Chapter 35

thirty-five

ELLA

Now that the list is out of the way, I want to continue being a little brave. There’s a lot of work I’m used to doing alone until it’s time to meet with the bride or a vendor. I’ve gotten used to it.

But, I want Luke’s opinion.

Something inside yearns to hear what he thinks about the ideas I’ve stayed up late coming up with. It’s not just because he knows Holly, although that helps. I’m not entirely sure I want to give up this piece of myself when I start new.

I don’t think I want to only focus on weddings, because there’s a special magic in pulling together an event from thin air. Any event. Town events, birthdays, whatever the wind blows in.

Just like there’s something magical about capturing those memories with a camera.

I want flexibility and the ability to step outside the box, and Holly is the first bride that is giving me the freedom to see what that feels like.

“Can I run a couple of things by you? ”

I’m prepared for him to say no. That he’s got his hands full already, and he needs to go back to the farm.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about what you’re always doing with that thing.” He gestures to my tablet, the crinkles around his eyes winking to life as he smiles at me. “Show me.”

Back in Colorado, this piece of technology was my lifeline. It almost feels like showing your crush a diary entry you wrote about him. My ideas are a piece of me.

His urging unfurls some of my stress about meeting with Holly this afternoon. She’s been wonderful, so I’m not all that worried about what she will think. I just want to give her the wedding she deserves.

With no interference, no hiccups, no problems.

I’m a little more worried about the way I’m giving Charlotte the bare minimum of what she’s asking for. It’s obvious she wants something on a grander scale than Holly does, and it’s resulted in quite a few angry voice messages and emails.

I want Luke to tell me I’m on the right track. That the risk I’m taking is worth the reward. I’ve only ever gone against Charlotte once, and I need to be sure this time if I continue down this path.

She’s not one to be reckoned with.

“You don’t need to get back to the farm?”

He stands and walks the few steps around the booth and scoots in beside me. I love that he doesn’t ask. He somehow just knows I need him beside me.

Luke lays his hand across mine. “I’m exactly where I want to be right now.”

“Me too.” I smile, then bring the tablet to life.

I bring up a collage I created of a bunch of images I found. It’s probably not the most professional way to present something, but I’m visual and it lets me see what I’m trying to create.

There’s a photo I took of the pond when I was last at the farm as the base, the mature trees towering over the water. I superimposed a photo of a wedding arch draped with sheer fabric and covered with flowers in teal, orange, and burgundy, the place where Holly and Cade will exchange their vows.

“Violet would love this,” he murmurs, using his fingers to zoom in as he maneuvers around the image. “You’ve paid so much attention to detail here.”

There are images of fairy lights hung between trees where the small crowd would sit, hanging lights from the branches directly over the arch area. Photos of chairs from previous weddings carefully placed to mimic seating arrangement, wooden stumps on the ends creating boundaries for a short aisle for Holly to walk down. And of course pumpkins, everywhere.

“This is one of my favorites.” I swipe to another photo showing ideas for a reception area. A long table like the one behind the Jackson’s home, with mason jars strung above it and little battery lit lights shoved inside. More wood accents, more flowers. Pops of brushed and antique gold, greenery, and pampas.

It’s all earthy and vintage with woodland charm.

“Are these cinnamon stick place cards?” He zooms in and glances at me sideways.

“They’re cute.” I shrug. “And you can put them in your apple cider.”

“Fun and functional.”

“Exactly.”

“What’s this mirror?”

There’s a giant ornate mirror “propped” against a tree trunk, with w elcome to our happily ever after scrawled across it in a handwriting font I used.

“Just a fun decoration. I’ll have to find one in an antique shop, I guess?” My chest constricts. “Or I can delete it, if you think it’s dumb.”

Luke sets the tablet back on the table and shifts into the small space to give me his full attention. He’s always doing this, like he wants to be clear that I’m the one thing his focus is on. I’m not used to this either.

Charlotte only looks at me when she wants to drive a point home and intimidate me. I hate that I compare them when there is no comparison. He’s nothing like the person who was forced to be my guardian, and who robbed me of my life here in Enchanted Hollow.

“Don’t do that, Ella.”

“It’ll probably be hard to find,” I say.

“We can check The Enchanted Hollow Exchange, or Pixie Dust Picks. Troll Bridge Treasures — Rosie found a great vintage typewriter there once. Maybe one of the girls at Fairest of the All would let you borrow a mirror.” He’s ticking off a list again, stepping in once again to solve a problem before I even ask.

I swallow. “Is there anything you’d change? Should I start over? Holly is being very open-ended about this and I want to make sure I get it right.”

“I think Holly will love this. I honestly don’t understand how, since it’s not even an actual photo yet, but it feels like her.”

“You really think so?” I can’t stop the smile from fighting to burst free.

“I’ve always told you that you’re talented. Maybe you’ll listen when Holly tells you.”

“I’m listening to you,” I say. “I’m trying. ”

“Good. Now go knock this meeting out of the park.” He presses a kiss to my temple, setting every nerve ending there on fire.

Neither of us move for a moment. I don’t have an explanation for what just happened, other than it was completely unexpected. Luke is still close, his lips still brushing my hair.

“You can come, too. If you want,” I whisper.

“It’s probably better if you go,” he says, his voice like gravel. “Just you.”

“Mm hmm.”

I wish I knew what to do with my hands. Or my face. My head. Anything.

Luke finally breaks the moment when he moves, scooting out of the booth. He stands at the end of the table and raps his knuckles, once. Then twice.

“Will you let me know how it goes?” His gaze is soft and filled with emotions I can’t decipher.

“Of course.”

He stares at me for a couple more beats before he leaves. The noise level was almost at a muted level before, and it comes roaring back like someone unpaused the soundtrack. Eyes all shift from our booth back to their company, the menus, out a window.

Well. That certainly won’t help the rumor mill.