Page 66 of Runaway Bride and Prejudice

Van releases me. Stands. Holds out a hand to pull me up. “Come on, Mills. I want to see you fly.”

CHAPTER 13

Van

Zip lining sounded all welland good until we’re up on the wooden platform, gearing up. It’s not the height. It’s the alligators.

“Look at this view!” Amelia says, breathless and bright-eyed. She tugs on the end of her braid, and I barely resist doing the same.

I know she wouldn’t mind. We’ve been playfully touching each other practically since she hopped in my car. But I think if I tug on her hair, it will be pulling her into me. And that’s a very bad idea.

And not because of the alligators.

“I am looking at the view,” I mutter, forcing myself to look past her pretty face and her tempting braid, past the treeline to the pond below where dozens and dozens of alligators rest motionless like so many armored logs.

Armored logs with snappy teeth.

While Amelia was showering and I was trying not to think about her showering, I went downstairs and picked up a stack of flyers from the concierge on nearby activities, most of which are back on the mainland. Apparently, the only zip lining place with open slots today was this one. Which is an add-on excursion with your ticket to the alligator park.

Amelia’s and my opinions on reptiles are as disparate as our feelings on Keanu Reeves’s acting abilities. Amelia got evenmoreexcited about this when she realized we would get to see alligators.

“They’re so cute,” she said, which made me question her judgment even more than her faith in Keanu or choosing someone like Drew.

“Let’s get you strapped in,” the guide says, and my eyes snap to him just in time to see him wink at Amelia.

I frown.Could he have made that sound more like an innuendo?

“Hope you don’t mind me getting a little up close and personal for a moment,” the guy says, winking again, laying the innuendo on even thicker as he starts to help Amelia into her harness.

I check his nametag: Wave. Someone either had parents who were high when they picked out his name or he picked the nickname all by himself. As he kneels in front of Amelia, tightening the straps around her waist and, in my view, touching her a lot more than necessary, I find myself stepping closer.

Amelia doesn’t seem to pick up on his intentions, which should tell the guy she’s not interested, but when he stands back up, he does so right in her personal space, practically dragging his chest along hers on the way up. There’s no way for Amelia to missthat, and she laughs nervously, backing up until she’s pressed up against the railing.

“How’s this feeling?” Wave asks, his voice low and throaty.

Pretty awkward,I’d like to say.

Instead, I forget about all the murder logs down below and sidle up next to Amelia, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and brushing a kiss to her temple. Time to reprise our honeymoon role-play.

“Hey, baby,” I murmur, running my nose down her cheek to her jaw.

Amelia turns slowly, blinking up at me with slightly parted lips. Underneath her freckles, which I’m happy she didn’t cover with makeup today, her cheeks flush a pretty pink. I was going to wink just to clue her in but even if Wave hadn’t just ruined winking, the look Amelia’s giving me makes me forget for a moment.

Forget why we’re here.

Forget she’s not mine.

Forget my own name.

“Hi,” she whispers, like we’re sharing a legitimate moment.

And then, we are.

I reach up and brush back a strand of hair that’s escaped her braid. When my knuckles graze her neck, she shivers.

“You good, Mills?”

Because I’m not. In fact, I’m starting to suspect Amelia is going to ruin me.

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