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“Oh. Thanks.” He pats my arm and brushes by me for the exit.

It’s amazing how easy it is to say no when I have a beautiful woman vying for my time and attention.

I look up and catch her watching me, a smile playing around her mouth.

We walk toward each other.

“Hey.” I stop a couple feet away.

“Hey.” She stops too.

We’re both grinning like lunatics, ignoring the people and children swirling around us.

“Would you two get a room already?” Daphne mutters, walking by with a box of props for the photobooth.

I tilt my head. “She has a point.”

Giggling, she grabs my hand, and we race to the reel room, dodging questions and people attempting to thwart us on our path.

Once we’re locked in the dim room alone, I lean down to kiss her.

She stops me with a hand on my chest. “I’m really upset about something.”

I lean back. “Are you okay?”

Her lips press into a thin line. “It’s spring now and getting warmer.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It means no more sweater vests.” She pokes at my polo shirt.

I laugh. “Oh, I have plans for sweater vests this summer.”

Her brows lift. “You do?”

I run a finger under the strap of her dress. “It involves me, you, a sweater vest, and nothing else.”

Her eyes widen with interest. “Intriguing.”

Then her mouth meets mine, and I forget about the sweater vests, the theater full of people behind us, and possibly my own name.

Until there are a series of knocks against my back.

I groan, releasing her.

“Who is it?” Vivien calls.

“It’s Audrey! I know you guys are, uh, busy, but we’re running out of ice, one of the Polaroid cameras broke, and there’s a toilet backed up in the men’s room.”

“We’ll be right out,” I say loudly.

Vivien groans, her forehead dropping to my chest. “I don’t want to go out there.”

I rub her arms. “It’s okay. I’ll help you.”

She lifts her face to look up at me. “You will?”

“Of course.”