A laugh echoed behind her. She turned around to see him laughing and shaking his head.

“Is there a problem, Mr Reid?” Peyton asked, a little annoyed.

He let out another chuckle before composing himself and returning his hands in his pockets. Then he shrugged at her. “Of course not, Miss Spencer. The wedding sounds beautiful.”

That, they could both agree on.

After walking across the grass, she stopped at the end of the cliff and turned to face him. His grey eyes still held beauty to them, and she held the map tight between her fingers, crushing it.

“And the lake’s pier and bridge will be the place where the photos will be taken,” she said, pointing at both structures.

“I’m sure Marissa will like that.”

Peyton ignored the little pang of jealousy she felt and led him towards the guesthouses, though she wasn’t sure why she bothered. He’d grown up in this town. He knew it better than anyone else. But still, Peyton showed him around The Spencer-Dayle, ensuring that he wouldn’t change his mind when it came to the location of his wedding.

When she finished the tour, she led them back to the hotel lobby. She stood next to the front desk and stared at the amused grin on his face. Callum ran his hand through his hair before he sighed.

“So, Mr Reid?” Peyton said, cutting to the chase.

“Cut the ‘Mr Reid’ bullshit, Peyton. It’s Callum and you know it. I get it. I’m the last person you want to see—”

“You’re right about that,” Peyton said, interrupting him.

Callum flinched. “But you didn’t have to give me a tour of the hotel. I know it like I know your body, Peyton. And I know it very well.”

Peyton tensed. She didn’t need a reminder of the only man who had ever seen her naked and the only man who had ever explored her so intimately.

“May I remind you that you’re engaged, Mr Reid. And yes, I will continue to address you as Mr Reid, because you are still a client of mine.”

His burst of laughter had Peyton taking a step back. The anger within her flamed then coursed through her body. She wanted respect and he was not giving it to her. Peyton pushed the wedding file into Callum’s chest.

“You know what, Mr Reid. You and your fiancée can take your wedding elsewhere. I will not be laughed at. I am now the owner of The Spencer-Dayle and I will not have my hotel laughed at by you, your pretentious wife-to-be, and your friends.” Peyton took her hands off the file just as he held it from falling.

“I don’t think Marissa will like that,” he stated.

“Well, Mr Reid, I do believe that’s your problem, not mine. I will refund your deposit first thing tomorrow morning,” Peyton seethed, meeting his eyes and ensuring he understood the seriousness of the matter.

“No, Peyton, Marissa will not like that. I’m so—”

“I’d like you to leave my hotel, Mr Reid. And I would also like to congratulate you on your upcoming nuptials. It is with regret that I turn away such a wedding. But I have morals and I have some self-respect. Please find another venue to host the wedding.” Peyton’s heart beat drastically against her chest. She was overreacting, but years of bottled-up emotions had broken free from the confines she’d thought were secure.

“What the fuck did you do, Callum?”

A loud voice had Peyton turning her head to see a man, just taller than Callum, at the door. His nostrils flared and his hands balled tightly.

“Oscar, I—”

“You had one job, man! Marissa is going to kill me!” Oscar stated through clenched teeth. He approached Peyton and breathed out, “I’m so sorry, Miss Spencer. Please reconsider. I need your hotel for my wedding. Please don’t let my stupid fuckhead of a friend deter you. I will pay triple. Please.”

The desperate tone in his voice had Peyton taking a step back.

“What?” She looked between them both, confused by the situation.

Oscar looked at her before he turned and glared at Callum. “Bloody hell, Callum! I asked you to just meet with her until I got here.”

“Me? Dude, she’s the one who thought I was marrying Marissa. I just thought it was funny,” Callum said. The corners of his lips tugged upwards, the cockiness radiated off him.

Oscar turned to Peyton, who was still stunned and baffled. “I’m sorry, Miss Spencer. It was my mistake to ask Callum to meet with you until I got back from my meeting. I’m Oscar Coulter and I’m Marissa’s fiancé. Please don’t let the actions of my idiot best man cancel our booking. I took one look and I love the hotel. Please let me marry the love of my life at your hotel.”

Relief flooded Peyton’s chest. Relief that confused her further. She had looked over the file plenty of times but had never come across Marissa’s fiancé’s name. She had believed it was her client’s desire for confidentiality that had prevented his name from being disclosed to her. Callum wasn’t engaged, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t in a serious relationship. Peyton shook her head, clearing her thoughts. He was nothing to her.

Oscar’s head fell. “Marissa is going to kill me. Thanks a lot, Callum.”

“Shit, man. I’m sorry.” Callum put his hand on Oscar’s shoulder, but Oscar shrugged it away.

“Forget it. I’ll just find somewhere else.” Oscar gave her a tight smile. “Thank you, Miss Spencer, for letting us see the hotel. I’m sorry Callum offended you. I assure you, I was very set on your hotel. Please keep the deposit as remuneration for the insult my friend here delivered you. Thank you for your time, Miss Spencer.”

Peyton watched as Oscar walked back to the entrance, Callum following him and apologising. “Wait!” she called after them both.

Oscar turned at her voice, the hope sparkling in his eyes. Callum, however, didn’t turn.

“I accept your apology, Mr Coulter. You may have your wedding here.”

At that, Callum spun around, apparently surprised that she reconsidered.

“Thank you so much, Miss Spencer. You have no idea how much this means to myself and my fiancée,” Oscar expressed with a grateful smile before taking Peyton’s hand and shaking it.

“Please, call me Peyton.” She smiled.

“Then call me Oscar.” He stepped back and breathed. His brown eyes flashed with relief and appreciation towards her.

“I’ll speak to your fiancée and ensure I have all the paperwork for your wedding in a month’s time. However, I do have a condition.”

Oscar nodded while Callum tensed. Peyton raised her chin and met eyes with Callum’s. Grey and beautiful. She hated his eye colour—hated everything about him. Mostly, she hated him for having broken her heart.

“Anything, Peyton. I’ll abide by anything you wish.”

The worried look on Callum’s face was one that Peyton found pleasure in. He feared her condition, and so he should.

“I’d like it if you ensure that your best man has as little interaction with me as possible. I do not want a repeat of his disrespect throughout this relationship you and Marissa have with me. Your best man is one who I cannot stand to be around. I have some pride, and if you wish to have your wedding here, then you will ensure you control him and his mouth.”

Callum raised an eyebrow and then grinned at Peyton.

“Consider it done! Move it, Callum!” Oscar said, pushing him out the door before mouthing, “Thank you,” to Peyton.

The moment the door shut, Peyton relaxed her body and rubbed her hand across her right cheek. In the space of an hour, she’d felt so many conflicting emotions that she had no idea what to think. All she knew was that she had to be careful. If he was anything like he had been when he was a teenager, she had to be on her toes. Callum Reid was a persistent bastard.

“I can’t believe you broke it,” Uncle John said.