Page 51 of Written with Love

She shrugged, trying to play it cool, but inside, her heart was soaring.

After their meal, they took a slow walk along the beach, the waves lapping at their feet as they strolled side by side.

“So, I have one more item I wanted to discuss with you,” Max said, turning towards her and wrapping his arms around her.

“Oh? You need help painting the rest of the house and since you’ve seen firsthand how much better at it I am than you, you’ve decided to ask me to paint the rest all by myself?”

He chuckled. “True, but not what I wanted to say.” He kissed her and then rested his forehead against hers. “I wanted to ask you to move in with me. The place seems empty. Without you.”

She felt her heart flip again in her chest, only this time it was a warm sort of feeling.

“It already feels like home,” she admitted. “You feel like home.” She kissed him.

Just then she felt Max tense. She heard the clicking of cameras and understood why.

Before she could even see the cameramen, Max turned and sheltered her and they started walking quickly back towards the stairs leading them home.

“Wait,” she said, stopping him. “We wanted this, right? After all, we just went public.”

He sighed and then nodded before glancing around. “As long as you’re sure.”

Juliette took a steadying breath and squared her shoulders. “Yes, let’s do this.” This was exactly what they had wanted—what she had wanted. To take control of their story. So why did the flashing cameras still make her stomach twist?

Max’s grip on her waist tightened protectively as he scanned their surroundings. The photographers weren’t aggressive, but they were persistent, calling his name, asking for a statement, snapping endless photos. She turned to him, her hand still clasped in his.

His eyes softened. “Okay, just remember this was your idea.”

She smiled at him. With a bright, confident smile, she leaned up and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. She felt him smile against her before pulling her even closer, deepening it just enough to make sure there was no doubt in anyone’s mind.

The cameras went wild.

When they finally broke apart, Max exhaled a laugh. “That should do it.”

“Think it’s enough to get Gabriella off your back?” she asked, amused as they started walking up the stairs leading home.

“If not, I don’t know what will.” He grinned, giving her fingers a squeeze. “But I don’t care. As long as I have you.”

The warmth in her chest spread. “You have me,” she promised.

When they reached the top of the stairs, she glanced over her shoulder. The paparazzi were still there, some reviewing their shots, others making calls. But instead of feeling overwhelmed, she felt free.

She had spent so much of her life hiding, hesitant to let anyone in. But here she was, standing beside Max, choosing to be seen. Choosing to be his.

“Come on,” he murmured, leading her inside. “Let’s celebrate moving in together. I have some more crème brûlée or there’s mint chocolate chip ice cream. Your choice. We can watch a movie together and enjoy the rest of the evening.”

“You had me at crème brûlée.” She kissed him again.

She laughed as he pulled her towards the house, already knowing that no matter what craziness the world threw at them, they’d face it together.