Page 70 of Rook

When he was done, he gave my fingers a reassuring squeeze before it was my turn to exchange the ring.

It was a surreal thing to see it sitting there on his finger, a sign to the world that he belonged to someone.

But, of course, not really.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

My gaze shot up to Rook’s.

He shot me a soft smile, leaning down to press his forehead to mine for a second before sweetly pressing his lips to mine.

It was over in a blink.

But my heart felt like it had swelled twice its size as Rook took my hand and led me away as the next couple stepped up.

“I got the most gorgeous picture of the forehead touch. The way he was looking at you—swoon,” Gigi said, jogging to keep up with us as we walked out into the fresh air once again. “I mean, the lighting was horrific, but I can fix that in editing.”

“I’m sure it will be perfect,” I assured her, though I sounded as distracted as I felt. All of my focus was on the fact that Rook’s hand was still in mine and the strange pulsing warmth that spread up from the contact.

Not desire.

Something softer around the edges.

Affection?

“I will follow you guys to the picnic!” Gigi said, offering us a wave as she rushed off toward her car.

“You alright?” Rook asked, watching me.

“Yeah. Fine. You want to drive?” I asked, offering him the keys.

“Sure.” I could feel him still watching me, but I pretended to focus on rearranging the rings on my finger.

It was a short drive from the courthouse to the farm, and I was grateful for that as the awkwardness in the car swelled.

“Oh, wow,” I said with an exhale as, a few minutes later, we walked up to the picnic spot.

I was barely even aware of Gigi running backward in front of us to catch our reactions.

We’d let her go before us, taking all the shots she needed without us, so she was fully focused on our reactions as we took it all in.

It was everything I wanted. And more.

They’d set up an area twice the size I’d been expecting with a picnic area—complete with a tan and white gingham blanket, food, champagne, and the Edison lights I’d wanted. But there was also a set of old trees adorned with twinkle lights with a large rope hammock strung between, just inviting us to lay down and enjoy some quiet time together.

“Nicer than any picnic I’ve ever been to,” Rook said, nodding.

The women who’d set it all up had been waiting for us when we’d exited our cars, but had since driven off to give us privacy.

Well, privacy except for Gigi and her snapping.

“Just act like I’m not here,” she said as we made our way to the blanket, each of us kicking off our shoes before sitting down.

Music drifted over toward us—sweet, romantic songs that were somehow making me sad—as Rook popped the champagne, and I feigned surprise and delight as the bubbles shot out and dripped down his hand.

I didn’t have to fake the relief I felt at my first sip of the champagne, knowing it would take the edge off of my anxiety within a few moments.

“How about a linked arm sip?” Gigi asked, crouching down a foot away from the blanket.

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