Page 22 of Wedding or Not

I’m swaying toward him, preparing to stretch up to meet his mouth with mine, when a flash of light breaks into the tension between us.

Both of us jerk backward. Then shift in the direction of the flash.

“Wh—?” Wes scowls as he peers in the darkness. “What the hell?”

“Did she just take a picture of us?” I’m trying to figure out what I just saw, but it sure looks like a woman crossed into the private area of the gardens where our cottages are located and just snapped a photo of me and Wes.

Me and Wes about to kiss.

“Yes, she did.”

Then, before my brain can catch up, Wes takes off after the woman at a run.

“Wes!” I call after him, shocked and confused and half amused at the ridiculous situation. “Wes, don’t bother!”

My words don’t stop him. He’s racing down the drive in the direction the woman took off in.

I follow at a leisurely jog and catch up with him at the gate that blocks us from the public areas.

On the weekends, the gardens are open until nine, so she was probably just a regular visitor who decided it was worth trying to catch us unaware.

She did indeed.

Wes is scowling out at the path through the cherry trees and panting loudly. He was really booking it, trying to catch her.

I’m laughing as I stand beside him. “What exactly were you going to do when you caught her? Tackle her to the ground and snatch her phone away?”

He falls into wheezy chuckles. “No. Of course not. I’m not even sure what I was trying to do. It’s just obnoxious. Not only is she breaking policy here, but she was intruding on our privacy.”

“I know she was. It was a nasty thing to do. But unless we’re willing to install bodyguards, I’m not sure how we can stop it. It won’t last forever.”

“I know.”

“And we actually do want the publicity.”

“I know that too.”

“So why the dramatics?”

“I have no idea.” He shakes his head ruefully and takes my arm as we start walking back to the cottages. “I just reacted. I was pissed.”

“Yeah.”

Honestly, now that I think about it, I’m kind of pissed too.

Because Wes was about to kiss me.

And now he’s not.

Wes walks me back to the front path of my cottage. He’s caught his breath now, and his face is relaxed and wry and warm. “What a way to end a good evening.”

“I know. But it absolutely was a good evening.”

Spontaneously and without second-guessing myself, I reach up to give him a soft, quick hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

One of his arms tightens around me very briefly before he pulls back. “Good night, Ella.”

“Good night.”