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I lower the paper. “Thank you so much.”
“Hey, of course.” She flashes me a smile, then directs one at Frederick, who is still standing stiffly against the wall. “If y’all aren’t too busy with wedding planning, you should join a group of us tomorrow night for karaoke at The Black Hole just up the road.”
“That’s sounds fun. We might just do that.” I take her hand and squeeze it. “Thank you, Lucy.”
“No problem.” She picks up the keys, shakes them. “I’ve gotta lock up, so unfortunately we need to go now.”
“Sure. We’ll probably see you at the restaurant in a bit. I’m getting hungry for lunch.” I turn to Frederick, who is still looking at me with an inscrutable expression. I know I have a lot of explaining to do, but so does he. Why is he here of all bodyguards? I honestly cannot afford this distraction. Theonlygood thing about Frederick being here instead of someone else is that he will blend in better as my pretend fiancé.
But only if he can get with the program and start pretending he’s in love with me.
So, my heart dancing double time in my chest, I hold out my hand and look pointedly his way. “Ready to go, babe?”
four
FREDERICK
Babe?
What twilight zone have I suddenly entered wherein the princess of Kentonia is pretending like I’m her fiancé? I did understand that correctly, didn’t I? The massive migraine I’ve been nursing all morning isn’t causing my brain to malfunction?
But no, she’s standing there, hand extended, one perfect eyebrow arched over those pleading blue eyes.
Waiting.
And while I don’t understandwhyshe’s doing this, I trust her. So I take her hand in mine, twining our fingers together. Mine is large where hers is small. Mine’s calloused and rough, hers smooth and soft. This is every fantasy come to life, simply strolling through the store and out the door with her.
And it is the sweetest torture, knowing it’s only for a moment in time.
The woman who was helping her, Lucy—who looks harmless enough, but whom I’ll still be doing a background check on later—locks up behind us and yells goodbye before looking both ways and crossing the street. I turn to Chloe, whose eyes are following Lucy. Her hand is still tucked in mine, and she’s nibbling her bottom lip, an action that drives me absolutely mad with the desire to kiss away whatever’s causing her concern.
Normally when I feel this way, I avert my eyes, count to one hundred slowly in my head, bring myself back to equilibrium. Normally, I can’t follow her when she inevitably rights herself and moves on to the next thing, the next room—wherever. Right now, though? It’s my job to follow her.
There is no escape from my desire. But I can still count to one hundred. Can still hold myself from her. So I drop her hand accordingly. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”
Her gaze shoots to me and gone is the far-off look in her eye. “It’s quite obvious, isn’t it? I’m guessing Topher informed you about why I’m here. Lucy thought I was planning my own wedding, and that you were my fiancé. So I went with it for the time being. I actually think it’s brilliant.” Chloe folds her arms over her chest, and she retreats into herself a bit. It’s not often that she lacks confidence, but in this moment I can read her like one of her favorite romantic comedy novels. “Now it’s your turn to tell me what’s going on. Why did Topher send you?”
“To protect you.”
“Well, yes. But whyyou?”
I’d normally tease her and ask whether I should be offended that she didn’t want me around. But there can’t be any teasing. Not today. Not until Topher and the rest of the security detail arrive in nine days. “He thought it would be best.”
I could go into more detail, sure, but this isn’t the place for a discussion. We are standing on the edge of the sidewalk, and there are people milling about everywhere. I don’t like this. She’s too exposed. I haven’t had a chance to assess the dangers of this community, and the wrong person could overhear us. “Let’s go.” Taking a step toward the crosswalk, I then turn to make sure she’s following me. She’s not. “Come on, Princess.”
“Muscles, you can’t call me that here.”
I flinch at the tease in her voice, the use of that nickname for me, and rub the bridge of my nose. I need to stay focused on the task at hand, which is getting her to a less busy location and figuring out what kind of situation she’s gotten us into. “I said, we need to go.” I pause. “Please.”
She looks me up and down, sighs. “All right, all right.” Thankfully, she follows, and I do my best to veer around the midday bustle of tourists and locals alike traversing Main Street. Some are stopping at the windows, looking inside, and exclaiming over whatever wares are inside. Others are charging forward, sure of their destination. But all of them are in our way as I get us from Point A to Point B—the beach.
I don’t even take the time to remove my socks and loafers, just plow through the sand until we’re standing close enough to the water for the sound of it to drown out what we are saying. Despite the nice weather, the beach isn’t as crowded as the street (likely because it’s a Wednesday), so the nearest grouping of people is a good fifteen meters or so down the beach.
Chloe stops beside me and whirls, hands on her hips. “Why are you acting so strange?” She’s breathing a bit heavily and I suddenly feel guilty for making her rush.
“I’m not acting strange.” I definitely am. But I have a good reason for holding off on our usual camaraderie, because these are anything but usual circumstances. Other than that night in the garden four years ago, I can’t remember a time when the two of us were truly alone like this, no other family, or friends around.
Not only does that mean I need to be extra cautious—on alert for anyone who might wish to harm the princess—but it also means that there are no buffers between us. Our jokes and our teasing are normally very brotherly and sisterly. They’ve had to be, with so many eyes on us.
