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I keep my attention on the front door of her cabin, just willing it to open with her appearing on the other side.

I’ve royally screwed things up with the media.

I rub a hand over my face and let out a loud breath.

But have I?

I can’t be the only one to think that while things started fake, that doesn’t seem to be the case now. Now, it’s real. Well, all but the engagement part. The feelings are very real, and that’s really the part that counts. The rest is just semantics, and Grace knows that, right?

Would I have liked for this progression in our relationship to have happened a different way? Absolutely, yes.

But that’s not how it went down, and I only have myself to blame.

Well, me and that fucking reporter.

She had a plan from the moment she got here. Hell, I bet she had a plan from the day our post went live and Grace’s weasel of an ex ran his fucking mouth.

What’s his goal here? Ruin Grace’s life and get the girl back? No. He’d be here more if he wanted her back. I think he just can’t stand to see her happy after she turned his proposal down all those years ago.

Some fucking people.

I move to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. I twist the cap a lot harder than needed and start to chug.

I need to forget about that guy. My focus needs to be on how I’m going to own up to Grace that I should not have said a word but still convey that I don’t hate the idea of marrying her.

No, I can’t say it like that.

I need to tell her that I like the idea of marrying her and that, yes, while I opened my mouth the way I did, I think we should plan a wedding we really want. One we can be proud of. One that is real.

I groan and then toss the empty bottle into the trash.

Sure, Preston, just tell the woman you decided to be fake-engaged to just seven weeks ago, who used to despise you, that you want to marry her for real, and then ask her to come to LA with you. Tell her that you’ll split time, anything, if it means you get to keep her.

Sounds more like a romance novel than real life.

But fuck, I’ve known Grace for my entire life. She’s not new to me.

The way we are now is new, but it feels like we’ve been together forever. A good forever. A perfect forever.

I grin.

Grace and I forever. I like the sound of that.

Finally, I hear someone at the door.

I watch the doorknob turn, my heart racing at the turn of events this day has given us and at how, in just a matter of minutes, it could change again.

She feels the same way. I know she does.

But when the door opens, Dutton, Gavin, and Linc fill the space.

“Ah! Found him.” Linc grins.

“Grab your coat and let’s go,” Dutton demands, and Gavin punches his arm.

“Be fucking nice.” Then Gavin turns to me. “Grab your coat and let’s go, please.”

I can’t help it; I chuckle.