I used to think pre-wedding photoshoots were overhyped.
Now I understand why people couldn't stop smiling through them.
The morning sun in Los Angeles was warm but not harsh, the kind that kissed the skin instead of burning it. The photoshoot team had arrived early. The stylists, photographers, and assistants were all buzzing with quiet excitement. Our planner, Cecilia, was in her element, already directing people like this was a movie set.
Jace and I were sitting side by side while the stylist fixed my hair into soft curls. I wore a flowy white dress with thin straps that shimmered whenever I moved. Jace, of course, looked like he'd just stepped out of a magazine with a crisp white shirt rolled at the sleeves, black slacks that fit too well, and that effortless confidence that always gave him away.
"You're staring," he said without looking at me.
"I'm allowed to," I replied the same way he usually did.
He chuckled lowly. "You look beautiful, mia cara."
