you guys dressed in fifteen. I have what I need from the women, and now it’s your turn.” She didn’t have any trouble asserting herself when it came to doing her job. In her experience, on their own, men waited until the last second to get ready, or for someone like her to bark an order.
Justin pushed off the chair he was sitting in. “You heard the lady. Let’s get moving.”
Ten minutes later, the men filed out of the room. Hair combed back, dress pants, white shirts. Light jackets. Shannon took the liberty of snapping a few pictures of them standing and joking around with each other. She caught Justin sucking on his finger, a smirk on his face.
Cute.
Using the ocean and a lone palm tree as her backdrop, Shannon posed the men in a series of shots that were both serious and whimsical. Much like Corrie’s, Victor’s smile for her camera felt forced. She couldn’t help but think it was her. It wasn’t like she’d tried hard to make a good impression on the man or put him at ease with her instructions.
Then again, she had a fifty-dollar bet with the brother on how long the marriage would last. Maybe he was having second thoughts.
“Okay, Victor. Let’s get a few shots with your brother.”
She posed them next to a crooked palm tree that stretched horizontally nearly as much as it did vertically. The second she had them in the right frame, Victor turned to her and smiled.
She waved him off. “No, no . . . I want you to talk to each other.”
Victor looked confused.
“Natural. I want to capture something real between the two of you.”
Justin looked at his brother and laughed softly.
“Act normal?”
Shannon watched them from behind the lens.
“What should we talk about?” Victor asked.
“About how I’m the better-looking brother?” Justin teased.
She captured an eye roll.
“You wish.”
She changed her angle, fired off a few more shots.
“What do you think, Shannon? Team Justin or Team Victor?”
Laughing, she knelt. Victor won, hands down . . . but she wasn’t about to give him the point. “Oh, I don’t know. We have to pull the stick out of Victor’s butt before I can judge.”
There it was. Shouts of laughter that had both men with genuine smiles filled with good humor.
“Oh, man, Vic . . . she has your number.”
Victor turned his smile on her, a smirk reaching his eyes.
“Got it,” she said, lowering her camera. “Okay, let’s go next door and get a few more with your parents before the ceremony.”
Scott and Renee Brooks were