Chapter 29

29

ELLA

With Bark Wahlburger looking out the oval window, we’re back on the private jet en route to Nebraska. Jack has my feet in his lap while I’m checking my emails, feeling very normal even though every moment with him is like a fairytale dream. The problem is, I’m just waiting for the wicked stepmother to pull me into a nightmare.

As for my dad, the latest update on his health is that it continues to fail. I guess that’s one thing you can’t throw money at. But at the end of the email, it says, Thank you for the payment and the generous donation.

It takes me a long moment to process the words before they make sense.

I lean over to show Jack the email on my phone.

He says, “You must have a fan club.”

“Very funny. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Technically, Carlos did it. You can give him a hard time later.”

Thinking about his sister Leah, I reply, “I don’t think I’d mess with the Smith family. ”

“You’re a wise woman and they’re good people to have in your corner.”

After glimpsing the text from Allain last night about Jack’s “distraction,” I want to be in his corner, but is he in mine? I didn’t mean to read it, but I’d dozed off in the SUV and when his phone brightened, I roused and saw the comment about me being a distraction. He didn’t reply.

Since leaving the life I knew for over two decades, being stranded on the island, and having to scramble to survive, I’ve felt discarded, but being a distraction almost feels worse.

I remind myself that this is a fake relationship.

Then why does it feel so real every time we kiss?

In the latest episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous: Bouchelle Edition, while punctuality is important, I don’t get the sense that speaking out of turn is paramount, but I’m not part of that world, as Aston made very clear. Allain too. But what about Jack?

Clearing my throat, I take a risk and say, “I don’t want to be a distraction in your life. Not from hockey. Not from your family.”

“A distraction from hockey? No, you’re an enhancement.”

My cheeks warm. “I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“Next week, I’m going to play better than I ever have. It’s a guarantee. Wait and see.”

“You’re just being boastful.” I slit my eyes, challenging him, but I cannot resist the upturn of my lips. He was right. I do like to smile … at him. Realizing this turns the insides of my cheeks pink if such a thing were possible—and everywhere else too.

“As for my family, you made dinner the other night colorful. Lately, if Aston isn’t on her phone, she and I are bickering. If she is on her phone, Dad is reviewing the P&L.”

“But I don’t want to be your rebellion against your father. ”

“As childish as you saw me act, that’s not what this is. Promise.”

Right. This fake relationship is to enhance his career and dig me out of debt. Jack made good on his word and now it’s my turn.

Practically pleading now, I say, “You gave me a minute to catch my breath?—”

His gaze snaps up from where he was studying my hand. Bookmark that for later because they’re nothing special. A little pudgy around the knuckles. Jack says, “There’ s a but coming.”

He’s not wrong. Letting out a breath, I say, “But I’m not part of your world.”

“Says who?” The question is like one of those earth-boring machines and drills down past my thoughts and into the cavern of my heart.

Jack slides his palm into mine. “I have a good feeling about this.” His eyes do that sparkling thing as he draws our joined hands to his mouth and kisses the back of mine. “Jack and the Puck Princess. Maybe that’s what I’ll name my next yacht.”

“You cannot name a yacht that.”

“You can name a yacht anything you want.”

I laugh. “It needs to sound proper like Carpe Diem or The Navigator.”

“On the contrary, naming boats is meant to be funny. Jack be Quick was almost christened Big Boaty.”

I giggle. “Like booty? That’s hilarious and so wrong”

His eyes shine. “That one was Mom’s idea, too. Half the fun of being at a marina is reading the boat names.”

“Sounds like she had a sense of humor.”

He nods and taps his chin. “How about Hockey-rella? Do you have a Jaq and a Gus?”

I tip my head back with laughter. “How do you know about Cinderella’s woodland creature friends? ”

“I’m not an ogre. I’ve seen the movie. Who are your wicked stepsisters?”

“My debt and bank account. They refuse to reconcile.”

Jack clicks his tongue. “I’ll take care of that.”

“You and that magic hockey stick.” I shake my head, wondering how I’ll ever be able to pay him back.

He waggles his eyebrows and leans close, tickling the baby hairs by my ears, “It’s all yours, Hockey-rella. All of it. And me.”

My eyes close and the chatter of the dueling voices in my head gets louder until I blurt, “Jack, I can’t accept all this.”

“I understand that you’re independent and it’s difficult to ask for help, so think of it as a gift.”

“I already owe too much. You have to let me repay you.”

“That’s not how gifts work. Just because I give you something doesn’t mean you owe me.”

But my mind spins because that wasn’t our agreement. Bark Wahlburger yips, but not as if he’s backing me up. More like reminding me to mind my manners. I toss him a treat and he catches it in his mouth.

Jack’s nostrils flare as if preparing for an argument. “I said I’d support you.”

“I’d rather be poor and know the truth.”

He frowns. “About what?”

The words us and you and me , are on my tongue, but I can’t say them. Maybe I do have something to lose. Perhaps I don’t want to know because of the disappointment the truth is sure to bring. Does that mean my feelings for Jack go beyond fake?

He says, “It doesn’t have to be either or. Money doesn’t make someone honest or dishonest. It’s whether they let themselves believe it makes them better than people without it.”

“What do you believe?” I ask.

“That I like spending time with you more than any of this.” He gestures vaguely around the private jet. “If you asked me to wear your softball jersey and wrote a check, I’d tear it up and tell you that all I’d want is another night like that first one at the resort.”

His words come close to touching a deep place inside of me, but I shrink away, afraid that if I let him in, there will be no turning back. No repairing my heart once it’s broken.

Were the women in aisle five wearing Carolina Storm jerseys, right?

“Easy for you to say. You’ve never been poor.”

“Ella, money doesn’t keep you company. Money doesn’t go to sleep and wake up with you in the morning and share all the meaningful moments in between.”

Tears brim in my eyes because what he’s saying is what I want to hear, but fear makes me tremble inside because it would be so easy to believe him.

I glance out the window so he doesn’t see. Instead of amber waves of grain or whatever fills the center of the country on the way to Nebraska, I spot water. Lots and lots of it.

My hopes sink because this has all been a game, a great deceit. He’s bringing me back to the island. I get Slater PTSD and my stomach lurches and my skin prickles.

“Where are we going?”

“A surprise.”

I fan my face.

“Ella, what’s wrong?”

“Just overheating.”

He adjusts the cooling vent over our heads.

All this time, I figured I’d be going back to the resort at some point, but now that it’s happening, I’m having second thoughts. Island Fever sets in even though we haven’t even touched down yet.

He changed his mind midway to Nebraska. Like an unwanted letter, he’s returning to sender. My wicked stepmother is myself, given the poor choices I’ve made in men.

A hand grips my shoulder, drawing me back in the seat.

“Ella, we’re landing soon,” Jack says.

I nod, unable to face him, but as the plane descends, so do my emotions. Before we say goodbye, I have to tell him my truth.

Finding my voice, I say, “These last few days have been phenomenal. A real bright spot in my life. You’ve been kind and generous and?—”

“Flirty.”

“I understand that we’re not on the same page. That we’re from different worlds. But I’ll never be able to trust myself again if I don’t say this … There have been times when I’ve felt like what’s going on between us means something. I want to be mad at you for putting me in this situation, but to be honest, I bear the responsibility by saying yes. However, I’ve lost track of where being your fake girlfriend ends and real feelings begin. I have to know, at any point, did you feel the tiniest bit of chemistry? Maybe a spark. Please don’t tell me it’s all been in my head. I mean, do tell me because I need to know the truth. But?—”

The airplane touches down with a jolt and we speed toward a stop. Jack already unbuckles his seatbelt and draws me into his arms.

“Ella, Ella, Ella,” he repeats.

I want to melt into him and find refuge, but I can’t give myself over.

Jack leans back and wipes away a tear I didn’t realize I’d shed.

“I know this is goodbye, but was all of it in my imagination?” I ask .

He shakes his head and then nods before pressing his forehead against mine.

I’m practically speaking against his lips when I say, “The last time I did this, I got burned, and not just by the sun.”

Then he presses a kiss to my lips. It’s the sweetest and I’m certain it’s the last one.

I hastily gather my things and then disembark from the plane. He follows me. Probably to warn Yvonne to keep an eye on me so I don’t sleep in a suite or villa.

Her comments about his weekend flings wave like a red flag. Maybe he lengthened the period to a full week. Lucky me. I remind myself that I have a history of being fooled and not to make this into anything it’s not. This is nothing more than an extended fling.

Jack’s hand clasps mine, but instead of going to the resort itself, he leads me to the beach. Oh, right, this is where I live, in a giant sandbox.

Welcome home, Ella.

Bark Wahlburger dashes into the sand, kicking it everywhere before playing chase with the slowly lapping waves. There’s a bunch of red stuff near the waterline. Pink stuff? Maybe an algae bloom? Jellyfish?

“Are the turtles okay?” I rush toward the water’s edge and stop short.

Inside of a massive flower petal heart spelled out with sea shells are the words Will you marry me?

I slouch, wishing I felt happier for whatever lucky couple recently agreed to spend their lives together. When I turn around, Jack is on one knee, holding open a white velvet box.

“Ella, this is for you. I am for you.” His blue-eyed gaze holds mine.

Time slows down. My vision blurs .

The sound of a camera clicking comes from nearby, but I can’t tear my eyes away from Jack.

He says, “Come here.”

My hands fly to my mouth. I need that fainting couch again. “Is this really happening?”

“This is really happening.”

But is it real?

The pearl set in the white gold band and surrounded by diamonds looks as real as they come.

This is extravagant, but I’m guessing Jack staged this so his father, Aston, and new coach would take the bait and believe us. He said himself that he can throw money at anything.

But what about everything else he said?

I guess I was the one who got hooked.

“Ella, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

I stammer, “I’m going to turn into a pumpkin.”

He wears an amused half-smile. “If you lost a glass slipper, I’d never stop searching until I found you. Please be my wife.”

I should know better, but I cannot help myself, and I say yes with my whole heart.

Bark Wahlburger barks as if already pronouncing us husband and wife.

The corners of Jack’s mouth lift and his eyes sparkle. I cup his cheeks and plaster his mouth with kisses. He rises to his feet and then slides the ring on my finger. It’s a perfect fit.

He’d told Aston and his father that we had forgotten the ring at the resort. I can’t sort out stories from the truth. But I don’t want to. Not yet.

My lips press to his, sending a fluttery hum of excitement rushing through me, lighting me up from head to toe. It seems that he rather likes this response, given his pulse throbbing against mine as our chests push together .

The pace turns frenzied until we’re both out of breath. Then we slow, our mouths exploring cheeks, ears, and necks. Our noses brush and we both smile, then laugh. Our foreheads press together. Jack’s hands caress my jaw, keeping us focused on just kisses.

There is so much to this man and I want every inch, always. I never want to leave his strong and generous embrace, but I know that I’ll have to, eventually.

It’s just the story of my life.