26. Rosalyn

TWENTY-SIX

ROSALYN

"Looks good," I tell Presley.

"Thanks." She flicks a rogue ice cube back into the cooling tray. "I think just the desserts are left to get outta the van. I'll get it if you'll organize the spring rolls."

"Deal." I nod.

After discussing the menu with Blake, we agreed cold food was the easiest for logistics and the most refreshing with the warm summer weather.

And even in the heat, hauling ice around in our wagon is still easier than setting up grills and warming pans.

So we have cold salads and pastas, mini sandwiches and chilled chicken skewers.

The courtyard thankfully has tables and chairs already in place, with bright red umbrellas sticking out of the center of each table. And Blake arranged for a row of food tables, also under umbrellas, so no one should be getting sunburned this afternoon—my pale ass included. And the shade means that the ice should last through the ninety-minute event.

Honestly, I love working corporate events. They're short and usually drama-free .

Presley takes one step away from the table to get the desserts. But before she takes a second step, she freezes.

"What?" My heart jumps. "Did we forget something?"

Presley shakes her head, but she's not looking at me. Her wide eyes are looking past me.

I have the irrational urge to ask her if she sees a snake. But her expression might be more shock than fear.

"Should I hold still or turn around?" I ask in my best cautious voice.

"Um… probably hold still," she replies quietly.

"What?" I hiss. "Is it a fucking snake?"

She blinks and moves her gaze to my face. "What?"

"Never mind." I shake my head.

Her stunned expression lifts into a smile. And I don't trust it.

"I'll go get those desserts." Presley keeps smiling as she rushes past me.

I barely stop myself from shouting after her, still not completely convinced it isn't a snake.

Slowly, to avoid any sudden movements, I turn around.

And then it's my turn to freeze.

Because striding across the lawn is a man.

A tall man with tousled brown hair, mesmerizing hazel eyes, and a body made to climb.

A body wrapped in tailored pants and a tight black T-shirt.

His perfect lips are in a flat line, and I know his trimmed beard would feel scratchy against my mouth.

I take one step back.

I don't even mean to. I just do it.

Nathan shakes his head once, and I stop.

My heart is already beating wildly, and it only gets worse as he closes the distance between us.

I remind myself to breathe.

Nathan comes to a stop before me.

"Hello, Rosie."