Love, Utley (Love Letters #1)

“Good?” he asks.

I take another sip. “It’s alright.”

It’s divine.

Maddox chuckles, but thankfully, someone steps up in line behind us and says his name.

Using the chance, I slip away.

Two and a half glasses of wine later, I know I need to stop.

I need to stop because it’s getting harder to stay steady in these shoes, and it’s getting harder to draw my eyes away from Maddox.

Even now, as I stand here with Roberts, my colleague in accounting who goes by his last name, and his wife, whom I’ve just met, I can’t stop looking over at the photo booth.

Maddox is in there, taking photos with what has to be half of the employees— in groups and individually. And no one should look that good standing inside a plastic box.

Roberts turns his head to see where I’m looking. “Have you taken a picture yet?”

I shake my head. “No, it’s not—” really my thing is what I want to say, but Roberts cuts me off excitedly.

“Oh look, they’re done!” He waves for me to join him with the hand not holding his beer. “Come on.”

I don’t want to, but I go along with him because he’s too nice of a guy to disappoint. Plus, if I’m lucky, maybe Maddox will walk away before we get there.

“Hey, Boss Man!” Roberts calls out when Maddox steps out of the booth thing with the rest of the group. “Can we grab a photo too?”

Heat rushes across my already rosy cheeks.

Maddox smiles. “Anything for the people in charge of the money.”

Roberts laughs while I slow my steps. “You two go ahead. I’m going to set my glass down.”

I make a move to veer off, hoping to slip away, but Mrs. Roberts is right behind me, apparently not wanting to miss the action.

“I’ll take your glass, dear.”

“Oh, um, okay.” I reluctantly hand it to her. So much for an escape.

Maddox holds his arm out for us to enter.

I go first, hoping to put Roberts between me and Maddox.

“Go between us,” Roberts tells Maddox, and suddenly, I’m not so sure I like him.

The three of us standing shoulder to shoulder take up the width of the clear front panel, and I do my best to stand in a way that won’t look completely stupid.

The photographer is set up a dozen steps in front of the box, and she holds up her hand, signaling us to smile, then takes a photo.

“Let’s do the Mad Dog pose!” my new enemy suggests.

I lean forward to look around Maddox’s big frame. “Us?”

Roberts grins as he nods. “You know, the way he always poses for photos.” He crosses his arms and puffs out his chest.

“Always appreciate a fan,” Maddox says as he takes the same pose.

I let out a sigh. Then, with no good reason not to, I straighten, cross my arms, and glare at the camera.