But before he could reach her, a man went racing past us, lifting his hand in passing. It was Callum, Weston’s groundskeeper. “Aye, I’m on it,” he called before jumping in a beat-up truck and tearing after the horse.
“Bloody hell,” Weston whispered under his breath.
“What do you want to bet Lena set her free?” I quipped.
Weston smirked, shaking his head at me. “What a mess.”
“Worse than my last property deal,” I agreed.
“Oh yeah, was that the one where God told the guy not to sell to you?” Weston asked, grinning.
“That’s…notexactlywhat happened,” I hedged, letting out a frustrated huff when Weston laughed at me. “Look, it was a perfectly normal deal at first,” I explained. “How was I supposed to know that, a week before we were scheduled to sign the papers—and long after we issued press releases about our plan for the new luxury resort—the seller would get smashed, plow his car into a tree, and ‘find Jesus’ to explain how the hell he survived, resulting in him walking away from the deal?”
“Did he really end up giving the property to charity?”
I nodded. “And I’m not even mad about that. It was thegleein all the rags that got to me, everyone painting it like some kind of feel-good story about how the big, bad property developer lost out. Why amIthe bad guy?” Did I want the property? Sure. Was I going to fight a guy who was trying to donate to charity? No. But that didn’t stop the press from turning me and my company into the incompetent villain in this story. “Fraser Developments is basically the laughingstock of the real estate market right now. I need to find a new project to redirect the narrative ASAP.”
Weston hummed, and I knew he understood. Thanks to a vengeful ex, he’d had his own struggles with his name and reputation being smeared.
“But that’s not what today is about. It’s about you and Lena. And how sickeningly in love you are,” I teased. “At least one of us has a win to celebrate.”
Weston’s face fell. “I hope it doesn’t feel like I’m rubbing my happiness in Alistair’s face. Celebrating all this when everything is rubbish for him.”
“Hey,” I said as we slipped into a tent. “He wouldn’t have missed this for anything. Not even the police tracking down his scam-artist ex.” Jessica had embezzled millions from his company, then vanished without a trace, leaving Alistair in the firing line with the press and with his company’s board, who held him responsible. They were now suing him for negligence and breach of fiduciary duty. But he had us in his corner, along with his daughter, Kenna, and I knew he’d never begrudge Weston his chance at happiness. “Listen, mate, no matter how many women try to swindle us or how many business deals fall through, we’ll always show up for you. And we’re happy for you.”
Weston huffed a laugh.
“I mean it,” I said, nudging his shoulder. “You got win-the-lottery lucky finding Lena, and that deserves to be celebrated.” It certainly wasn’t the kind of love I was after. That had disaster written all over it ninety-nine times out of a hundred, but I was glad it had worked out for him. “That kind of love is rare, and you need to cling to it with every fiber of your being.”
“I know,” he said seriously.
“Besides,” I said. “It’ll probably be a relief for Alistair to get Kenna away from London and the paparazzi for a weekend, so they can just relax.”
“And you?” Weston asked as we cut into the ceremony tent. People had finally started to take their seats. “Are you going to relax?”
I laughed. “You know I never relax.” I was always looking for the next property I could transform. “Speaking of, any good land in the area in need of development?”
“You’re thinking of putting one of your luxury resorts here?” Weston said, surprised.
“Well, yeah. Why not?” Braeburn meant a lot to us. It had since that first summer at his Grandad’s camp. I needed a new deal to improve the optics of Fraser Developments, and why shouldn’t that deal genuinely help out a small-town community I happened to love? Plus, this part of the country was stunning, and it deserved more attention and appreciation than it typically got. “I think it’s past time I contribute to the town in a way that helps it flourish.”
“That’s a fantastic idea,” Weston said. “I’ll ask around, see what property’s available. Why don’t you book yourself off another weekend to come back and see them all?”
“A whole weekend?” I tapped him lightly on the chest, teasing. “Sounds like you just want Uncle Locke to come back and babysit Aisling so you and Lena can take a second honeymoon.”
Weston inclined his head, humming with interest. “Technically, we didn’t even take our first.”
“So now your real motive comes to light.” I patted his arm, then turned to take my seat next to Alistair and Kenna.
Click, click, click.
I glanced up as I tracked the camera flash—and froze. That hair. That mouth. That devil-may-care smirk behind the lens.
It washer. Toyota Terror was the photographer for this event.
No. Bloody. Way.
I’d seen it all when it came to relationships.
