Feels Like Love by Jenna Hartley

Chapter Two

When I arrived at Alpaca Acres, Harper was leaning against her car, coffee in hand. She glanced up and waved as I pulled into a parking spot. The sun was still low in the sky, warming up the earth. But soon, it would be the perfect lighting for our bridal shoot.

“Hey,” I said, shutting the door and going around to the trunk. “You’re early.”

“I just love it here.” She grinned. “Don’t you?”

I nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. Alpaca Acres was a bed-and-breakfast, alpaca farm, and so much more. It was magical—acres upon acres of wild flowers in a rainbow of colors. A beautiful historic home turned bed-and-breakfast, working farm, and restaurant with an emphasis on local ingredients. And the owner was the coolest lady—Susan. She’d had so many amazing experiences.

“Sasha’s getting ready. I came early to take some pictures of Daisy, Willa, and Larry.”

I laughed. Of course—the alpacas. They were like minor celebrities in town, second only to the reclusive romance author, Meghan Hart.

“So…” Harper butted my shoulder with hers while we waited for our client. “How’d it go last night?”

Harper knew all about my dating adventures, not that there were many. The past few years, I’d been too busy with my photography business and raising my son while navigating some health issues to even consider attempting to date. But now that River was at school full time, I’d finally ventured back into the dating pool with some excitement…but mostly trepidation.

“Great!” I said in a chipper tone, complete with a cheesy smile.

“Yay! That’s awesome.”

“Yeah,” I scoffed. “If by great, I mean that I was stood up by my date. Lucas canceled at the last minute without even attempting to explain or reschedule. I mean, he did it in a text message.”

“Oh no!” Her face fell. “That’s the worst. What a jerk.”

I just didn’t get it. He was the one who’d asked me out. He’d initiated it, and then…poof. He’d bailed. I didn’t understand what had spooked him. What had made him change his mind, but it felt like a bigger rejection than it should.

Why was I even surprised? The only men I could count on were my dad, my brother, and my son. And, well, Bennett.

“I don’t even know why I try,” I said. “I have the worst luck when it comes to men.”

“I used to be that way too,” she said with a sympathetic smile.

“And then you met Enzo.” I sighed, thinking of Harper’s swoon-worthy husband, Lorenzo Mancini. Just his name was sexy. “If only I could meet a hot Italian and have him fall madly in love with me. I mean, is there an app for that?” I teased.

She pulled me into her side as we walked toward the main building. “He’s out there. There is a guy for you. I know sometimes it’s hard to believe, but have faith.”

“Thanks, Harper,” I said, feeling marginally better. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to wait until I was nearly forty to find him like Harper had.

Despite our age difference, Harper and I had become really close friends the past few years. She’d moved back to the Alondra Valley not long after her son, Aiden, was born, but we’d only really connected when the boys started school. She’d been doing freelance gigs, and I was looking for more help, so it seemed only natural to bring her on.

We both loved photography. Our kids were nearly the same age, though she hadn’t become a mom until her late thirties. And she was originally from Fall River—a neighboring town in the Alondra Valley—so she understood small-town life. Funnily enough, she’d babysat my brother for a while before I was born.

I had other friends, but none I saw as regularly. Most of my friends from childhood had moved away or drifted away during my health issues. Harper had become a close confidante, almost a surrogate big sister.

“I just want—” I huffed. “I want to have one date where I don’t get stood up or it doesn’t end in disaster or the guy doesn’t spend the entire evening staring at my chest. Is that really so much to ask?”

“You wouldn’t think so, but you’re also working with a limited pool of candidates.”

“Meaning…”

“Have you ever considered using a dating app?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I feel…weird about it.”

“Why? People meet online all the time and form friendships or fall in love. In fact, that’s how my best friend’s bonus daughter met her husband.”

“Really?”

“Well, it wasn’t a dating app. But Connor and Olivia were matched as reading buddies for an online program through her old publishing house. They started as pen pals then talked on the phone before they finally met in person.”

It all sounded so simple. So romantic. Why couldn’t I have that?

“And they got married?” I asked.

“Oh yeah. They are very happily married with four kids.”

“Four?” I was positive my eyes were bugging out of my head like some silly cartoon character on the shows River liked to watch. I wanted more kids, but…four? After what I’d been through, I wasn’t even sure my body was capable of having more.

“I know, right?” Harper laughed. “I can’t even imagine.”

We both laughed and shook our heads, walking farther down the path as we scoped out potential locations for the shoot. We had a few favorites, but they rotated depending on the lighting and time of day.

“So, what did you end up doing?” she asked as we pulled out our cameras and began setting up. All we needed now was the bride.

“I had dinner with Bennett. He happened to be at Larkspur and asked to join me.”

“Interesting.” She gave me a side-eye. What was that about? It wasn’t like I’d ever told her about my crush on him. “Sounds like you went on a date after all. Just not with the guy you were expecting to.”

I rolled my eyes. “Harper, he’s my brother’s best friend. To him, I’m like an annoying little sister. I can assure you—it wasn’t a date.”

Though it had certainly felt like a date. Bennett had been attentive and a good listener, though that was nothing new. But he’d paid for my meal. We’d sat and talked for a long time, enjoying our ice cream. He’d insisted on walking me to my car. He’d almost… My stomach fluttered just thinking of the way he’d leaned in. His eyes intent on my lips.

“Hey!” Sasha called, her feet crunching on the gravel.

“Hey, Sasha!” Harper waved, and I smiled.

After that, I switched into work mode. Gone were the doubts and insecurities, and I was back in control. Behind the camera, I was confident, happy, free. If only I could be like that with the guys I met.

It wasn’t as if they were entirely to blame. I knew that.

The hard part was that when I finally found a guy I was actually interested in, I freaked out. It was like some weird version of self-sabotage where I’d say the dumbest stuff or clam up and turn it into the most awkward experience ever. So, was it any wonder I wasn’t in a relationship?

I either wasn’t interested, or if I was, I screwed it all up.

“That looks great,” Harper said to Sasha. We alternated taking shots, both of us working different angles, trading out various lenses.

Sasha smiled and brushed her veil away from her face. She looked absolutely stunning in a custom Evelyn Owen dress. Evelyn was a designer who was making quite the name for herself in Los Angeles. And I could see why, looking at the dress. It flowed over Sasha’s body before fishtailing out into a mermaid skirt. And all the tiny applique flowers sparkled in the sunlight, making her look like a sexy princess.

If I ever got married—unlikely as it seemed—I’d want a dress that made me feel as confident as Sasha looked. I photographed a lot of brides in my line of work, and I always wondered if they were as happy as they seemed. If they’d found their soul mate. True love.

I wanted to believe it was possible. But the older I got, the more convinced I became that fairy tales only existed in River’s bedtime stories.

“Great,” I finally said when Harper lowered her camera. We were coming up on the end of our session. “We’re almost done. Are there any other spots or poses you wanted to try?”

Sasha had come in with very clear ideas of the look she wanted. She’d even shared a Pinterest board of inspiration. I’d studied it and made notes on my phone as to all the shots we’d need to take. It seemed like we’d covered it all, but I wanted to make sure she agreed. My clients were everything.

They’d helped me build my business—putting their trust in a new photographer. And they’d helped me grow, by sharing their experiences on social media and with friends and family. Most of my business came through word of mouth, and I no longer worried about making my mortgage payment or putting food on the table for my son—not that my family would ever let us starve, but it was something I needed to do for myself. To provide for my son.

I could remember the day I’d hired Harper on as a second photographer. It had been both scary and exhilarating. Knowing we’d need to continue bringing in enough business to cover her salary, but also realizing that my business had grown enough to justify it. But overriding it all was an overwhelming sense of relief. I was no longer solely responsible for documenting my clients’ memories; I could rely on someone else.

“You’ve been very thorough,” Sasha said to me. “Which is exactly why I hired you. I think we’re good.”

“Great!” Harper smiled, and I nodded.

“We should have the proofs for you in the next week or so. I’ll email when they’re ready, and then we can schedule an appointment.”

“Perfect,” Sasha said as Harper and I started packing up. “And when can we do the boudoir shoot?” she asked Harper as we headed back to the main building so she could change.

I’d attempted a boudoir session once a few years ago and never since. The past few months, we’d been getting more requests, and Harper had volunteered to do them. She really had a knack for them, and I was grateful we could offer the service without my having to be the photographer.

“I had a spot open up next week, if that works.”

“For sure.” Sasha squealed. “God, I’m so excited. I think I’m even more excited about that than I was about today.”

“Me too!” Harper squeezed Sasha’s arm.

I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel the same enthusiasm for a boudoir shoot. It didn’t matter which side of the camera I was on, I always felt uncomfortable. Exposed.

And if I were the one being photographed, I couldn’t imagine ever showing the images to anyone else. I shivered. Allowing them to pore over all your imperfections. To memorialize your body for the world to see for the rest of time. Hell to the no.

“Thank you so much, ladies. I would hug you, but—” She glanced down at her dress.

“No.” I laughed. “Of course. Have to protect the dress.”

As she walked off, holding up her train so it wouldn’t get dirty, Harper turned to me. “Want to join us for the boudoir shoot?”

I rolled my eyes. “What do you think?”

“I think you should try it—just once. Like I think you should consider giving a dating app a shot. One of our clients was talking about one recently—LoveBirds, I think. It’s just for the Alondra Valley and surrounding region.”

“I have tried a boudoir shoot, and you weren’t there to see how awful it was.”

“Yeah, but—” she rolled her eyes “—it was Bonnie.” After a beat, she said, “Fine, I see you still aren’t convinced. But what about the app?”

“I might check it out.”

“Good. And if you want me to take some pictures of you for your profile, let me know.”

“Whoa. Whoa.” I held up my hands. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

She laughed and headed for her car, and I did the same. As I drove back to the studio, I thought about the dating app. If nothing else, maybe it would be a good way to meet some people. Put myself out there and build my confidence.

The more I thought about it, the more excited I grew. Maybe Harper was right. Maybe this was exactly what I needed. By the time I met Harper back at Little Bird Studios, I was ready.

“Okay.” I strode through the studio with newfound confidence. “Let’s do this! I want to try LoveBirds.”

Harper slowly lifted her head, a smile playing at her lips. “Awesome. I already have the site pulled up.”

“What?” I cocked my hip to the side. “You were so sure I’d give in?”

“I know you,” Harper said. “And I know what it’s like to be in your shoes. So, yeah, I was pretty sure you’d decide to try my advice. I mean, I do know what I’m talking about.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, her wedding ring sparkling in the sunlight. We both laughed.

I sat down in my chair and fired up my computer. I loved our studio. It was so light and open, and other than being at home with River, it was my happy place.

She walked around to my side and took a seat next to me. “Before we start, I have a confession.”

“What’s that?” I asked as I created an account on LoveBirds.

“I sort of heard about the site from Pops.” She squeezed her eyes shut as if bracing for my reaction.

“Really? Why was your dad looking at a dating website?” He’d been happily married for decades. Everyone loved Doc Allen and his wife, Linda.

“No.” She laughed. “He read about it on The Vine.”

“Wow.” I shook my head. “I think that might be even more disturbing.” I was trying to imagine Harper’s gregarious father reading the region’s popular gossip blog. Trying and failing.

“I know. He and Jo are obsessed with it.”

I opened a new browser and started typing. I still couldn’t believe Harper’s dad read The Vine. Her sister-in-law, Jo? Sure. But Doc Allen?

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I want to know what The Vine has to say about LoveBirds.”

I clicked the page, and it opened to the gossip blog. I’d only visited it a few times, though I tried to avoid it. A large banner with an image of a grapevine and the blog site name filled most of the screen. I scrolled down, trying to ignore the latest posts as I navigated toward a search bar.

I typed in the name of the dating app and then clicked on the result. It was dated a few months back.

Move over Match.com, Alondra Valley’s got a new dating app. LoveBirds seeks to match singles who are looking to mingle. Booty-callers beware, this app is for serious love birds only. If you’re looking for true love, this is the app for you.

I groaned. “This sounds so cheesy.”

“It’s just the way she writes the blog.”

“No.” I shook my head and leaned back in my chair. “I meant the dating app sounds cheesy.”

“Keep scrolling. Let’s see what else it says.”

“Fine.” I did as Harper asked.

The rest was mostly a review about the app and how user-friendly it was. As well as touting the amazing selection of candidates. It wasn’t labeled as a sponsored post, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was, considering how much she was gushing about the app.

Finally, she ended the post with:

The app is currently in beta testing and free to use. It’s open to all genders and orientations. One of my favorite things about it is the inclusivity and options it offers potential matches.

Will I see you on there, AVers?

<3 V

I frowned. “‘Avers’?What the heck are those?”

“Alondra Valley—ers.” Harper laughed. “It’s how she signs off all her blog posts.”

I closed the window. “Wow. Okay.”

“Right.” Harper clapped her hands together. “Okay, so…let’s start with the easy stuff,” she said. “Name, age, occupation, location.”

“Okay.” I took a breath as the profile screen came up. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. “That’s easy enough.” I filled in the information, hoping the rest would be as simple.

“Now, the bio can be a little tricky,” she said.

I gulped…write a bio about myself? Gag. I was already dreading it. Plus, there was an extended questionnaire to try to find the most relevant matches. I was surprised the service was free, considering how thorough it seemed. Though it would only be free during beta testing.

I lifted a shoulder. Whatever. I’d give myself a few months to use the app. If I met someone, great. If nothing came of it, then I’d delete my account.

The door opened, literally saving me by the little bell that rang any time someone entered the studio. A woman walked inside, hand on her belly. She had a cute little baby bump.

“Hi.” I jumped up from my chair, eager for any excuse to stop working on my bio. “Can I help you?”

“I was passing by and saw your sign. I’m interested in maternity shots.”

“Well, you’re in the right place.” I held out my hand with a smile. “I’m Wren.” We shook hands, and then I gestured toward Harper. “And this is Harper.”

I offered her a drink, and then we got down to business. My dating profile could wait. If Mr. Right was even out there, I wasn’t sure I’d meet him on an app like LoveBirds. Though, nothing else I’d tried had worked. At this point, what did I have to lose?