Epilogue #1
“This is incredible,” I tell Bear as he hands me a glass of champagne. As I spin on my heel, taking in the gallery full of Sawyer’s photography, he keeps a hand at the small of my back. He’s pretty possessive tonight. Not surprising, considering the final part of the exhibit are six pictures of me wearing nothing but freckles and salt spray.
A woman turns from examining a photo, sees me and does a double take.
“Is that…?” She points to me and the group turns to compare me to the black and white photos on the wall.
I sip my champagne, wishing the glass was bigger to hide the red in my cheeks. None of the pictures show more than a hint of my naughty bits, but with all the skin on display, they might as well. With the ragged bluffs behind me and the sand and surf curling aroun
