Chapter 20

twenty

ELLA

“We need rules.”

“Rules?” He cocks an eyebrow as he watches me.

“Yes. Rules. You’ve heard of them, right?” I snag a smoked brisket nacho and take a very unladylike bite out of it. Between the sweet and tangy barbeque sauce and the smoked meat, I’m in heaven right now.

Luke fishes his own nacho out of the pile and leans back in his chair, looking way too attractive for his own good. He’s leaning with an elbow on the arm of the chair, one long leg stretched out in front of him and the other planted on the floor. As soon as we sat, he tossed his cowboy hat into an empty seat at our table so his hair is a bit disheveled from wearing it.

I’ve had to talk myself out of digging my fingers through it a handful of times already. There’s something wrong with me.

Eager for a distraction, I glance around The Grotto. We’re on the patio overlooking the lake, the atmosphere a cozy blend of worn wood and dark metals. From the first step inside to out here, there are splashes of blue and green, with rope accents and macrame to add texture.

I really want to know the trick to the lights that seem to float out here. There are string lights around the perimeter of the roof, but I can’t figure out what’s connecting the others.

“They’re not attached to anything,” Luke says, interrupting my analysis.

“No fishing line?”

“Remember where you are.” He takes another nacho.

Oh, right.

In the beginning, I missed the magic so much I could hardly breathe. I was so used to it being an everyday part of my life that nothing felt normal without it. The transition to coming back is almost effortless, at least physically. My mind just has to catch up.

“I don’t sense any fairies,” I say. “They’re usually right in the heart of things. Shouldn’t one have stopped by already to play a little matchmaking?”

“Do you want to be matched up with somebody?”

It feels like an innocent question, but it’s not. Laila would happily volunteer me as tribute. She’d likely stand up and whistle them over to the table, while asking if there’s a questionnaire she can fill out for me. I’ve never considered that they’d need one, but I wasn’t quite to the age where they were determined to find me a love story the last time I was here.

“Not really.” I say. “Which brings me back to the rules.”

A whole list of them, since I seem to need a playbook while I’m here.

No falling for your best friend’s brother.

No volunteering said best friend’s brother to be a fake boyfriend.

Oh wait, too late. There’s still hope for avoiding the first one if we have boundaries. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.

“Rules for what, Ella?”

“Dating.”

The side of his mouth hitches up in a smile, and the effect is devastating. I could make a list of things I find attractive about Luke—hence the fumbling around over forearms and facial hair earlier—but his smile has always topped the list. Every time he shares one, I’m a little closer to losing the battle to not fall for him.

“ Fake dating!” I correct myself. “Fake.”

“We’re two consenting adults. You don’t think we can manage?”

I shake my head. “No. I can’t afford to mess this up.”

Right on cue, my phone lights up with Charlotte’s information. I suppose that’s a way to redirect my thoughts.

“Do you need to get that?”

Do I want to get it? No. Do I need to? Probably. Holly said she wouldn’t say anything, but maybe Charlotte is calling to ask me if I’ve lost my mind. And cancel our agreement. Or it could be as simple as the fact that I haven’t checked in with her again since right before my almost wreck.

It really has been a long day.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.” My stomach churns as I make my way toward the front of the restaurant, and I don’t think it’s the brisket. I finally answer when I’m only steps away from the sidewalk out front.

“Ella, I shouldn’t have to be the one to reach out regarding updates.”

If she knew about Luke, the first words out of her mouth would be more shrill and threatening. So I guess there’s that.

“Then please trust me to provide them when I actually have some to give you. ”

Silence stretches between us, and I wonder if I’ve said too much. There’s a sense of relief at not sugar coating my feelings. I’ve earned her trust, whether or not she wants to give it to me.

“Ella Taylor. Do not forget who you’re speaking to.”

Like she’d ever let me.

I ignore her and move forward with the coordinator talk.

“I’ll be at the farm tomorrow to walk through the property with Holly.”

“I thought I told you to go back and handle the farm today.”

I’ve been questioning if I’m making the right choice with Luke. If the consequences of getting caught are worth the risk. But as I stand here, I realize there might never be an end to this if I don’t take a risk.

“You also said you expected an update by tomorrow evening. It’s still today. I asked for time to get reacquainted with the town and the farm, and that’s what I’m doing.”

I smile at people walking by, reminding myself that it’s not going to make a great impression if I’m screaming into my phone in front of a restaurant.

“I expect the vendor list by morning, Ella.”

She’s being unreasonable. We both know it. Just like we both know, it’s a matter of who will give first. But it won’t be me. Not this time.

“You’ll have it in your inbox.”

“Surely you’re tired from the last twenty-four hours,” she says. Her tone suggests I’ve taken on too much, and I straighten my back. She can’t see me, but it makes me feel better.

“I can handle it.”

If I can’t get an espresso when we leave dinner, I’ll ask Luke to take me to the store. If there’s a will, there’s a way. I can sleep when I’m dead .

“See that you do. I don’t need to remind you that this is a high-profile wedding and there’s no room for mistakes.”

My jaws squeeze together as I fight the urge to scream. This is a test she’s sure I’ll fail. She never intended for me to get my parents’ farm back. It’s just another way for her to exercise her power and influence.

But she won’t best me this time.

“Holly is a dream client. She’s making this process easy.”

I don’t like this version of myself. Especially now that I’m here back in my hometown. It’s like I’ve shucked on a coat that’s a little too small and in the wrong season. Stiff and out of place.

“But only a dream wedding professional can pull off the perfect wedding. Anything short of that and our deal is off.”

I lower my voice. “I don’t intend on falling short on my end of the deal. You’ll get an update in your email. I have to finish my dinner.”

Before I lose the sliver of bravery sliding through my fingers, I press ‘end’ on the call. I’m disappointed this dress doesn’t have pockets, so I could shove my phone away where I can’t see it. Plus, all dresses should have pockets, anyway. They’re useful and fun. Instead, I have to clutch it as I walk back across the restaurant, stopping only to grab a menu from the to-go area.

Luke’s chair scratches the concrete as he pushes back to stand up, but I ignore his impeccable manners as I slide into my seat. If I wasn’t so mad about Charlotte, I’d probably swoon. To give myself an extra few seconds to school my face back into a calm demeanor, I bend down to find something to write with. We dropped my things off at the bed-and-breakfast, but I pulled a tote out of my luggage and tossed a few things in it. Just in case .

I reach for my bag of pens and post-it’s, then decide maybe the iPad is best.

“Is everything okay?” he asks as I right myself and flip open the cover of my tablet.

Luke needs to know about what’s at stake sooner rather than later. If I’m going to expect him to play along with this charade, he deserves that from me. He’s seen what Charlotte is capable of, so it’s not that I doubt his ability to handle it. I just want to work through some of my own feelings first.

“You have an email, right? I can send over a copy when we’re done.”

“Ella.” His voice is low and dare I say a bit growly, making me jump at the proximity. In the last few seconds, he moved from his seat to beside me, his mouth now only a few feet from my ear.

I only thought my pulse was going to calm down from its current sprint. But now it’s shifted pace from an agitated frenzy to a flustered one.

“We can talk about this with you over there,” I squeak out.

I tell myself it’s not a big deal that he’s crouched beside me, actually close enough that I could rake my fingers through his chestnut waves. They’re only there when it’s a little humid. Not that I’ve paid much attention.

Unfortunately, I’m a liar. It’s a very big deal.

“Why? Do I make you nervous?”

So incredibly nervous. I’m questioning if this is what heart palpitations feel like. Hopefully, the town doctor is eating out here on the patio as well, so when I need medical attention, he can help.

“No. But people are looking.”

He’s unfazed. “Anyone that looks over here will think that I’m just checking on my girlfriend. ”

As if he’s proving his point, he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. I’m hyper aware of every single place he makes contact and have to remind myself that breathing isn’t optional.

I’m his fake girlfriend. But Luke didn’t use that term. If someone came up to me right now and asked if that bothered me, I’d fail the lie detector test on the spot. I’ve only dreamed of being his anything for years.

“First rule: we need to be fully platonic when we’re in public.”

He hums thoughtfully. “What if we’re with Holly in public?”

“Then, obviously, we can be not platonic.”

That’s not even a word! Or a phrase.

No one is ever going to take me seriously about anything if I’m always going to be this out of sorts around Luke.

“My question still stands, Ella. Do we need to talk about that phone call?”

I want to. But I’ve already dragged Luke in further than I should have. We need to regroup, so when I meet with Holly in the morning, I’m the professional she’s expecting.

“Rule two: this needs to interfere with your job on the farm as little as possible.”

He stands and I think he’s going to head to his spot on the other side of the table, but he sits in the chair beside me instead. There’s nothing but the sound of the lake and the crowd eating around us as he moves plates around so that he’s completely changed seats. To sit directly beside me, instead of across from me.

It’s a new boyfriend move.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were deflecting.” He scoops a spoonful of street corn off his plate and shoves it into his mouth.

Watching people eat should be gross. All that chewing and noise. But somehow Luke is still keeping his appeal as he does it.

“Not deflecting,” I reply, diverting my attention back to my iPad. “Rule three: after today, we should probably avoid being alone. Together. Like this.”

I peek over the top of my tablet and he’s paused his eating, his gaze shifting from humor to something heavier.

“No. I reject that rule.”

“What?” I ask, startled.

“We’ve known each other our whole lives, Ella. If you’re hungry, I’m going to feed you. If you need to have someone sit with you just to have company, I’ll be there. I’m not going to arrange for a chaperone just to treat you how I’ve always treated you.”

He’s right. He’s so right.

Charlotte is in my head and this is absolutely a mess of my making.

“This was a terrible idea. We should just come clean to Holly—it’s not too late.” But I don’t know Holly and if she goes to Charlotte with this, I’ve lost. This is exactly why I don’t play games. I’m honest to a fault, but I’m also just no good at them. There’s too many moves and twists and I’m more of a straight-lined gal.

“Ella.”

There’s so much more jam-packed into the way he says my name than just asking for my attention. He’s always had a way of doing that. How?

“What?”

“Let’s amend it if that needs to be a rule for you.” He’s patient as he watches me. “If you’re uncomfortable being alone with me, that’s one thing. If you’re uncomfortable being alone with me in public, that’s another. ”

My heart clenches. “I’m not uncomfortable alone with you, Luke.”

Even with the tidal wave of emotions that’s been a continuous ebb and flow all day, he’s always been my safe space. Even when I surprised him this morning, he still felt like home.

“So, just in public, then?” He arches an eyebrow and I have to laugh.

“We asked Holly to keep things quiet. This”—I wave a hand between us—“will send the rumor mill spinning wild.”

“Or the phone tree,” he grumbles. “I didn’t think about that.”

“There’s a phone tree?” I’m equally horrified and intrigued. “Like in Practical Magic? Or Bye Bye Birdie?”

“Your pop culture knowledge never ceases to amaze me.” He lifts a slice of jalapeno cheddar cornbread off the mini cast-iron skillet and puts it on his plate. “What other rules do you think we need?”

My brain could auto-populate a list that would make him cringe if I let it. But there’s one subject that’s unavoidable.

“What about your family?”

They’ve always felt like my family, and they’re not people I want to lie to. This is why it’s bad to make decisions after two in the morning. Those decisions spill into new ones, like a line of dominoes. The design ends with a wedding. I can choose to make it a chaotic process, or we can continue with boundaries that will make the topple more controlled.

Or we can try.

“My family will roll with whatever needs to happen. You know that.” Again. He’s infusing a whole other conversation into only a few words. I’m acutely aware of what his family would do for me, and I feel guilty that I’m already involving them in something that feels unnecessary in the scheme of things .

But there’s one person I forgot to worry about. She didn’t exist before.

“What about Lucy?”

Something flickers in his eyes.

“No fake relationship at any time that we are around Lucy. Rule four. Write that down.” He pauses. “I won’t lie to her.”

If my heart hadn’t at least partially belonged to Luke years ago, it does now. There’s no taking it back as all traces of the joking flirt that existed only moments before disappear. I was too young to really think about Luke as a father back then, but it’s no surprise how protective he is.

“I’d never ask you to,” I reply quietly. “This is such a terrible idea. The more we talk about this, the more I realize how many people this will involve and I’m sorry. I should’ve just corrected Holly.”

“Why?” he counters. He puts down his fork and leans forward, his elbows on his knees. Right back into my space. “I told myself I wasn’t going to ask. Not yet. I wanted to give you time. It’s been a pretty wild day so far.”

“That’s an understatement.”

He nods, then leans forward and takes one of my hands in his. “Holly isn’t here. Is this okay?”

“You don’t have to ask to be kind, Luke.”

“Don’t want to be breaking any of your rules.” The corner of his mouth kicks up in a smile and smoothes down some of the panic.

We’ve circled back around to the conversation in his truck without even meaning to. If I’m going to beat Charlotte—finally—I’ve got to stop handling so much on my own. But it’s terrifying. The one time that I actually told someone what she’d done, she upended my life.

“You’re not going to like it,” I reply.

“That’s a given where Charlotte is concerned. ”

I take a deep breath and steel myself. “Will you settle for the short version?”

“You can tell me the long version later.”

We really are picking up exactly where we left off.

“This is my last wedding working for Charlotte. I should be done, but she sprung this on me at the last minute. Literally at an obscene hour this morning. And if I execute the perfect wedding, I get my parents’ farm.”

Several emotions slide across his face as he processes. I recognize a few as they appear: anger, sadness, grief. I’ve felt all those things too.

It was hard enough to leave over a decade ago. And now it’s one more thing. Will it ever stop being one more thing ? That question has plagued me since I signed the paper, even if I haven’t let myself focus on it.

So long as I play her game, she won’t see a need to end it.

“I’m all in, Ella.”

“What?” I blink, because I fully expected questions. Unending questions and judgement if I’m being honest. Or an angry outburst. Not a calm version of Luke that’s unwavering in his commitment to this insanity.

“I’m whoever you need me to be, Ella. Doting boyfriend, secret husband, whatever.”

“Secret husband?”

The thought has never once occurred to me, but now my brain won’t unlatch itself from the idea.

“I know about all the tropes. They’re permanently ingrained up here.” He lifts a hand to tap his temple and winks.

He winks.

“I think boyfriend will be just fine,” I reply, a little too fast.

The lines have always been blurry with Luke and I’m making them even blurrier my first day back. I just need to remember that it’s all fake.

Just because we haven’t used that term once, this whole conversation, doesn’t change that.

Rule five: don’t fall for your fake boyfriend.