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

Gage and I walk side by side toward the front door, and I make a fist to keep from reaching for his hand.

Before he opens the door, he turns back to me, his eyes drifting over my face. “They’ll think it’s odd. That we ran away together and then I send you home the next ceremony.”

I wave this away. “Eh, I wouldn’t worry about it. They ask you afterward why you send the women home, right? Just say that while you and I clicked at first, after spending more time together, it became increasingly apparent that we weren’t compatible.”

He lifts his eyebrows. “So. Lie?”

“Sort of. I guess it’s lucky you’re a talented actor, right?”

Gage exhales. “Sure. Right.”

Neither of us moves to open the door, and I have the fierce urge to throw my arms around him and beg him to whisk me away to someplace where we can hide out as Mr. and Mrs. Belvedere forever.

Instead, he reaches out and opens the door.

I thought I was prepared.

But what awaits us is so much worse than I ever expected.

Ellie

Gage was correct. The man we saw in the driveway did indeed go to gather the camera crew.

And the producers.

And Adam.

And the rest of the women.

There’s not a single smile in the bunch.

Unsurprisingly, it’s Adam who steps forward. He’s polished as ever in a blue dress shirt and khakis, but his expression is carefully arranged into “displeased principal” instead of his usual “country club pimp.”

“Ellie. Gage.” Adam’s voice is somber. “You’re aware that by running off, you’ve betrayed the trust of the other contestants?”

The other contestants? Really? That’s their biggest concern? Not that we were in breach of contract, or completely derailed the entire filming schedule?

Then I remember…the cameras. This is all for the cameras, and the viewers at home don’t give a crap about contracts or filming schedules; they want catfights and drama and romance.

I glance to my right, where the other women have been arranged awkwardly in a line, their slightly-less-perfect-than-usual makeup showing that they scrambled the second they learned Gage and I were back.

Paisley catches my eye and gives me a quick smile, but it’s strained and a little bit worried. Uh-oh.

“Ladies, I apologize for my behavior,” Gage says from beside me. “Despite being an actor, I’m unaccustomed to the camera catching every moment of my personal life, as I’m sure all of you are. I acted impulsively in an effort to get a moment alone.”

“But you weren’t alone,” Aurora points out. “You took her.”

Gage shrugs as though this is an insignificant detail. “Ellie happened to be the one with me at the time.”

“So if someone else was with you during that surfing lesson, you’d have run away with them?” Ivy asks.

There’s a sweet hopefulness in her tone that makes my stomach churn. For the first time, it occurs to me that some of these women might care about Gage—or at least think they do.

What I did—what we did—was selfish. Wonderful, but selfish.

I swallow and prepare to issue an apology of my own, but before I can get a word out, Raven steps forward to stand beside Adam, hands clasped behind her back.

The lead producer is always around, so I’m not surprised to see her. Nor am I surprised by her scowl. But I am surprised when the cameras shift to focus on her. Raven has always been on the other side of the camera, relying on Adam to be the front person.