Page 42 of The Lucky One

When I glance at her, she’s so lit up she practically glows; motherhood is a great look on her. I can’t imagine how much brighter she’ll shine when they add to their family.

“Don’t change the subject. Does he make you happy?”

“I think so,” I say softly.

She wraps her arms around me so tight it steals my breath for just a second. I wish I’d let myself open up to her more about everything with Andrew.

“The only way to break the spell?” Gaby asks.

“That’s my cue.” I squeeze Ella and pretend my hardest to be a super unimpressed princess. My acting skills are tested thoroughly when I hear little girls in the audience gasp in delight.

But when Weston’s eyes land on me?

I deserve an Oscar for not melting on the spot. Or maybe he does, because I’ve seen that look on men before. Luke looks like this at Ella; Holden looks like this at Laila. Butno onehas ever looked like this at me.

We do our best to follow the instructions Gaby gave us: he tries to charm me, I act like I’m unimpressed and fairly grossed out by the fact that he’s supposed to be a frog.

When she finishes her story, we launch into the mini skit we’re supposed to end with. Gaby gave us each a headset—like the ones we used from the wedding—and we’re each fed our lines.

“I can’t believe this leprechaun cursed me!” Weston cries, dramatically throwing his arms in the air.

I shrug in response, like a truly uninterested princess would do. “Well, I suppose you’re destined for a long, slimy life.”

“He said if a princess kissed me, I’d turn back into a prince…”

“I have some friends on speed dial,” I say, turning away.

The crowd bursts into laughter.

He walks toward me. “But you’re a princess.”

I turn back toward him, trying my best to channel my best Disney Princess. This is much harder than it looks.

“I have a strict rule about kissing frogs?—”

“Please.” He bats his eyelashes playfully, and it’s getting increasingly hard to take any of this seriously.

With a disgruntled sigh, I kiss my hand and then press it to his cheek. “There!” I announce. “You’ve been kissed by a princess.”

But then Weston goes off script, and reaches up, threading his fingers through mine. I think I’m going to stop breathing, right here in front of everyone.

There’s not much distance between us, but he takes a small step forward, then one more. I’m fairly certain my heart is about to leap out of my chest as he inches closer.

“That didn’t work, Spitfire. I’m still a frog,” he whispers, with a grin. “Guess you’ll have to do it properly.”

At the moment, I can’t name a single reason why I shouldn’t kiss this frog in front of everybody. I want the Irish prince back.

And Ireallywant to know what it’s like to kiss Weston Reilly.

“I suppose it would be the right thing to do.”

There’s shouting in my ear but I can’t make out what they’re saying. I think the crowd is chanting for us to kiss, maybe, or it could be me. Telling myself to walk on the wild side.

I rise up on my toes at the same time he bends down and our lips meet. It’s chaste and perfectly G-rated, butholy wow.

For that couple of seconds, the whole world went quiet. Now the roar of the crowd is deafening and I can’t think. I don’t want to think. My fingers itch to tug him back down to me so I can see if it was a fluke, or if it’s normal for your legs to turn into Jell-O over a sweet, simple kiss.

“And the curse is broken!” Gaby cheers. “Now we’ve got to catch the leprechaun who cursed our fair prince, so it never happens again!”

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