Page 27 of Point of No Return

“They’ll be here soon,” Josie reminds me, extending a pair of white gloves, decked in pearls to match my dress. I stare at the offering, debating whether it’s worth covering the tattoos at all. “It’s your choice. Whatever’s comfortable.”

I give her a tight smile in the mirror before swiping on a coat of red lipstick, leaving the gloves behind. “I’m ready.”

The photographers have apparently come by the boat full. By the time I reach the garden fountains, I can already see the lot of them gathered by the cherry blossoms further down the stone path. My attention doesn’t linger on them long. Not when I spot Skar standing near the spitting water dragon.

He’s foregone his usual tie in favor of leaving the top buttons of his dress shirt undone, revealing the smooth muscled plane of his chest. The tattoos on his neck and hands are fully visible now, and I have trouble not staring at them as he turns, watching Josie and I approach.

Though he’s sporting his usual frown, I don’t miss the way his eyes flicker over me. The corset is tight enough to kill but with the babydoll sleeves and airy skirt that falls just below my knee, I feel like a cloud. I’m sure I look like it too.

I come to a stop beside him, my gaze flickering between him and the camp of people that have set up further away.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Are you?” he counters. I ignore the tension between us, painting on a mask of indifference.

“It’ll be over soon enough.” I stand a little straighter in response, feigning confidence. I allow him to lead the way, walking beside him as we approach.

“They’re here!” someone shouts, and like a flock of birds, they swarm us. I’m surprised so much by the sudden flashing and the noise that I jerk when Skar reaches for my hand.

“Charlotte! Skar!” someone parts the crowd and steps through, seemingly in charge. “We were thinking we’d start interviewing beneath the trees. The photos will take beautifully.” The man, tall and dressed in a bright green suit, extends a hand.

“Noah Lawrence. Pleasure.” He reaches toward one of his assistants, withdrawing two microscopic microphones to attach to our clothes. “Put these on, and we’ll just record responses for the interview.”

We do. I feign a smile as Skar slips his hand back into mine. “Of course.”

We’re herded toward a swing hanging from the pergola in between the trees. “We’ll have you sit in the swing, dear. Oskar, just behind her. Standing, maybe push the swing gently.” I grip the rope swing handles as I take my seat, balancing as Skar assumes position behind me, his hands just above mine. “Perfect, Oskar.”

“Just Skar,” he grumbles.

“Perfect,” Noah grins, directing the series of photographers into positions. One of them comes forward to fan my dress out in a perfect circle around my legs. “Tell us everything. How did you meet?”

I inhale deeply, blowing out a breath before answering. “Our families have known each other for forever. We met so long ago. A party, I believe,” I glance up at Skar carefully. He’s looking down at me, eyes unreadable as the swing gently sways in the breeze.

“Beautiful,” Noah says. “Tell us how it all began. I want every detail. The first date- the full story.”

“Well,” I sigh, glancing up at the blossom petals softly falling from their branches before I answer. “It was love at first sight.”

I hear Skar scoff, his hands smoothing over mine. “That isn’t true.” I can’t hide my surprise. The cameras flash as I look at him.

“No?” Noah prompts.

“She hated me actually,” Skar says. “We met at a Midsummer’s party years ago. I talk a big game. She all but called me on it.”

“We were all surprised when we heard you were finally settling down,” Noah hints at Skar’s all-not-too-elusive past.

One I know better than to ask or look too deeply into. The Benenati boys have definitely had their fair share of women at their beck-and-call.

“Everyone has a past, but I think we’re both looking forward to the future.”

What the hell is he doing?

“That’s good.” The cameras flash as Noah motions me upward. Standing, I brush the wrinkles from my dress. All the while, I can still feel Skar looking at me. “Look at each other, not the camera,” Noah tells me, and I reluctantly look back at Skar. His dark hair has been ruffled by the wind, and he drags a hand through it as we look at each other.

“How did he propose?” Noah urges.

My eyes are drawn to the ring on my finger. Cameras click as I gaze down lovingly at it, but the feeling in my gut is something like anxiety. “It was magical.”

“I’m guessing he went all out. Fireworks, cameras-”

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