Picture This

Chapter 1 Delylah

Delylah

Iwas surrounded by wannabe cowboys.

The lobby at the Haven River Ranch lodge was crowded with Emily and Luca’s friends from New York. Real estate agents, hedge fund analysts, investment bankers, and trust fund babies. They were all playing Western dress-up for a long weekend in Montana.

When I’d arrived at the airport this morning for our charter flight, each and every one of these men had preened in their polished square-toed boots and Wrangler jeans.

If I had to guess, they’d all ordered Stetsons from the same hat shop in the city.

Hopefully they’d gotten a group discount—not that any of them needed a price break.

They all toted designer duffel bags and suitcases, while a wheel on my Samsonite was broken and I couldn’t remember the last time the handle had extended fully. The backpack I’d brought along had a hole in the bottom that I’d covered with duct tape.

New luggage wasn’t in my budget. Neither were private flights. But Luca, my best friend’s fiancé, was loaded. When he’d offered me a seat on the jet he’d arranged for his buddies, I’d jumped at the chance to save on airfare.

Until my photo exhibition in November, I was pinching pennies.

My job as a forensic photographer paid enough to keep me comfortable, but after four years of photographing crime scenes and dead bodies, it was time for a change. I wanted to take pictures of pretty places and people who still had a pulse.

With any luck, after the gallery’s show, I’d sell enough art to move home to Montana with more than a “life experience” to boast about for the eight years I’d spent in New York. And then, maybe I could find a real cowboy.

A man who didn’t raise an eyebrow at my old suitcase or mind a little dust on his boots. A man who’d give me his chocolate chip cookie when the flight attendant announced she was one short. A man who wouldn’t cut in front of me for the hotel’s check-in line.

Luca was a great guy. His single friends? Not so much.

Part of me felt bad for Emily that she was marrying into this crowd, but they didn’t annoy her the way they irritated me. They didn’t snub her for being poor.

An ear-piercing squeal filled the lobby. A squeal that I’d known since I was five.

Emily came racing down the lodge’s staircase, her arms spread wide, her own boots loud on the hardwood floor as she rushed across the lobby and crashed into me. “You’re here.”

“Hi.” I smiled, hugging her tight. “Happy wedding weekend.”

“Finally. I feel like I’ve been waiting forever for this weekend to get here.” She squealed again and let me go, her smile blinding.

Her brown hair was six inches longer than when she’d left the city earlier this week, her extensions hitting her waist. Her sleeveless denim dress was one of many outfits she’d modeled for me when I’d gone to her and Luca’s Manhattan penthouse to help her pack.

Emily and I had been best friends since kindergarten. Her parents had bought the house next door to mine when they moved to my small hometown, and she’d become the closest thing I had to a sister.

When I’d decided to study photography in New York after high school, she’d picked a college in the city so we could move across the country together. I was still living in the tiny, cramped apartment we’d shared for years, using her old room as my studio.

For now.

Emily didn’t know that I was leaving the city yet. The only people I’d told were my parents, and I’d sworn them to secrecy. Once the wedding was over, I’d break the news to her, but at the moment, I was simply trying not to add more stress.

She was keyed up enough for this weekend.

Luca’s parents hadn’t wanted a Montana wedding. They were part of the affluent New York culture and wanted an opulent city gala. But Emily and I had both dreamed of weddings at the Haven River Ranch.

Nestled at the base of the Crazy Mountains, forty-five minutes from our hometown of Big Timber, this resort was one of the most beautiful places in the world.

There was a reason so many people flocked to this resort. It was magic. The waiting list for weddings was five years out, but Emily’s mom was cousins with the owners—the Haven brothers—and they’d been able to work out a spot for the wedding in June.

So here we were. In just two days, Emily and Luca would say “I do” in a green meadow with a backdrop of evergreen forests and towering indigo peaks.

“We have a slight change in the agenda,” she said. “I had the best idea last night.”

“Oh.” No.

Lately, her best ideas meant dragging me along to some pretentious event under the guise of introducing me as a budding young artist to New York’s most affluent families, when really, it was just an excuse for her to play matchmaker.

Emily was determined to set me up with one of Luca’s rich friends.

Maybe the reason the men in the lobby had barely spoken to me on the flight was because I’d turned each and every one of them down for a date.

“We’re going glamping.” Emily clapped. “The resort has this beautiful campsite in the mountains. We’ll drive up in the morning.

Go hiking. Spend a day with nature. Have a campfire.

Sleep beneath the stars. Then come back and get ready for the wedding on Saturday morning. Doesn’t that sound amazing?”

“Actually, yes.” I gave her a sideways glance. “Are you sure you want to sleep in a tent and sleeping bag the night before your wedding? Camping is my kind of activity, not yours.”

“This is glamping. There are beds. And I need to disconnect. It will be good for me to spend a night away from here, where I can’t obsess over the decorations or flowers.”

She’d still obsess. This wedding had consumed her for nearly a year.

“What about the rehearsal dinner?” I asked as the line to the reception desk shifted forward, Emily and I shuffling along with it.

“We’re doing it tonight instead. And we have a busy afternoon before the dinner starts.

” Emily pulled her phone from her dress’s pocket, checking the time.

“I’ve got my final dress fitting in an hour.

I’m meeting with the wedding planner at four to do a final walk-through of the reception venue.

Just wait until you see the barn. It’s the perfect blend of refined and rustic. ”

The barn was a newer addition to the resort and a building I hadn’t been inside yet.

According to my parents, the Haven family had made a lot of changes to this place since I’d left.

They’d tailored it toward a wealthy clientele who wanted a Montana escape while still maintaining a fully functioning cattle ranch.

But even with the remodeling, the bones of the resort I’d known as a kid remained. Everything was just a bit fancier now. The wooden walls, oak floors, and antler chandelier gave this space an authentic style that melded flawlessly with the modern lighting, woven rugs, and sleek leather furniture.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Emily looped her arm with mine, resting her head on my shoulder.

“Luca’s parents arrived last night. They’re staying in one of the chalets.

As of this morning, they were both fairly enamored with this ranch.

But I feel like I’m holding my breath. I just want everything to be perfect. ”

“It will be. Whatever you need, I’m here. I’ll drop my bags in my room, and then this maid of honor is at your disposal all weekend.”

If that meant glamping, then I would glamp.

As the line moved again, I mentally sorted through my suitcase and the clothes I’d brought along that could work for camping.

My hiking boots were in New York, where they’d been collecting dust in my apartment for the past eight years, but thankfully, I’d opted for tennis shoes instead of heels for today’s flight.

Shoes that weren’t as white as they used to be and had earned a side-eye from two of Luca’s snobby friends earlier.

“Who’s all going camping?” I asked, partly curious and partly dreading her answer would include all the guys still in line.

“A group of us. You. Me and Luca.” Before she could finish the roster, something over my shoulder caught her attention, making her smile.

I turned to follow her gaze, and time slowed to a crawl.

Noah.

He jogged down the stairs, hazel eyes scanning the lobby. When he spotted Emily, he flashed her a crooked smile. His gaze locked with mine for only a moment, but it was long enough for my heart to stop and my cheeks to flame.

Noah Chappel.

My best friend’s older brother.

My childhood crush.

Wow. It had been a few years since I’d seen him last, and somehow, he’d only gotten more handsome.

His wavy hair was longer now, the chocolate strands combed away from his face, probably with his fingers.

It curled slightly at his ears and the nape of his neck.

His strong jaw was dusted with dark stubble.

His simple gray T-shirt stretched across his broad chest and flat stomach.

The sleeves strained against his biceps.

His faded jeans molded to his bulky thighs and draped down long legs to scuffed boots.

The lobby was crowded with good-looking men, but Noah put them all to shame.

The last time I’d seen him was at Christmas a few years ago. I’d flown home for the holidays, and Noah had been at his parents’ annual Christmas Eve party. He’d brought a girlfriend, but according to Emily, they’d broken up not long after New Year’s.

Did he bring a date to this wedding? Or was he single? As a general rule, I didn’t ask Emily about Noah. I’d spent my entire life faking indifference when it came to her brother. But whenever she mentioned his name, I clung to her every word.

It was only a crush. That’s all it had ever been. Noah was the boy of my teenage dreams, and someday, I’d meet the man who’d outshine the glimmer of his image. I just hadn’t met that guy yet. Even Peter, and we’d dated for a year.

Noah Chappel’s pedestal was sky high.

He reached the bottom stair and crossed the lobby for the doors. Before he pushed outside, I let myself check out his ass.

Still as perfect as I remembered. Damn.

Was he coming camping with us? I really hoped so.

“Delylah.” Emily snapped her fingers in my face. “Why is your face red? Were you checking out Noah?”

“What? No.” I straightened my bangs, hoping my hand would hide the pink in my cheeks. “It’s hot and stuffy in here. And I wasn’t checking out Noah. I just haven’t seen him in a while.”

Years of practice meant the lies flowed from my lips like running water. I’d spent my life denying this crush to Emily.

“Good. Because that would be weird.” She snorted. “Can you imagine? You and Noah?”

Oh, I’d imagined.

I’d doodled his name with mine in hearts when I was younger. I’d written my first name with his last in every diary. Delylah Chappel. I’d pictured my wedding to her brother more times than I could count on all my fingers and toes.

I’d definitely imagined, and not once had I thought it would be weird.

But Emily was as protective of Noah as he was of her. Besides, he’d only ever seen me as Emily’s best friend and constant companion. I was just the girl next door.

And while Noah would always have a special place in my heart, the truth was, that childhood crush of mine had faded with time and distance and boyfriends and life. Soon, this wedding would be over, and I’d go home to New York. It could be another three or thirty years before I saw him again.

But I could use the nostalgia of a crush this weekend.

After the breakup with Peter, I needed a reminder that good men still existed. Not a single guy I’d met in the past four months had made me feel anything but annoyed. Emily’s matchmaking attempts had been entirely futile.

Even if I only admired Noah from afar, it was nice to know that I wasn’t dead inside. That a hot guy could still make my pulse race.

“Oh, there’s Luca.” Emily raised her arm, waving down her fiancé as he walked out of the dining room off the lobby. “Babe.”

Luca gave her a smile and winked before he was mobbed by his friends, the men all abandoning their places in line to shake his hand and clap him on the shoulder.

With the path clear, I snatched up my suitcase, took Emily’s hand, and pulled her with me to the front desk.

“Welcome to Haven River Ranch,” the receptionist said. “Name?”

“Delylah Banks.” I fished out my driver’s license from my wallet, then slid it across the desk as she checked me in.

By the time she handed me my room key, the frenzy had died down, and Luca’s friends were all reshuffling into line.

“Hi, Delylah.” Luca came over for a hug. “Glad you made it.”

“Me too. Thanks again for the flight.”

“Anytime.” He put his arm around Emily and bent to kiss her cheek.

I picked up my suitcase, ready to dart upstairs to room 203 and scream into a pillow, when another man walked into the lobby. My grip faltered, and my Samsonite clattered as it fell to the floor, probably breaking the other wheel.

“Emily,” I hissed. “You didn’t invite Jake.”

“What?” She feigned innocence. “He’s our friend.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’ve only known him for a couple of months.”

“That doesn’t make him any less of a friend.”

I gave her a flat look.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a wedding. The more the merrier. He’s nice.”

Jake Hearst was a pig. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep quiet.

Emily had been trying to set us up for weeks, and every time I told her no, it only seemed to encourage her.

Whatever. All I had to do was survive this wedding weekend. Then after my show, I’d leave New York, and with any luck, I’d never see Peter or Jake or any of these other men again.

“Please.” She took my hand, clasping it with both of hers. “Give him one more chance. And if you still don’t like him, I can at least say I tried. But how romantic would it be if you fell in love this weekend? At my wedding.”

“So romantic,” I deadpanned as Jake came to stand at my side.

I angled my body away from him, hoping he’d get the hint.

He didn’t.

Jake leaned in for a kiss on my cheek. “Hey, Del.”

I backed away, nearly tripping over the suitcase at my feet.

“Delylah,” I corrected, grabbing his hand for a shake. The scent of his cologne was overpowering and stung my nose. “I don’t like the nickname Del. Remember?”

“That’s right. Sorry.”

No, he wasn’t. That was the third time I’d had to remind him not to call me Del.

I liked one and only one nickname. The nickname Noah had given me when I was ten. Everyone else called me Delylah.

Jake brushed an invisible piece of lint from his white shirt. He was dressed like Luca’s other friends. Designer jeans. New, polished boots. Crisp button-down with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. Not a dark-blond hair out of place. “Maybe we could hang out. Sit together at dinner tonight.”

“Maybe.” Never. I was going to avoid him at all costs.

“I hear we’re going camping tomorrow.”

Shit. I swallowed a groan. “Glamping. Can’t wait.”