Runaway Groom (I Do, I Don't 2)

“If my shoes get stolen, you have to replace them.”

“Deal,” I say, tilting my head up toward the sun, which has started to peek through the afternoon clouds.

“Why are we here?” she asks as we start to walk side by side.

“Thought you wanted to talk to me.”

“I do, but we could have done it in the car.”

“Damn it, Ellie.” I stop and turn toward her. “Am I that bad? I get why you want to go home so you don’t have to be a part of the show, but am I such tedious company that you can’t stand five minutes with me so I can breathe without a camera on me?”

She tilts her head slightly. “Shouldn’t you be used to cameras on you by now? This is your life.”

I feel a stab of disappointment. “Sure. Right. We actors knew what we were getting into, right? So we don’t get to complain?”

“No, wait—”

I don’t wait. I turn and walk away, stopping only when her fingers grab my arm and tug me to a stop.

I turn back to her, and she shoves her sunglasses to the top of her head so I can see her hazel eyes. Then she huffs out an impatient sigh and, going up on her toes, shoves mine to the top of my head as well.

“I’m sorry,” she says simply. “It was wrong of me to assume that you want to be under the spotlight all the time.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, not really,” she acknowledges. “It must get old.”

“It does, but we don’t need to have a therapy session about it,” I grumble. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Ellie blows out a long breath. “Right, okay. So, while you were out with the breakfast girls today, the rest of us ate our breakfast out by the pool.”

“Fascinating,” I drawl.

She looks toward the water as though debating something, then back at me. “Maria’s going to sneak into your bedroom tonight,” she blurts out.

It takes me a second to absorb this. “Okay.”

Ellie’s mouth drops open. “That’s it? That’s what you have to say?”

I shrug. “They warned me that at least one of the women would try it. I admit I thought one of the Brittanys would be the first, but you don’t need to be so scandalized on my behalf. Though I’m glad you’re concerned for my virtue.”

Her nose wrinkles just the slightest bit. Not at the women, but at me—at my response to this news. “So, what’s your plan? To have sex with anyone who crawls between your sheets?”

“Depends who’s doing the crawling,” I say with a grin.

She raises her voice. “I just told you! Maria!”

I have no intention of sleeping with Maria—or any of the contestants, at least at this point. I’ve no interest in trapping myself. But I confess I’m enjoying how riled up Ellie’s getting about the very idea of it.

I take a step closer to her. “Are you jealous, Ms. Wright?”

“I don’t even know why I tried to warn you,” she mutters. “You deserve whatever comes your way.”

“I can handle it,” I say quietly. “You think this is the first time someone’s tried to worm her way into my bed uninvited?”

“No, but she might be the first pregnant woman.”

I still. “What?”