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“How is me lying my head on your lap helpingyou?”
“For starters, it would be far more convincing if you laid your head on my lap than if we continue to sit a whole meter away from each other looking like we’re having a row,” Chloe says. “Especially because at this very moment, Betsy is watching us from the balcony.”
“That’s not dodgy or anything.” This joking response pops out, and Chloe’s giggle confirms her delight that some of the teasing between us is back.
I sigh. I’m weaker than I thought. Maybe if I can just get rid of this flippin’ headache, I can get things back on track. “Fine. You win.” And then I shift and stretch out my legs on the stone bench, placing my head in Chloe’s soft lap. My feet dangle over the side—it’s bound to happen when you’re as tall as me—but instantly, I am more comfortable.
Until Chloe begins to run her fingers along my forehead, my temple, down the line of my nose, over my closed eyelids. I nearly leap up from my spot, but Chloe places a hand on my chest. “Stay put, Muscles, and that’s an order.” It’s probably my imagination, but her hand seems to linger right over my heart, and then it’s gone, all ten of her fingers going to work again on my head.
“Yes, Your Royal Highness.”
“That’s a good chap.”
It’s relief like nothing I’ve ever felt. Her touch—first gentle, then firm—soothes away the tension, chases the pain. It’s better than any medicine, any pack of ice, any rest.
I’m not sure how long I lie there. In fact, I’m fairly certain I fall asleep under her ministrations, because when I finally open my eyes, they’re a bit gritty like they are after a nap. I blink up at the darkening sky, only to find her beautiful face hovering over mine. “Hey,” she says again. Seems to be our thing lately. “You feeling any better?”
“I think you cured me, Princess.”
She smiles softly, but her eyes alert me to something amiss.
I sit up, groaning at the effort. My muscles are stiff, my rear end tender from the hard bench. “What’s wrong?”
“I was worried about you.” She takes her hair and threads it through her fingers, chewing her lip again.
“There’s more.”
“Ugh, yes.” Now it’s Chloe’s turn to stand. Arms crossed over her chest, she stares into the fountain for a few moments before twirling back to face me. “Betsy came by while you were napping since she was about to head home. I told her we would love to book the venue and she said she’d draw up the paperwork.”
“That’s great.” So why does she look like someone disappointed her?
“Yes, except when she returned with the paperwork, it had our wedding date at the top. But it was for one year from now.”
Oh. “That’s not good.”
“No.” Chloe laughs in a self-deprecating way. “And when I informed her of the mistake, she told me that it was ridiculous to think I’d find a proper venue with only ten days to spare. I don’t know.” A pause. A tremble of her lip. “Maybe itisridiculous. MaybeI’mridiculous for thinking I could do this.”
I hate sitting here and watching her come undone without being able to pull her into my arms. But since we don’t have to play the happy bride and groom in this moment, there’s no excuse for me to do so. With my headache abated, our time being just Chloe and Freddy has ended.
But even if I can’t offer a hug, I can still offer her words. “It’s literally been one day of looking. This is the only place you’ve tried so far.”
“But there weren’t any other venues listed on Rhonda’s sheet.”
“So you’ll ask around and find somewhere else.” I spear her with a look, trying to infuse the confidence I feel into her own veins. “Look, Chloe, I don’t know anything about planning a wedding, but I know you. You’re one of the most determined people I know. If anyone can do this, you can.”
It’s several long seconds before she responds, but she’s looking at me in a way that unnerves me. Studying me as if she can peel away the layers and see what’s underneath.
Blimey, I hope she can’t.
She swipes away a single tear, nods, then lifts that gorgeous chin. “You’re right. Icando this.” Chloe straightens her shoulders. “Wecan do this. I believe in us.”
I don’t know about that, but I do believe in her. “I’m with you.” Even when I don’t agree with her methods.
“Thanks, Freddy. For being here.”
“Always.” The word is out before I can stop it, and I wonder if it surprises her as much as it does me. So I rush forward with more words, to undo any harm the first might create. “It’s my job, after all.”
She freezes, nods again, looks away. “Right. Yeah. And you’re very good at it.”
