Page 15 of The Lucky One

But something eases inside of me, and this time I’m fully aware of the song choice switching to ‘Enchanted’.

“Bridget.” Andrew says through gritted teeth.

Somehow Weston’s touch gives me an extra boost to brace myself for Andrew’s antics. “I don’t think you should call me again,” I say, and Weston grins down at me.

Andrew lets out a frustrated growl. “You can’t be serious.”

To my dismay, Weston bends and presses a kiss to my forehead. Time stands still for just that moment, where the light touch of his lips steals my breath. They’re surprisingly soft, and there’s a quick image of his massive hands rubbing strawberry flavored chapstick on.

At least I think that’s what I smell.

Weston’s chuckle refocuses my attention and with a jolt I bring the phone back up to eye level.

What in the world?

Clearly unaffected, he turns to the screen. “She’s serious. And if you need an extra boost in comprehension skills, we can arrange for a restraining order.”

Andrew turns a concerning shade of red. “That won’t be necessary. Bridget—call me when you’re done playing house.”

“We aren’tplayinghouse,” I say, making sure to emphasize the word. “So don’t wait around for that phone call.”

He disappears from the screen as he ends the call and I let my arm finally drop to my side. I need a few minutes to process everything that just happened.

As if the house senses my inner turmoil, the volume of the song gets louder.

“Are we going to talk about this?” Weston asks. “You don’t act surprised.”

I’m pretty sure I know what he’s referring to, but I ask anyway. “Which part?”

“The random song playing.”

The lights dim a couple of notches.

“The house is just a little?—”

“Haunted?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Enchanted. It sort of shifts based on the residents' desires. At least that’s what I was told.”

“That’s interesting, Goldilocks. Is that why I’m here? Were you thinking about me?”

And just like that, all the positive feelings I had for Weston vanish. “You’re incorrigible.”

“But theoretically, that makes sense, right? You were thinking about me, and here I am.”

He looks entirely too pleased with his theory.

“I fully intended to stay herealone,” I say, pressing a finger into his chest. “So how does that even make sense?”

“Wait. You knew it was like this when I told you about it in January?”

I yank my finger away like I touched a hot coal, and put a couple of steps between us. “Maybe.”

“And you just didn’t think to mention it?”

“It sort of acts up the most when there are couples present.” I press my lips together.

Weston’s eyebrows shoot up. “So it’s like a matchmaker?”

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