The Wedding Wish

finally gotten a class with her best friend. This had been the first one all year. During the last session, they’d studied the female figure. Today’s focus was the male anatomy. She adjusted her newsprint on the board before her, feeling Cindy grab her arm.
    “Hang on,” Cindy said under her breath. “I think we’ve just been blessed.”
    Isabel slowly raised her eyes to spy the back of their tall, blond model as he slid the robe from his frame. Musculature rippled across his well-toned back and taut derriere. “O. M. G.”
    “Yeah. Right,” Cindy whispered. “I’m almost scared to have him turn around.”
    As he did, Isabel gasped. When she and Robert had played doctor as kids, they’d teased each other with slight glimpses of each other’s bodies, but she’d never seen as much of him as all that. Even if she had, it certainly couldn’t have competed with the way he looked now. All grown up and gorgeous.
    Robert set his robe on a nearby table, then took his place on the stool at the front of the room, bathed in the spotlights’ glow. He was…absolutely…perfect. From his head down to his toes then… Oh! All the way back up again—past his buff six-pack and broad, muscled chest and that hot-as-sin sexy face that, in and of itself, could make most women moan. Isabel swallowed hard, not at all sure she could do this.
    “What’s the matter?” Cindy asked, hastily beginning to sketch. “Why aren’t you starting?”
    Isabel was grateful she sat at the back of the room and that the glare from the lights was in his eyes. She felt her grip on her pencil slide as her palms went moist.
    “I just never thought I’d have this opportunity.”
    “You and me both,” Cindy said, giving Isabel’s hand holding the pencil a nudge. “And neither of us is going to waste it.”
    “No,” Isabel said, striving to remain professional. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

    Robert sat as still as possible, trying to distract himself from the fact that he was sitting naked before a crowded room. If he hadn’t made that deal with his buddy Alan, he’d never be here. As it was, he was stuck upholding his end of the bargain. When he’d been suddenly called out of town to New York, he’d needed someone to pick up his shift at the lab quickly. The sole volunteer in sight had been Alan —a lthough Alan’s offer of help had come with a price. He had a freelance job he needed Robert’s help with later. Robert had easily agreed, thinking maybe Alan did part-time landscaping or something. He had no clue he’d wind up here, like Adam in need of a fig leaf.
    Robert’s only sense of relief lay in believing nobody in the class knew him. He’d just caught a glimpse of their faces as he’d entered the studio, and, gratefully, none had looked familiar. Now all he had to do was stay put for the next ninety minutes, ignoring the fact that his…uh…personal attributes were on open display. The fact was, there was nothing personal about this. This was a centuries’ old practice concerning the rendering of art and creative portrayals of the human body. That it was his body in particular didn’t matter one iota to any of the artists in the room. And Robert knew he’d do well to remember that.

    Robert approached the Student Center, spying a beautiful blonde seated in a booth beside the plate-glass window. A backpack was parked beside her on the bench as she busily tapped at the laptop positioned before her on the table. She worked with fierce concentration, oblivious to the swirl of commotion around her. The Student Center was always a busy place, with people bustling in and out, chatting loudly and carrying coffee. The young woman was wholesome-looking yet refined. There was something so familiar about the curve of her cheek… Robert reached for the door, and she turned toward him and smiled. His heart leapt in his chest. Isabel . She was even prettier than he’d recalled her being on the lawn. And his memory should still be sharp. That was only four hours ago.
    Blue eyes met his and twinkled. “I was beginning to think you’d stood me up,” she said in a soft Southern twang that made the back of his neck flash hot. Isabel and her family had moved here from Atlanta when she was just ten. She’d never fully lost the accent. Even as a kid, Robert had found the sweet cadence of her words intoxicating. He took a seat across from her in the booth, noting he still wasn’t immune to her charms. “I’m a man of my