Page 27 of Wedding or Not

“They didn’t… didn’t hurt me. I just got scared for no good reason.”

“There was good reason. You’re looking real shaky. Let me walk you back to your cottage.”

Part of me feels like I should object since the gesture will take him away from his work, but the offer is exactly what I want right now.

I don’t want to be alone where strangers can get to me.

So I thank him and keep my eyes downcast as we walk the rest of the way to the gate and then down the drive that leads to the cottages.

When we reach the front door, Jake stands, looking down at me and bristling.

“It’s okay,” I tell him. “I’m fine, and nothing really happened. I just felt kind of trapped and overreacted.”

“Y’all gotta stop this nonsense.”

“No, no! It’s been all fine until just now. I’ll be more careful.”

He doesn’t look convinced. He’s glowering but not at me.

“Please don’t tell anyone I was so silly.” I gaze up at him beseechingly. “I’m already embarrassed about it, and it was no big deal. Please don’t tell.”

He mutters something I take for reluctant agreement, so I’m able to escape into the cottage.

No one else is there. Natalie is still in the office, and Audrey went to her university library in Baltimore to do research.

I lock the door, shake off the lingering fear, then climb up to the loft so I can hibernate until I feel better.

CHAPTER 8

Several hours later, I’m still hibernating.

When Natalie got home, she must have sensed something was wrong because she came up to see how I was.

I told her I have a headache, and she accepted that as an explanation.

No one has bothered me since.

Tomorrow I’ll be fine. I’m sure of it. It was a weird aberration, and I’ll be myself again in the morning. I don’t know why I still feel shaky about it.

Nothing happened.

Nothing.

I hear a knock on the front door of the cottage, but Natalie will get it. She’ll tell whoever’s there that I have a headache and I’m not to be bothered.

So I don’t worry about it until I hear footsteps coming up the stairs.

“I have a headache!” I call out.

“So I’ve heard.”

Shit, it’s Wes. What on earth is he doing here?

“I don’t want company.” I try one more time.

“I don’t care. I’m here anyway.” He’s made it up the stairs and is standing in the loft, staring down at me in the bed.

I don’t like getting under the covers until it’s actually bedtime, so I’m lying on top of my comforter instead, bundled up in a soft, oversized throw blanket. I changed out of my dress and into a T-shirt and lounge pants. I’m not wearing a bra.