Chapter 18

eighteen

ELLA

Holly Everheart is exactly how I pictured her. Minus the overly casual look she’s sporting. A red ribbon fastens her hair back, the ends trailing into the curls of her ponytail. She’s paired an Ever After Farms tee with flared jeans, flip-flops on her feet.

She doesn’t look like she’s practically a billionaire with a record number of singles.

“Did you know she was coming?” she asks Luke. “I only talked to you a couple of days ago.”

“She’s always full of surprises,” he answers, lazily stroking the back of my neck.

I’ve got no idea when he moved his hand, only that every touch sends my nerves dancing straight to my fingertips.

“I don’t want to rush you, Ella. I’m so excited to get started, but you need to get settled. Can we talk some tomorrow? Wait — tomorrow is opening day.”

It’s irrelevant if tomorrow is opening day or anything else of massive importance. There’s no time to waste with a timeline of only two weeks .

“We can meet tomorrow,” I reply.

My thoughts are hazy around the edges, similar to when I’d had to take nighttime cold medicine. His fingers are tracing invisible lines on my bare neck, the lightest touch as he curls and uncurls his fingers against my skin. Goosebumps burst across my skin.

He leans in so he can keep his voice low. “Cold?”

I refuse to answer him, instead stepping into his body so I can draw away some of his heat. The only problem is that now I’m practically drowning in Luke’s scent. Holly is going to think I had too much fun this morning when, really, I’m only intoxicated on Luke.

Focus, Ella.

“It will probably be busy, but we can walk around the farm and you can tell me where you’d like to have the ceremony. And cake. It’s perfect.”

Holly’s smile only grows. “Trying to sneak in every minute with Luke that you can?”

My immediate thought is: yes . I want more quiet moments like this so I can catch up on his history. Right now it’s feeling a little one-sided and I want to hear all of it. The good, the bad, and the ugly. But we both have jobs to do and I’m already teetering on the edge of unprofessional.

Instead I say, “That’s just a bonus. I’m here to make sure you get the wedding of your dreams.”

“I’m marrying Cade.” She does a cute little shimmy. “Everything else is just gravy. I’ve seen your portfolio and honestly, I’d trust you to pull off the wedding of my dreams without either of us being here.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” I let out a nervous laugh.

Luke switches from a light touch to an encouraging knead and I have to swallow a moan. Between job and life stress and my brief nap on the plane, he’s working a kind of magic on the taut muscles there that renders me mute.

“Stop being so modest,” he replies. “You’ve always been talented.”

His words unlock something in me.

I’m used to hearing praise from my clients. My mother-of-the-bride last night couldn’t sing my praises loud enough, and she definitely tried.

But words of encouragement from someone like Luke have an entirely different context. He swung open a door that’s been closed off for years, and there’s no way for me to scramble and slam it back closed.

Like he can read my mind, Luke shifts so he can collect me to his chest. To Holly, I’m sure it just looks like a hug, his burly arms embracing me fully. The effect is like a weighted blanket. The full scope of the last twelve to eighteen hours is settling on my shoulders, and Luke is the embodiment of comfort and safety.

“I promise I’m not trying to be weird, but this family rubbed off on me a little bit. People don’t give group hugs enough credit,” she says as she wraps her arms around both of us.

“I didn’t miss this,” Luke grumbles.

“You totally missed this. I’m the sister you never knew you needed.” Holly snickers.

“Do you forget that I’ve got four sisters already?”

I smile against the fabric of Luke’s shirt. There’s no real hint of anger in his voice. He’s not even that annoyed. He reserves this version of teasing for people he considers family.

“Stop ruining this beautiful moment!” Holly chastises him. “I’m so glad that he found someone to put up with his nonsense.”

Guilt prickles in my chest. This is such a mistake .

“I think there’s something I should?—”

“People already don’t understand our relationship.” Holly continues on like she never heard me. “The press has said for months that it’s a publicity stunt. But when you know, you know? Right?”

I’m not sure I do, which is one reason this idea is dangerous. Patch creeps into my thoughts as I consider what she’s asking. Magic brought us together — and more or less tore us apart — so I don’t have the happy ending she’s assuming I do. Luke and I never evolved beyond a single moment in his family’s patch.

While I’ve held plenty of bride’s hands and had a first row seat to years of romance stories, my personal experience is deeply lacking. This is a perfect opportunity for me to try again, to tell her that while I wish I could relate, I can’t.

There’s no happy ending for me. At least not until this wedding is over, and I can finally get out from under Charlotte’s thumb.

I need this wedding to be successful for that to happen.

This situation is deeply unfair.

“I’ve seen people meet and get married in less than a month,” I reply, sidestepping the opportunity to come clean.

Luke takes a deep inhale and again, I want to know what he’s thinking.

“This is why I’m so happy you two are part of this chaos.” Holly’s voice drops to a quiet level. “You get it. People outside of Enchanted Hollow don’t.”

And there it is. Her need to feel understood is practically a siren call I can’t ignore. I can’t relate on a romantic level, but I know all about Enchanted Hollow.

I’m not a touchy-feely person by nature, but I want her to know that she’s not alone. I pull away from Luke with the arm closest to Holly and wrap it around her. Luke shifts as I bring Holly a little more between us.

“I’m here for you. Whatever you need,” I say.

Our heads lean against each other in this awkward hug we’re still in.

“I know I don’t know you yet, Ella. But I hope the magic of this place gives you peace. You’ve been away for a while—at least that’s what I was told—and I think you could use some of the healing it gave me.” Holly sighs. “I found Enchanted Hollow sort of by accident. I thought it was a myth. Some bedtime tale my parents used to tell me. Coming here and stumbling on Ever After Farms saved my life.”

Her words loosen a knot in my chest.

“Because you found love,” I say.

“So much love.” She chuckles. “And it changed my life.”

I don’t need her to spell it out. Luke’s family never hesitates to embrace anyone who needs it, but his mother knows who needs the extra tender love and care. Another commonality Holly and I have.

“The Jacksons are wonderful people.”

Holly squeezes, then steps away. “They are. And this guy is one of the best. He seems like such a grumpy bear when he’s really a giant softie.”

“You’ll ruin my reputation,” he grumbles. Now that Holly is a few feet away, he wraps both arms back around me like they’re a sort of shield. I don’t hate it.

“The secret is out, Luke. Everyone knows that you’re a teddy bear. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ella!”

There’s a crunch on gravel as she heads back to her vehicle. When I hear her back out of the driveway and pull onto the road, I should take this as my cue to step away from Luke and put distance between us. But I want to stay like this.

“When was the last time you ate?” he asks .

I shrug. My cheek presses against the fabric of his shirt, the mix of laundry detergent and farm a strangely comforting blend.

“Alright. Food is now the chief priority. You ready?”

“Can I have just a second?” I need to step away from him so I can think.

The look on his face is a mixture of emotions, like he’s battling his insides too. I wish I was brave enough to ask what he’s thinking, but that’s a conversation we need to have when I’m rested.

He steps away from me until we’re somehow only connected by our pinkies and pauses. I hadn’t realized we’d never stopped holding hands. Then he’s gone, walking back to the truck to give me my space.

I take in my parent’s property one more time.

The dirt drive is clean and taken care of, suggesting someone lives here now. Though from what I can tell, there’s no sign of life. My mom kept hanging pots bursting with flowers hanging from hooks in the eaves of the wraparound porch. There’s no evidence they ever existed aside from what’s physically still present.

Because this is exactly what I’ve fought so hard for, I squeeze my eyes closed to remind myself of what it used to be. Pumpkins from Ever After Farms tumbling down the steps, digging into giant pots to plant oversized mums, wrapping myself in fabric in the living room–twisting and twirling–while the sewing machine hummed from my mom’s craft area. She always made our Halloween costumes.

If I let my mind wander, I can see the scene shift to one in the future. Only instead of my mother, it’s me making costumes. Luke is laughing with kids in the front yard as he pushes them on a giant tire swing in the massive red oak. There’s a simmer pot on the stove filling the house with fall spices and we’ll soon be heading next door for our weekly family dinner.

It’s so real it hurts.

It’s the lack of sleep.

Or maybe it’s finally standing here. It could be the way Luke looked at me, and easily stripped away the mask I’ve worn for so long.

But I’ve only been here a few hours and the professional demeanor I’ve crafted for years is falling away in chunks. All my rules are flying out the window.

Maybe that’s my problem. My rules only seem to keep digging me deeper. For almost half my life, I’ve done what she asks, only for her to always be one step ahead of me.

One cruel, manipulative step ahead.

“Don’t you ever break the rules?”

Luke’s question has haunted me over the years. Maybe I need to try it out. Or make news ones. I’m not sure anymore.

Charlotte never paid enough attention to see me for who I am, but apparently, Luke did. He’s paid more attention over the years than I ever gave him credit for. I know he’s already balancing an impossible plate with Autumn Enchantment. This wedding will only complicate things.

And this little ruse we’re stepping into won’t help either.

I’m not this person. I don’t lie; I don’t play games.

The closest I’ve ever come to lying was the night I left, with the magical transformation that masked who I really was. I suppose choosing to agree to Charlotte’s ‘offer’ is a type of game. But there’s a distinction.

Charlotte is playing a game of power, and her intention is to win.

I’m playing to survive. I won’t lose a piece of my family that’s belonged to us for generations. Or the farm that’s belonged to his .

Accepting this wedding in the wee hours of the morning after a full workday was questionable. My state of exhaustion hasn’t improved by much, and here I am making another off-brand decision.

But I’m so tired of worrying. I’m just tired. In every sense.

The fine print of the final contract I signed only said I had to pull this off. The goal is always to deliver the wedding of the bride’s dreams—so that’s what I’m doing. I’m playing into her fantasy and giving myself a little gift as well.

I’ll probably regret it later.

But right now, I want to pretend this land is mine. This man is mine. I have everything I’ve ever dreamed of.

I’m more than a little orphan farm girl or second-rate Ella or a patchwork princess.

Like Holly, I deserve a new story.