I grow still at the sound of my name, and a tingling heat sweeps over me.
“Waverly Garwood,” Jake says again. Closer this time. Behind me
Heart quickening, I turn.
He walks toward me, yellow firefighting pants smudged with soot, blue T-shirt stretched over a torso I know is heaven to touch. Behind him, on the other side of the park, the fire engine coasts along the street, and whoever is behind the wheel blasts the siren in a short, deafening burst.
I gasp. The paparazzi shout, stumbling over themselves, cameras aimed at Jake.
He doesn’t acknowledge their existence.
His stare is locked on me, an unreadable expression burning in his eyes as he destroys the space between us in long, steady strides. I want to throw myself into his arms. I want to wrap my legs around his hips and kiss him until he apologizes and promises never to leap to goddamn conclusions again. Until he swears he will love me forever, the way I know I will him.
Instead, I stand motionless, flicking the paparazzi agitated glances.
The click of their cameras pepper the air, a continuous assault on my senses. And Jake’s privacy. My stomach knots, and I want to shout at them.
Until Jake stops directly in front of me.
“You’re not getting on that bus, Waverly,” he states in a low murmur.
I tilt my head back to look up at him, the heat from his body licking at mine. “I’m not?”
He shakes his head. “You’re coming home with me.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Am I now?”
He nods. “And I will spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to show you how sorry I am for being anequus caballus’s arse.”
My lips twitch. “Yes,” I whisper. “Youwerea horse’s ass.”
His nostrils flare. “And until I show you how much I love you.”
My heart slams up into my throat. I try to swallow it back into place. “And how much is that?”
He gazes down into my eyes. “So much I’m going to do this regardless of who’s here taking photos…”
Smoothing his hands up the sides of my throat, he brushes my bottom lip with one steady thumb, brings his head down to mine, and kisses me.
The cameras click. A frenzy of clicking.
And I don’t care. Jake is kissing me. Jake loves me.
I wrap my arms around his neck and press my body to his, surrendering completely to my love for him.
A heartbeat later, a rushing roar cuts the air, a fine mist of cool water sprinkles down on us, and the paparazzi let out enraged shouts and curses.
Laughing, Jake tears his lips from mine and grins at someone behind me. “Looks like the crew has our backs.”
I twist in his embrace and let out a happy laugh.
The fire engine is parked in the bus zone, two firefighters standing next to it, one holding a hose, blasting water almost—but not quite—at the lurking photographers. Pushing them back and away from us. Shielding us with a shimmering arc of water.
“Sorry, Conroy,” the biggest one shouts, his own grin broad. “Just had to do a quick check on the water pressure. Hope no annoying ghouls were too close. It’d be a shame if their cameras got wet.”
“All good, Gibbo,” Jake calls back. “Work’s work, right?”
He turns his smile to me, fine water droplets resting on his hair, eyelashes, and cheeks. “Any chance you’d like to spend the rest of your life with me?” he murmurs. “I can’t guarantee daily Giant Dragonfly sightings, but I can guarantee I will love you with every fiber of my body from now until the end of time. What do you think?”
