Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Corey arrived at the park downtown a few minutes early. He had Presti on a leash and the pup was already investigating every interesting smell within a three-foot radius.
The whole area was decorated for the upcoming Christmas market.
A large tree stood in the center of the open space, strung with thousands of white lights, and wooden vendor booths lined the perimeter, empty now but ready for the weekend crowds.
Even without the vendors and the crowds, the space had a festive quality to it.
Presti, completely unaware of the nervous energy his human was radiating, was in full teething mode. He'd spent the last hour destroying a tennis ball, gnawing on a wooden spoon Corey had given him as a chew toy, and attempting to eat the corner of Corey's shoe.
Gayle appeared at four twenty-five, camera bag slung over her shoulder, wearing jeans and a soft-looking sweater. Her hair was down instead of pulled back in a ponytail. The difference was striking enough that Corey had to remind himself to actually form words.
"Hey," he managed, standing. "You made it."
"I try to be on time," she said, approaching. Presti immediately launched himself at her, tail wagging at maximum velocity. "Hey, buddy. Ready for your photo shoot?"
The puppy responded by attempting to climb into her lap while simultaneously trying to chew on her sleeve.
"He's been gnawing on everything,” Corey said. “Fair warning, he might try to eat the camera."
Gayle laughed, a real laugh that transformed her whole face. "Then we'd better get some good shots before he destroys it."
They walked through the park, the Christmas tree creating a beautiful backdrop. The late November afternoon was cool but pleasant, with the kind of clear light that made everything look like it belonged in a painting.
"It looks festive already," Gayle said as they walked.
"The market really transforms the space come the weekend," Corey replied. "If you ask me, it’s the best time of year to be on the island. I wouldn’t spend the holidays anywhere else."
They found a spot near the Christmas tree where the backdrop was pretty but not too busy.
Gayle set her camera bag down and pulled out her equipment, checking angles and light with the kind of focused attention that reminded Corey she did this work professionally.
Or at least, she did it well enough to appear professional.
"Okay," she said, looking through the viewfinder. "Let's start with some basic shots. Can you hold him so he's looking at the camera?"
Corey positioned Presti in his arms, angling the puppy so his face was visible. Presti, of course, immediately tried to lick the camera lens.
"No, buddy," Gayle said, laughing. "We need your face, not your tongue."
"He's very enthusiastic," Corey said, repositioning the wiggling puppy for the hundredth time.
"That's actually good for adoption photos," Gayle replied, moving to a different angle. "People want to see personality. They want to know the dog is happy and energetic."
She took several shots, adjusting angles and giving Corey directions. Hold him a little higher. Can you turn slightly left? Perfect.
Her focus was entirely on the camera and the puppy, but Corey found himself acutely aware of every small movement she made.
The way she tilted her head to look through the viewfinder.
The way her hands moved over the camera with practiced ease.
The small furrow of concentration between her eyebrows.
"Okay, let's try some with him on the ground," Gayle said finally. "Can you see if he'll sit and stay for a moment?"
Corey set Presti down and managed to get him to sit for about three seconds before the puppy decided a fallen leaf was the most interesting thing he'd ever encountered and took off running.
"Got it!" Gayle called, laughing. "That's actually perfect. He looks like he's mid-adventure."
For the next twenty minutes, they chased Presti around the park while Gayle captured shots of him running, playing, investigating, and generally being the chaos agent he'd proven himself to be.
At one point, Corey lunged for the puppy just as he was about to grab a stick, and he crashed directly into Gayle.
They both went down in a tangle of limbs, Corey managing to twist so he landed on his back instead of on top of her. The impact knocked the air out of his lungs.
"Oh no, are you okay?" Gayle gasped, pushing herself up on her elbows. She was hovering over him, her face suddenly very close to his.
"Fine," Corey managed, though he wasn't entirely sure. His ribs hurt, his shoulder hurt, and his entire nervous system was screaming because Gayle Walker was inches away from his face, her eyes wide with concern.
"I'm so sorry," she said. "He just came out of nowhere and?—"
"It's fine," Corey assured her, very aware that a strand of her hair had fallen across her cheek and he felt the urge to reach out and tuck it away. "Presti's chaos. Not your fault."
She helped him up, and for a moment after he was standing, she kept her hand on his arm like she was making sure he was actually okay.
"That was a spectacular crash," she said finally, stepping back.
"It was," Corey agreed. "Worth it though. Presti didn't eat the stick."
They continued for another ten minutes, but Presti was starting to wind down. The combination of exercise and excitement finally catching up with his energy levels. His eyes were getting droopy, and he was moving slower, less like a rocket and more like a normal puppy.
"I think we've got enough," Gayle said, reviewing the shots on her camera screen. "Look at these. They're great. He's so expressive."
Corey looked at the images she was showing him. Presti mid-leap. Presti investigating something. Presti with his tongue out, mid-bark. In every shot, the puppy radiated pure joy and energy.
"These are really good," he said. "You're talented."
"I'm learning," Gayle replied. "Necessity is a good teacher. The shelter didn't have a budget for professional photography, so..."
"So you became a photographer," Corey finished. "You're good at solving problems."
Gayle's expression shifted. Something vulnerable flickered across her face before she looked away. "I do what needs to be done."
"You do more than that," Corey said quietly. "You care about doing it well."
She didn't respond, just packed up her camera with focused attention, giving herself something to do besides look at him.
They began walking back through the park, and the Christmas tree lights were starting to glow as dusk settled in, casting a warm glow across the space.
"The tree looks beautiful with the lights coming on," Gayle said, filling the silence.
"It does," Corey agreed. "The market really transforms this place on the weekends. There's food, music, vendors. It becomes the heart of the community."
"It really does," Gayle said, and there was something wistful in her tone.
They reached the edge of the park where they'd have to part ways toward their separate cars, and Corey found himself not wanting the afternoon to end.
"Thank you for doing this," he said. "The photos. Spending the afternoon."
"It's my job," Gayle replied, but her voice was softer now. "Making sure the animals get placed in good homes."
"Is that what this was?" Corey asked. "Just the job?"
Gayle met his eyes, and for a moment, he could see the conflict there. The attraction she clearly felt but was trying hard to resist.
"Yes," she said finally, but there was no conviction in the word.
"Gayle—" Corey started, but she was already stepping back.
"I should get these uploaded tonight," she said, her voice back to professional. "I'll send you the best ones so you can see what we're working with for the adoption posting."
"Okay," Corey said, not pushing. "Thank you again."
He watched her walk toward the parking lot, Presti whining softly beside him, as though the puppy knew something was off.
"I know, buddy," Corey said, scratching behind his ears. "I know."