Page 67 of The Bad Wedding Date

We grinned, not looking away from each other. That connection grew until our smiles faded away with the sea breeze, leaving us staring into each other’s eyes, the tension getting thicker by the second.

“You have to let me go back to my life now, Fraser. I can’t lose myself to this, even though I know your intentions are honourable.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“You could always become my personal bodyguard and watch over me. Although, we’d have to talk about your hourly rate again. I can’t afford much on my salary.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Charlotte? Money isn’t what interests me. Moments are.”

“How many ofthosewould you like?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

* * *

An hour later, we pulled up outside my London apartment above a quaint florist, with Fraser leaning forward in his seat to look up through the windscreen as though he could get a view of anything other than a small window on the first floor.

I motioned to open the car door when his hand landed on my arm, making me stop and turn back to him.

“Let me get out and check the area first,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “Fraser, I’ll be fi—”

“Humour me.” His thumb brushed over my skin before he let me go and began to climb out of the car, leaving me to sink back into the seat and blow out a breath.

I shouldn’t have eyed his arse in those jeans when he got out.

Definitely not.

“Charlotte.” He tapped on the passenger window with his knuckles, and when I looked up at him, he offered me a small smile and chucked his chin towards the building.

Small things from such a big man did dramatic things to little old me.

Once out of the car, I dug around in the purse I’d grabbed when we fled the room, searching for my key. I wiggled it around in the air when I found it before I charged forward to the doorstep, where I turned around to say goodbye.

Fraser clearly had other ideas.

“I have to check your apartment. It’s my duty… as your newly appointed bodyguard and all.”

I hid my small smirk when I unlocked the door, holding it open for him to walk through. Once in the small foyer, he glanced over his strong shoulder at me and raised a brow.

“First floor. There’s only one door up there—my place. I could always lead the way and show you,” I said.

“The bodyguard always enters first.”

My cheeks flared to life with heat, but thankfully he didn’t seem to notice. He turned and gripped the bannister railing before he pulled himself up, taking two steps at a time with ease. I, however, struggled to keep up with him and ended up doing a light jog up the stairs until we were outside my door—me, slightly out of breath while Fraser looked the epitome of cool and unbothered.

“I should warn you, it’s nothing fancy.” I pushed the key into the lock.

“I’m not here to judge. I’m here to make sure you’re safe.”

“I bet you say that to all the ladies.” Pushing the door open, I stood to the side and welcomed him into my plain but cosy home.

When he casually stepped over the threshold, I imagined seeing my home through his eyes for the very first time. The decor was about as trendy as my dress had been yesterday. I loved floral patterns and ditsy prints. I loved green plants hanging from otherwise bland walls and rustic shelves. I loved books scattered all over the place and mismatched blankets draped over the arms of my mismatched sofas—one cream, one dusty pink. I loved the battered oak coffee table I rested my feet upon at night with a glass of wine in hand—the very table I’d picked up from some previous tenants in the building across the road, ten minutes before they’d been about to throw it out. I loved the half-melted candles on every surface and the compact, white kitchen beyond the living room that rarely got much use because cooking for myself when working shifts was rare. I either slept or worked, but when I did have time off, I’d be tucked up under a blanket in this room, reading books or messaging Jonah.

“You love this place,” Fraser said, standing in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets again. “Everything about it is you.”

“This is the first space I’ve ever had where I’ve felt I can truly be myself.”

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