Logan 02 Three Minutes to Happiness Page 3

  She slipped her shoes on, and grabbed her long winter coat and camera bag. Simon had said that this time she’d actually get to take some photographs, rather than just setting up the shots of the wedding in the Wicklow hills.

  The society wedding was a big one. Too big for one photographer to handle alone. The bride had insisted on photographs of all of the guests, so Simon needed her help.

  She checked the windows, walked back into the sitting room to close her email and shut down her computer.

  No more obsessing over remembered green eyes and their owner. Bloody men.

  *****

  I hate weddings.

  If it wasn’t bad enough that Finn had to bail from the office on a weekday, the phone coverage in the Wicklow hotel was patchy at best, and he was waiting to hear the outcome of an important negotiation. Finn strode to the window, held his phone up and counted bars.

  The alcove was the only spot in the whole damn room where he could pick up a signal. There was a message from his partner, so he immediately called Connor back.

  There was no need for preliminaries. “So, did we get it?” Logan & O’Donoghue had been approached to build an innovative eco-house in Kildare. It was the sort of job that made Finn salivate. The client was well-funded and open-minded enough to embrace their company’s cutting edge ecological solutions. He wanted this job with an urgency that made his heart pound.

  “We got it.”

  Finn grinned.

  “There’s more. The client pitched the project to Wonderful Houses. They want to see a portfolio of our past work before deciding to feature the build in an episode which would be shown next year.” Excitement was evident in Connor’s tone. The television series Wonderful Houses followed the build of interesting houses from the first breaking of ground to completion. Being featured would raise their profile considerably, and bring in many more clients.

  “That’s fantastic.”

  “We need to round up a few photographers. Get them to do some sample spreads of our past work and choose one to go with for the portfolio,” Connor said. “Do you know any?”

  Outside the window the trees stretched bare branches to the sky. The wedding party was standing in a huddle watching the photographer take pictures of the bride and groom. They held hands and gazed into each other’s eyes, as though the rest of the world had ceased to exist. The bride, Estelle was yet another cousin, her mother was sister to his. He didn’t ever think he’d seen so many Logans in one place before. His parents were deep in conversation with other clan members at a table by the door. “I’m looking at one right now.”

  Estelle was a perfectionist who only hired the best. He stowed his phone and walked outside.

  “Okay, can I now have the bride and groom, and the bride’s parents?”

  Estelle frowned. “Oh, Mum’s just gone to—” She waved a bridesmaid over. “Could you fetch her? She’s gone to the bathroom.”

  The natural gap in proceedings was a godsend. Finn introduced himself to the photographer, Simon Wood, and pitched him the project. Simon’s eyes lit with instant interest.

  “We want three photographers to take some sample shots before deciding,” Finn said, plucking a number out of the air. This project was important, they needed to nail it, and even though the photographer must be good to have snagged this job, he was taking no chances.

  “That’s fine.” Simon held out his business card. “I have quite a busy schedule at the moment. When would you like to start?”

  Finn took the card. “As soon as possible. I’ll call you Monday and set it up.”

  They shook hands, then Finn returned inside. He wasn’t driving tonight. The entire hotel was booked out by wedding guests, and as Sorcha was staying, he’d decided it would be politic to stay too. Someone needed to keep an eye on her and make sure that her date drove home at the end of the evening, rather than sneaking into Sorcha’s room. Tomorrow he could have an early breakfast and drive straight to the office.

  Sorcha waved from across the room. He set off across the acres of navy carpet to her table. She’d brought the New Zealander from the speed-dating event as her date. To Finn’s relief, he’d liked Steven immediately.

  “Where are the bride and groom?” Sorcha asked as he pulled up a chair and sat.

  “Still outside having photographs taken in the garden.”

  “They’ll probably be ages yet,” Sorcha said. “You having fun?”

  Finn felt the grimace on his face.

  “Okay, forget I asked.” Sorcha grinned and turned to Steven. “My cousin isn’t really one for these sorts of things,” she confided. “He’s a bit of a grouch.”

  Steven’s eyebrows rose. “Well, weddings are sort of a girl’s thing, aren’t they?” He shot Finn a help-me-out-here glance.

  “Blokes don’t like weddings much,” Finn agreed.

  Sorcha tossed her hair back from her face and pouted. “I don’t see why. I mean, there are gorgeous looking women everywhere, great food, lots of drink…”

  Women at weddings were the most dangerous type. The whole affair was built up to be a powerful attack on the senses. A fairy-tale experience stuffed full of dreams of happy ever after. Finn had heard the collective female sigh as the bride, a vision in white lace, walked down the aisle. The estrogen buzz in the tiny stone chapel almost bowled him over.

  When the bride and groom kissed and the crowd broke out into applause…well, it made him feel distinctly uneasy, to say the least.

  All his distant female relatives seemed to be infected with love fever. They’d asked him if he brought anyone, and when he confessed that he’d come alone, he’d been introduced to a revolving carousel of single women. All of whom had that sort of stunned by love overload expression. His mother had been beyond disappointed that he was flying solo.

  “I saw you chatting to quite a few ladies,” Sorcha leaned forward. “Anyone nice?”

  Finn rolled his eyes. Why on earth should he be considered defective if he didn’t have a girl on his arm?

  “You know I’m not interested.”

  Steven stared at Finn. His jaw tightened. He glanced away, and a frown creased his brow. “Is that woman waving at you, Sorcha?”

  She tracked Steven’s gaze. “Oh, it looks as though Finn’s mum wants a word.” She placed her champagne on the table. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  The moment they were alone, Steven placed a hand on Finn’s arm. “Listen, mate,” he said, lowering his voice. “You should just tell her. Sorcha’s a big girl, and she loves you. She’ll understand.”

  Bloody hell, now Steven was behaving weirdly too. “What are you talking about?”

  “Just tell her you’re gay. She’ll—”

  “I’m not gay,” Finn swallowed the dregs of his champagne. “I’m just busy.”

  Steven pulled back. His hand dropped from Finn’s sleeve. “Ah. Read it wrong then.” A rueful smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “But I don’t see why being busy should get in the way of, you know, dating.”

  This guy was dating his cousin, so Finn didn’t want to suggest there was anything great about open relationships, and chose his words carefully. “I date. I’m just not interested in,” he waved a hand at the room, “settling down.” He breathed deep. “Has Sorcha told you about her parents at all?”

  Steven shook his head.

  “Her parents are love-junkies.”

  Steven pushed back his long hair way from his face with a tanned hand. “After so many years? That’s—”

  “It’s awful.” Finn rubbed a hand across his chest. “They’ve always been encased in a love bubble for two. God knows why they ever had kids. Sorcha…” He fixed Steven with a don’t-mess-with-Sorcha stare. “Well, let’s just say they aren’t very supportive. She needs a man who cares enough to put her first.”

  Steven looked horribly confused. He opened his mouth to speak, obviously thought better of it, and closed it again.

  Finn’s parents were still in love after deca
des together, but at least they showed a keen interest in their children’s lives. Too keen an interest, in Finn’s opinion. Every time he travelled home, his mother was curious about who he was dating, although the pressure was off now his older brother Matthew had announced his engagement to April Leigh.

  They never would approve of Finn’s life choices, so he kept them in the dark. Monogamy wasn’t for everyone.

  “I can’t see ever settling down with one woman,” he said. “A full-time girlfriend,” he couldn’t even mouthe the w word, “would want more than a part-time partner. So much as Sorcha might disapprove of my lady friends, I’m not in the market for a serious relationship.” He accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waitress. “My business means everything to me. It’s my priority—I don’t want to look back at my life on my deathbed, and feel a moment’s regret. I have dreams and I have to work hard to make them come true.”

  Steven fidgeted on the chair. Squeezed his lips together. Then spoke so quietly that Finn had to strain to hear him. “But when you’re on your deathbed, mate, who’s going to be sitting next to you, holding your hand?”

  Chapter Four

  Simon was a real pro. He had taken the intimate portraits of bride and groom, and was now choreographing the arrangement of the close family. Taking a back seat in this part of the proceedings was a relief.

  Val’s own wedding had been four years ago, her divorce two. The past was just that, past. But she was still thankful she didn’t have to take pictures of the bride and groom.

  “The bride wants casual photographs of people chatting. Natural ones.” Simon glanced over, stress evident in his eyes. “And now she’s decided that it would be nice to have portrait shots too.” He pushed a hand through his hair, making it stand up in front. “I have to take shots of the speeches, the cake cutting….”

  “Would you like me to start on that?” Val asked.

  Simon nodded. “I really need you to get in there and fire off a few.”

  “A few hundred.”

  “If you could.” The father of the groom started to walk away. Simon levered up out of his crouch behind the camera. “Sir—I’m not finished.”

  Leaving him to it, Val walked inside.

  The room was crowded with wedding guests. Val’s fingers tightened on the camera hanging from her neck. For a moment she was overwhelmed. There were people everywhere. She stiffened her spine, and smoothed a hand over her hair.

  I can do this.

  With a deep breath, she forced her feet across the deep blue carpet. Then raised the camera, chose a subject, and started to take photographs. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself so she didn’t ask people to pose. Instead, she strolled through the room, taking photos of any interactions that interested her and made a good picture.

  For the most part, people ignored her, which made her job a lot easier. Before she knew it, she had covered half the room.

  A blonde woman caught her eye.

  I know her from somewhere. Val frowned and searched her memory. The stranger in a sparkly minidress was young and gorgeous. She was deep in conversation with a tall, dark man.

  Speed dating. The moment Val recognized where she’d seen the woman before, her companion turned. Val’s heart hammered in her chest. She gulped in a lungful of air. Finn. The woman’s body language was relaxed. Her smile indulgent. They were obviously very comfortable with each other. Val fired off a couple of shots and edged behind a large display of orchids before he spotted her.

  She really shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t feel the sharp pain of rejection that pierced her chest as if a dagger had been plunged there. He’d found a classically beautiful babe he’d obviously ticked on his list, and then called after the event.

  The fact that he’d urged Val to tick yes to him, burned. The banter had been a line, one guaranteed to boost his obviously huge ego. No doubt he’d told all the women there he wanted to see them again to ensure he had a whole raft of positive emails hitting his in-box.

  Val chewed her fingernail. Taking photographs of him would be beyond embarrassing. She’d ticked yes, and he knew it. She glanced around the flower display. The couple was deep in conversation again, and the woman was leaning close, displaying her attractive cleavage.

  In two quick steps, Val strode away from the captivating tableau they made. Forget it. She pulled the camera to her eye, and took a shot of three girls swaying to the music in the room instead. It wasn’t as if she’d gone to the speed dating event looking for love anyway. The last thing she’d do is let the vision of bloody Finn having fun throw her. She had a job to do. When she circled the room again asking people to pose, she’d have the advantage. She’d seen him. She knew. And if anyone would be mortified, it wouldn’t be her.

  *****

  Finn’s mind travelled back to Steven’s quietly spoken question. Who will be sitting at your bedside when you’re facing the end of your life? The moment Steven had asked it, a vivid picture had flashed into his mind of a woman with Cleopatra hair. A woman he’d thought long and hard about calling every day since the email hit his in-box with her contact details.

  Irritation spiked that he couldn’t seem to forget her.

  He loved women. The moments he’d spent across the table from Val had triggered an instant attraction that hadn’t dissipated in the weeks since. But she’d doubtless come to the speed dating event looking for love, and calling her when his intentions were definitely not so honorable would be dishonest. He’d thrown out the idea of contacting her to confess he wasn’t in the market for a love affair as being a horrible thing to do, imagining himself in her position.

  If only they’d met under different circumstances. One where there were no agendas, no preconceived notions about what they wanted in life. Then, things could have developed naturally, and if she were willing, they could have a no-strings fling.

  The memory of her azure eyes was there as he closed his eyes.

  “Excuse me,” said a soft voice, and Finn’s eyes opened.

  Val stood before him clutching a camera.

  His heart pounded. He blinked as he was thrust right back into the here and now. Had his thoughts conjured her up?

  “Can I take your picture?”

  She was real. Dressed in a long blue dress that wrapped around her slender waist, and emphasized her curves.

  Finn’s gaze flickered down, to the camera she was clutching with both hands.

  “Val.” Her name dropped from his lips. His mind felt full of cotton wool, unable to compute what on earth she was doing here. Eventually it coughed up the answer. She must be Simon’s assistant.

  She nodded, her mouth stretched in a thin line. Her back straightened, and the way she held her body, so tight and stiff, reinforced the expression written on her face. She didn’t want to be here, wasn’t in any way friendly or flirtatious.

  Shit.

  “What are you…”

  “What am I doing here?” she asked. “Well, I’m working, Finn. I’m taking photographs of the wedding guests. So if you could raise your glass and smile at the camera, we can get this over with.” Her gaze pinned his, and the knuckles gripping the camera were white.

  “I should have called you.” Finn groaned inwardly the moment the words left his mouth. If he was going to call, he would have by now. But he couldn’t just say nothing. He’d hoped if he ever bumped into her again enough time would have elapsed that they could pretend nothing had happened. And that the immediate surge of attraction would be absent. No chance of that.

  “Let’s not go there, okay?” She shifted from foot to foot.

  She was smaller than he’d remembered, barely up to his shoulder, but of course, this was the first time they’d stood next to each other.

  “I just…”

  Val held a hand out, palm first. “Stop. We really don’t have to go into the whole ‘I was going to call you’ thing. It isn’t true. You know it, and I know it. I’m a big girl. I really haven’t been sitting around waiti
ng for your call—it’s over with as far as I’m concerned.” Her hand dropped. “It will be a lot less awkward if we just forget the whole thing happened, and you pose for a photograph.”

  The moment he posed, she’d walk away. It would be over.

  Finn grasped her arm and pulled into the alcove, away from the other partygoers. “Listen.”

  Val opened her mouth to speak, and he put a finger against her soft lips to still her words. “I didn’t call you because I didn’t want to give you the wrong idea. I was at the speed dating event under false pretenses.”

  Val’s eyes glittered. “Married?” An eyebrow rose.

  “No.”

  “Engaged then. Or maybe writing an article about speed dating?” She stepped back. “Really, Finn, you don’t need to make up a story—I’m not interested.”

  “You were interested enough to tick yes to me.” He moved closer.

  Her breathing changed, and her tongue swiped across her top lip in a nervous gesture.

  “As were you,” she pointed out with admirable calm. “But you didn’t contact me. And I didn’t contact you either. We both had second thoughts.”

  He hadn’t.

  “I wanted to,” Finn leaned close. breathing in her scent. “I’ve thought about calling you.” He touched her bare arm, and felt her shiver. “I’m very attracted to you.”

  Val brushed his hand away. She rolled her eyes. “Oh come on. Drop the seducer act. One girl at a time.”

  She glanced over to Sorcha at the table. “I recognized her from the speed dating. And frankly, a man who brings one woman to a wedding and comes on to another is not the type of man any woman would be interested in.”

  Her gaze burned.

  Sorcha? She thinks… “That’s my cousin, Sorcha. She dragged me along to the speed dating, and she’s here with the man she met at the event, Steven.”

  Val glanced back to the table where Steven had now arrived clutching a couple of glasses. He kissed Sorcha quickly.

  “Ah.” Val’s eyes met his.

  “The only woman I wanted to know better at that event was you.” Finn hoped she could hear the sincerity in his tone. He ran a hand down her upper arm again, feeling his heart jump in response to the electrical charge that flashed through him at the touch of her skin.