Eighteen
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Just follow me,” he said.
“Does it really require running?” I said. “Because I am in heels.”
He stopped abruptly, then picked me up, carrying me in his arms.
I laughed nervously. “What are you doing?”
“Being spontaneous,” he answered with a grin, “there’s a place on the property that I want to show you. I thought about waiting until the wedding, but I don’t think it can wait. I wanted you to know about it now.”
“Well, you could have just let me take my shoes off,” I suggested.
“True, but that’s far less romantic. You see, my dear Rose, I did notice something about that interview that I intend to rectify as soon as I am able to, no matter how long it takes.”
I winced. “I suppose you’re talking about me not saying I love you?”
He sto
