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“What’s wrong?” Colton asks.

“Oh, nothing.”

“That sigh didn’t sound like nothing.”

I smile at him. “The hot dog cart reminds me of the unflattering costume I get to wear every day.”

Great. Now he’s going to think of me in that ridiculous outfit again. It’s bad enough that he gets to see me dressed like that every day. Why do I feel the need to give him extra mental reminders of my predicament? Not the way to appear desirable, Elle. So not the way.

He snorts, probably because he remembers how stupid that hot dog suit makes me look. “You don’t like the outfit?”

I shake my head. “I hate it with a vengeance. It’s ugly and brownish and it makes me sweat like crazy. I’d rather be one of the condiments.”

He stops and turns to me. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you look unbelievably hot in that costume.”

Wow. Prince Charming sure has a knack of making me weak in the knees. “Really?” I ask. I find it hard to believe he’s being honest about this.

“I’m serious.”

I level him with a look. “Even with that hat dripping fake red ketchup over my face?”

“Especially with that hat. You’re the sexiest hot dog I’ve ever seen. Almost no one can pull off that costume without looking silly, but you do. Everything about you is beautiful. Your face, your smile, your kindness, your funny comebacks, and the way you sometimes struggle to find the right words.”

Heat flushes my cheeks. I’m not great at receiving a compliment, especially not from a dream guy like Colton. “Thank you.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. I hardly ate at the restaurant,” he says. “So, what do you say?”

“Do you want me to make you a hot dog?”

“What? No, that’s not what I mean at all.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’d hate for you to think I see you as my personal hot dog provider. I thought we could get something from the cotton candy machine.”

“Is that even possible?” I ask. The machines all get cleaned and powered down before the park closes every day, so I don’t know how he’d pull this off.

“Of course. It doesn’t take long to set it up or to clean it. No one will ever know we sneaked in and got ourselves a nice treat.”

I follow him to the castle grounds where several shops are scattered around the courtyard, all of them with faux facades that remind me of a fairy-tale land. The only sounds are our footsteps on the cobblestones and the soothing splash of the courtyard’s fountain. I sigh and take a long, slow breath in, trying to savor it all.

“The park looks amazing after closing time, right?” Colton asks.

I nod. “Do you come here often after hours?”

“Sometimes. Frank doesn’t mind, and it helps me clear my mind,” he says while powering up the cotton candy machine. The equipment whirs to life with a soft humming sound, and he grabs a stick to make the sugary treat for us. He spins it around like a pro, his wrist flexible as if he’s been doing this for years and making cotton candy comes naturally to him.

“What?” he asks with a smile when he catches me looking at him.

“I was just wondering if there’s anything you’re not good at.”

He laughs. “Of course there is. If you’re wondering about my expert handling of this machine, you should know that I manned one of these stands before I got the Prince Charming job. Practice makes perfect.”

He shuts the machine off and hands me the cotton candy.

“Aren’t you going to get yourself one?”

His eyes glisten. “I thought we could share this one.”

“Oh, sure, we can share.” I sound casual—I hope—but my tone doesn’t match my feelings. I feel like a blob of Jell-O in his vicinity, about to go wiggling all over the place should he touch me.

I flash him my biggest smile in an attempt to come across as relaxed, but the way he frowns suggests that I probably resemble one of those poor people you see in constipation medication commercials, so I immediately tone it down to what I hope is a normal smile.