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He nods and then leans back.

“Let me know when that changes.”

My heart races at his admission. I wanted him to kiss me that one day, and he only didn’t because I’d asked him not to the night before. I know that now.

So, if I ask him now …

My heart races anytime our knees touch during the remainder of the flight, as we watch a movie, and whenever he laughs. It races even faster each time he looks at me.

These looks aren’t for the camera either; they’re for me.

And I’m keeping them.

A car is waiting for us when we get off the plane, and while the driver loads our luggage, Preston guides me to my side of the car and opens my door for me.

Then we ride in silence to the resort.

I want to say it’s awkward, but it’s not. It’s more like the two of us want to get in just a few more moments of peace before the show.

The car pulls up to the valet; we get out and walk inside.

“Of course everyone is standing in the lobby right now,” Preston leans down to whisper in my ear. “Are you ready for this?”

I lace my fingers through his.

“Yes.”

“Good because⁠—”

“Preston King.” His grubby coworker—the one who tried to catch us in a lie at the charity event—speaks first. “We are so thrilled you and Grace both made it. I was beginning to wonder if this would be another one of your ‘Oh, she can’t make it because of work things,’ and then, surprise! She shows up.”

“Oh—”

“Not this time,” I cut in and force a smile just for him. “Although I’m sure you do understand that some work issues can’t be placed on hold. I lucked out in that department with Preston. He knows how important business can be and is always understanding.”

“And that is a welcome trait to have in leadership,” another man says before Marcus, I think his name is, can reply. “Hello, I’m Bash.”

“Grace, this is Bash Coffman. Bash, this is my fiancée, Grace Richford.”

Hearing him say that sentence out loud gives me butterflies.

“Hi.” I extend my hand.

Bash shakes it.

“It’s lovely to meet you finally. The girl who has had Preston’s attention since he was fifteen is one you⁠—”

“Is Camry here?” Preston interrupts in before Bash can go on.

“She is. She’s booking a massage at the spa for the end of the week before heading home.”

“You should do that,” Preston says to me. “We can sort it out when we check in. It was good to see you, Bash. And Marcus … enjoy.”

Preston leads me away from his coworkers but doesn’t let go of my hand.

“What was Bash saying about you and me at fifteen?” I ask.

“Who knows with Bash. We met in college, and when I told him about my father’s company, he basically changed his major to follow in my footsteps. My father hired him when I graduated, and he’s worked his way up like me.”