Page 50 of My Not So Wicked Boss (My Not So Wicked 3)

Oh crap, my brain was saying. Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner. Did you just hear what you said? For the love of all that is good, listen to it. This was all very unwelcome news. I rubbed my heart furiously. At least it made someone happy.

Miles beamed at me. “You are brilliant, love.”

But would I listen to myself?Chapter NineteenThe last stop on the tour was the amphitheater. It had special meaning to me because of the pergola that sat front and center. I had watched the three best friends I ever had get married under it. It looked a little sad this time of year with dying leaves clinging to the vines. In the summer, it was covered in pink crawling roses, Mrs. Carrington’s favorite.

“Mr. Carrington and Mrs. Carrington were married under the pergola,” I told Miles while he took pictures of it. I stood close by, but far enough away to not be in any of his shots. “It used to be at the country club where they got married, but for their first anniversary, he brought it here.”

Miles lowered his phone. “He’s a romantic.”

“He is.”

“I will have to use that bit of knowledge for my story.” He waved me toward the pergola. “You and Henry get under the pergola, so I can take a picture of you.”

I froze in place. “I can’t stand under it.” And why did he need a picture of me?

Miles rubbed his lips together, confused. “Why not?”

“Because the pergola is kind of like a town legend. Anyone who has ever married under it has never gotten divorced. I don’t want to ruin that kind of mojo.”

Miles walked closer to me and Henry, who had been zipping all over the open space, crawling over and under all the wooden benches that lined the rows of the amphitheater. His fancy clothes had attracted a lot of dirt and his shoes were muddy because, yep, he had to check out the lake. Boy could that kid run fast. Miles barely caught him before it wasn’t only his shoes that had gotten wet.

Miles lightly touched the pergola. “Truly no one has ever been divorced that has married here?”

“It’s true. I know several personally, including Emma, Jenna, and Shelby.”

“But you don’t think you’re as worthy as them to stand under it.” He said it as a statement, not a question, and, wow, it felt like punch to the gut.

I placed my hand on my stomach. “Maybe. They each did it the right way. They got their education and grew up before they decided to raise a baby. And they picked good men.” I absent-mindedly picked one of the dying leaves off the vine. “I could have gotten married here. Mrs. Carrington offered it to me, but I instinctively knew even then it wasn’t going to last. Yet I did it anyway,” my voice cracked. I blew out a heavy breath to stave off unwanted emotion. “Anyway, do you want to head up to the main house and get some cookies?” I needed to eat my feelings.

“Aspen, wait.” Miles grabbed the lapels of his jacket I was still wearing and pulled me closer to him.

Whoa. I knew I needed to quit running away from men and emotional intimacy—more like discover what emotional intimacy even was. It would probably be best, though, to do that with someone who I hadn’t signed a contract with agreeing not to get entangled. But when I peered up into his eyes, I wanted to stay right where I was. No one had ever looked at me so tenderly.

“Aspen,” he repeated. My name never sounded so beautiful. He leaned in as if he wanted to do more than whisper my name. In his eyes, there was a battle raging. His lips parted and acted as if they were unsure what they should do, touch my own or speak. I held my breath, not certain which I hoped for.

With great reluctance he pulled away, yet he kept ahold of his jacket, keeping me close enough to stir long forgotten desires.

“I don’t know the ins and outs of your life,” he spoke low. “I hope someday we will become good enough friends that you trust me enough to tell me. But this I know; I’ve never met a lovelier woman. You deserve as much as anyone to stand under the pergola. I hope someday you find a man worthy of the honor and you.” He let go of me as abruptly as he had pulled me to him and strode off, leaving me to stare at him and rub my heart he had pricked in the most pleasant way.

~*~

Tuckered out from his adventures on the Ranch, Henry fell asleep in the car on the way back into town where we would be stopping at a local children’s boutique for his first pair of trousers. I glanced in the rearview mirror while I drove to catch a glimpse of my young charge with cookie crumbs on his sweater. His full lips and rosy cheeks made him look like an angel.

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