Weddings… Chin hated them.
Why he had signed up to do this one he'd never know. He glared down at his SLR camera as he flicked through the pictures he'd already taken on the back screen while the happy couple were shmoozing with guests and he got in a well-earned fifteen minute break.
Well of course he knew why he'd taken this job. During the down season surf photography session opportunities were few and far between, so work – and therefore pay – was scarce.
He hated doing weddings; they were always so stuffy and posh, at least the ones that paid well, and they were one high pressure, stressful, long day followed by a raft of even longer nights of editing while the newly married couple harassed him for the images. Did they think he just waved a magic wand and produced three hundred perfectly edited pictures overnight?
Aside from the money, there were no benefits to wedding photography whatsoever.
As he arrived at the bar, he looked up to see a blonde man hunched over a tumbler of whisky and swirling it gently over the ice. Okay… maybe there were some benefits to doing weddings?
The guy was hot. Wide shoulders and a slim waist, both accentuated by the cut of his tux jacket, and a firm, rounded ass that looked squeezable… biteable, even. Chin recognised him as one of the guests, and he'd snapped a couple of pictures of him earlier with the young daughter of the bride. He might be an uncle or other family member, although he didn't look like he was related to either of the couple.
He was gorgeous. His solid jaw was coated with a layer of fine golden stubble, and his eyes were steel blue. Such a shame his face was creased with an almost constant scowl when he hadn't been with the little girl – it was the only time he'd seen him smile, but it had practically lit up the room.
Chin sidled up to him at the counter while he pretended to flick through the photographs, and checked his watch. Ten minutes left of his break, may as well make it worth it.
"Aren't people supposed to be happy at weddings?" he tried as an ice breaker.
The blonde man raised his eyebrows and let out a wry snort, before looking over at him.
"This coming from the grumpiest wedding photographer I've ever seen?"
His voice was an amused purr, and the accent was mainland – maybe New York or New Jersey – and Chin had to bite his lip at the effect the tone had on his insides.
"Uh… What do you mean?" he managed to ask. Smooth, Chin… real smooth.
"You've been stalking around with that thing like you wish it was a gun you were shooting with and not a camera," the ha'ole chuckled and gestured to the SLR. A small smile flickered across his features, momentarily highlighting some laughter lines at the corners of his eyes.
So maybe grouchy wasn't this guy's natural state of being. He looked like he might actually be a lot of fun when he wasn't in a bad mood.
"What can I say? I don't really enjoy wedding photography… I much prefer being out and about doing sports work." He looked up at the barman. "Longboard, please."
"Well I hope you're being paid well," the blonde went back to nursing his whisky, "The groom's got a lot of money behind him, so make sure you negotiate well."
He didn't sound particularly enamoured by the man of the hour, and Chin guessed he was probably the bride's side and unhappy about the marriage, or maybe just an acquaintance who just wasn't the groom's greatest fan.
"I'll make sure I do," he took a sip of his beer, "So now we know why I've got resting bitch face, which I'll try to work on for PR reasons… what about you?"
The ha'ole sighed and picked up his glass, turning to lean his elbows back on the bar. He gestured to the bride, who was laughing and holding her new husband's arm while they talked to the Governor of the islands.
"The blushing bride right there? My ex-wife," he said simply.
"Oh…" Chin turned with wide eyes to observe the scene, "Wow…"
"Yup… the beautiful little bridesmaid over there is our daughter, Grace. She's the light of my life and the only, I repeat only, reason I'm here at this wedding making nice, and indeed on this pineapple-infested hell hole of an island…" He glanced at Chin and gave him an apologetic smile, taking into consideration he was probably a local. "No offence meant."
"None taken," the photographer replied, turning his body to lean against the counter in a similar fashion to his companion, "And can I just say I now fully appreciate why you have been wearing that pissed off expression the whole time you've been here?"
There was a short pause before the man cocked his head to one side and gave Chin a suspicious look. "You've been watching me the whole time I've been here?"
He almost choked on his mouthful of drink, but managed to recover. "I'm a photographer," he countered, "It's my job to observe everyone."
Nicely done, he congratulated himself.
The blonde nodded, the corners of his mouth pulling down in a pensive frown. "So you've been staring at everyone, huh?"
"Like I said, it's my job," Chin answered.
The last thing he needed was to come across as some weirdo stalker with a camera. If this guy was straight, Chin was going to get himself into trouble… if he were otherwise inclined, he might be creeped out by an overly-attentive photographer.
"Do me a favour, close your eyes."
Chin frowned and looked over at the other man. "Excuse me?"
The blonde narrowed his eyes, but smiled. "Indulge me."
Warily, the Hawaiian man put his back to the bar again and closed his eyes. "Okay…"
He jerked when he felt a warm hand lightly cover his eyes.
"Just so you don't cheat," came the reassuring voice, which flipped his stomach again.
"Cheat?"
"Tell me, mister observant photographer, if you've been watching everyone so closely… what colour are the groomsmen's ties?"
Shit, Chin thought. He couldn't visualise it at all. He had been so bored at this wedding, on auto pilot for the best part of it and just snapping away. He creased his brow and delved into his memories. He must have seen them so many times tonight without actually registering them… There! He could see it. A silk tie, and it was dark red, against a crisp, white shirt.
"Red…" he said, confidently, "Maroon, dark red, wine, whatever you wanna call it."
He heard the man chuckle, and the hand was removed from his face. The first thing he did was blink and look over at the best man and usher who were standing near the buffet for confirmation, and his breath caught in his chest.
Gold. Their ties were gold.
"Interesting," the ha'ole purred, and Chin shifted his gaze back to him, "It's more of a burgundy, really…" He adjusted his tie – his dark red tie, the one Chin had visualised moments before, because it was the mysterious, grumpy blonde he'd been staring at all night – and downed his whisky before backing away slowly.
"My name's Danny," he gave him a lazy smile that was laced with sex, his eyelashes low as his eyes flickered down Chin's body and gave him shivers.
"Uh…" he stuttered out a reply, "Chin. Chin Ho Kelly."
"Well, Chin Ho Kelly," Danny licked his lips suggestively, "Maybe on your next break you should come and find me again… I'd be interested to see what your other talents are, besides your astounding observational skills…"
With that, the blonde turned his back on the photographer and swayed his hips as he strutted away. He glanced back over his shoulder at Chin and winked, before disappearing into the crowd.
Okay, Chin thought to himself as he surreptitiously adjusted his semi in his suit pants and cleared his throat, maybe weddings aren't so bad after all…
