7. Felicity

felicity

. . .

“It’s true ?” Winnie’s voice rose to a fever pitch.

“Yes.” I sat on the edge of the bed I’d slept in and tested out the words. “It’s true. Hutton and I are engaged. I’m moving in with him.”

“I can’t believe it! Why didn’t you say something yesterday? I’m freaking out!”

“Sorry. I wanted to, but Hutton and I had agreed to keep it quiet for a while. You know how he is.” I bit my lip, feeling guilty for lying to my sister. But Hutton had come to my rescue last night, and he’d asked me for this favor—I could come through for him.

“I remember him being quiet and shy, yes, but I didn’t realize you two were a thing . You always swore there was nothing there! The words ‘just friends’ have come out of your mouth a million times! You were like a broken record.”

“It was true,” I said defensively. “Right up until recently. When he came back to town this summer, we realized we had feelings for each other we’d never admitted to.”

“God, we are so different. I’d have tattooed his name on my body by now.”

I laughed. “Probably.”

“You know everyone saw it except you two.” Now her tone was smug.

“Yes, well, now we do.” Leaning sideways, I attempted to peek across the hall into Hutton’s bedroom, where he was changing into workout clothes, but he’d shut the door.

“This is so amazing. But you know me—I’m going to need every single, solitary detail, and I’m going to need them now.”

“I don’t have time right now, but I’ll tell you at dinner tonight. Hutton and I are hosting everyone here, and I’m going to cook.”

At first when I’d asked Hutton if we could invite my family for dinner, he’d gone pale—it wasn’t that he didn’t like my family, but we’d just gotten rid of his family, and this would be a lot of peopling in one day. But I’d talked him into it, promising we’d get our story one hundred percent straight before they arrived and that he would not be left alone to make small talk with anyone. Also, I told him it would be much better to get the news out to everyone all at once rather than have to go through it multiple times.

“Are Mom and Dad coming?” Winnie asked.

“Yes. I just talked to Mom.”

“Did she cry?”

“Yep,” I confirmed, pangs of guilt hitting me again. “Burst into tears the minute she answered the phone, but she’s happy. She’s at work and the bakery is super busy, but she made me promise to tell her everything the moment she gets here.”

“I can’t wait until dinnertime,” Winnie wailed. “Can’t you tell me sooner?”

“I really can’t,” I said. It was the truth—Hutton and I still had to get the story straight. “But I promise it will be worth the wait. I’ll text you Hutton’s address and you can come around four.”

Winnie sighed heavily. “Fine. But call Mills right now, okay? She’s losing her mind.”

I bit my lip. Millie was the one person I was worried about—she had an innate bullshit detector, and she knew me better than anyone on the planet. “I will.”

“God. You’re getting married, Lissy. Married .” She was choked up. “I can’t believe it.”

“Me neither.”

“I’m so happy for you. How awesome to fall in love with a friend. And how sweet that you two have been friends since, what, high school?”

“Middle school,” I said. “He moved in the middle of seventh grade.” I could still see him standing in the doorway of Mr. Krenshaw’s honors math class, the guidance counselor’s hand on his shoulder as she introduced him. He stared at the floor the entire time, his floppy hair covering the top of his face.

The only empty seat in the room was next to me, and when Mr. Krenshaw pointed him in my direction, he looked right at me, and the first thing I thought was that he had the clearest blue eyes I’d ever seen. There was something so gentle in them, and I instantly knew he wasn’t a jerk like other middle school boys. I had the sense he might not fit in easily, so when I saw him alone at lunch, I invited him to sit with me. He didn’t say much, but he sat next to me at the table that day...and just about every day afterward.

“But we weren’t super close right away,” I said. “That took time.”

Winnie laughed. “Yes, you guys have been very good at taking your time—until now. Suddenly everything is lightning fast. Are you really getting married next month?”

“Um, hopefully. I still need to talk to Millie. See if it’s doable.”

“Well, if it’s not doable at Cloverleigh, let’s talk about Abelard,” she said. Winnie was the wedding coordinator there. “I totally understand wanting to have it at Cloverleigh Farms, but if you can’t get a date at such late notice, I might be able to help you out, especially if you can wait until September.”

“Hutton will be gone by then,” I said without thinking.

“Gone? What do you mean? Does that mean you’re moving too? What about your catering business?”

My legs started to bounce nervously. “Not sure of anything yet, but Hutton only has this house for about another month. Where we’ll live is one of the decisions we’ll have to make.”

“I saw that your follower count exploded.”

“So did my DMs. Clearly getting engaged to a public figure helps your influencer status. I’m suddenly inundated with requests to collaborate.”

“That’s so exciting!”

“I have a bunch of new messages in my Dearly Beloved inbox too,” I told her, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. “I haven’t even looked at them yet. Anyway, I have to go, but I’ll see you here at four. Feel free to bring Dex and the girls if you want.”

“Will all of Hutton’s family be there too?”

“No. We saw them for brunch this morning. It’s just the MacAllisters tonight.”

“Pretty soon, your name won’t be MacAllister anymore. You’ll be Felicity French! If you change your name, I mean.” Then she sighed. “I’d like to be Winnie Matthews someday. You’re so lucky.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

We hung up and I sat there for a moment, unable to help the smile that crept onto my lips.

Felicity French sounded fucking awesome.

While Hutton worked out, I ran over to the reunion venue to pick up the platters I’d left there last night, and then home to pack. I was glad—for selfish reasons—that the house was empty. I wasn’t ready to answer detailed questions yet.

Dragging my suitcase out from under the bed, I emptied some dresser drawers into it, added a few things from my closet and a couple pairs of shoes, then shoved my makeup bag, hair products, and some random other toiletries into an overnight bag. It wasn’t everything, but it would get me through one month. After slinging my laptop case over my shoulder, I lugged everything downstairs.

But as I was struggling to get out the front door, I encountered Millie on the porch.

She stuck her hands on her hips. “Running away?”

It felt like I’d been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. “I was going to call you.”

“And say what?”

“Um, that I’m engaged to Hutton?” It came out as a question and Millie burst out laughing. “What’s so funny?” I demanded.

“You’re not really engaged to Hutton,” she said, shaking her head. “There is no way you’ve been secretly dating him for a month. I talk to you every day. I see you all the time. I just asked you about him yesterday. Now tell me the truth.”

I shifted my weight nervously from foot to foot. “The truth is...complicated.”

“Good thing I’m smart.”

“And it’s a long story.”

“Good thing I’ve got time.”

Unable to look her in the eye, I glanced around. It had stopped raining, and the sun was bright. Puddles were evaporating. Sidewalks were drying out. Birds tweeted. An airplane droned overhead.

Millie began tapping her foot.

“The thing is...”I hedged, and for possibly the first time in my life, I couldn’t find any random thing to blurt. Maybe because I knew my big sister wouldn’t accept the usual deflection. Exhaling, I gave up. “The thing is, I opened my big mouth at the reunion last night when Mimi Pepper-Peabody-soon-to-be-Van Pelt cornered me and made me feel bad about myself, and I said I was engaged to Hutton.”

Millie’s jaw dropped. “Oh, shit.”

“Then I hid in a coat closet and begged him to come to the reunion and pretend it was true.”

“And he did?”

I nodded. “He showed up in a suit and tie just like I asked and stood there while I said a bunch of ridiculous things to Mimi and her fiancé about our wedding, including the fact that it’s taking place at Cloverleigh Farms at the end of August.”

“I know. I read about it on dirty-little-scoop-dot-com.”

“You read that tabloid crap?”

She shrugged. “I can’t help it. I’m addicted to celebrity gossip.”

I fidgeted, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t know how it all got out so quickly. It was just supposed to be a fun game for the night, a way to get back at Mimi for being such a twat-waffle. I told her not to say anything.”

“Well, it’s out there now. Somehow it—” Millie stopped. “Wait, did you say Van Pelt? Is that Mimi’s fiancé’s last name?”

“Yeah. He has a funny name.” I thought for a second. “Thornton! Thornton Van Pelt.”

“That’s how it got out,” Millie said. “The Van Pelts own a media conglomerate—websites, cable networks, newspapers, social media, online tabloids. I bet they own Dirty Little Scoop. Basically, you told the worst possible people your secret.”

“Shit.” My shoulders slumped, and my overnight bag slipped to the ground. “I had no idea.”

Millie bent down and picked up my bag. “So that explains why you’re a viral news sensation today. But the question is, why aren’t you denying it? Why not just say it was a joke? Because Frannie and Dad and Winnie all think this is a real thing.”

“Did you tell them it wasn’t?” I asked, my voice catching with fear.

“No. I didn’t want to say anything until I talked to you.” She glared at me and hooked my bag over my shoulder again. “But you were ignoring all my attempts to reach out, so I had to hunt you down like a fugitive. Now what is up? Why didn’t you tell Frannie and Dad the truth?”

“Because Hutton asked me not to.”

Millie’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“I can explain, but I want to get off the porch before I run into them. Can we go for coffee somewhere?”

“We can,” said Millie, “but you might run into a lot of people pointing and whispering. This is a small town without much else to talk about, and you guys just set it on fire.”

“You’re right. Okay, let’s go to your house.”

I followed Millie to her house, and we sat at her kitchen table with glasses of iced tea. Millie’s house wasn’t as big or fancy as Hutton’s, but I’d always loved its cozy vibe, complete with white picket fence, covered front porch, and arched interior doorways. She had beautiful taste too—the hardwood floors and molding were stained a deep, rich brown, the walls were light and neutral, and her furniture was vibrant and colorful.

Her two cats, Muffin and Molasses, came into the kitchen, and Muffin jumped into my lap. I stroked her as I told Millie about the reunion, the evening at Hutton’s house, and the hushed conversation he and I’d had behind his closed bedroom door while his ecstatic family—including the Clipper Cuts—made a celebratory breakfast.

“So wait...” She held up a hand. “You spent the night in separate rooms? Nothing happened?”

“Nothing happened, but...” I squirmed in my chair. “I sort of wanted it to.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Keep going.”

“I don’t know, something just seems different between us.”

“All summer? Or starting last night?”

“Maybe it’s been all summer. It’s hard to say—I feel close to him, which is kind of crazy since we went a long time without seeing each other. But when he moved back and we started hanging out again, it was like no time had passed at all—and also like there was some new layer there.”

“Sexual tension?” she prompted, a gleam in her eye.

My eyes dropped to Muffin’s soft gray fur. “Yeah. But it’s scary to think about crossing that line.”

“That’s understandable. You’ve been friends for so long, it’s harder than crossing the line with a stranger.” She took a sip of her tea.

I pushed my glasses up my nose. “And what if I’m wrong? What if he isn’t into me that way? What if he really was knocking on my bedroom door to ask if I was thirsty?”

“Wait.” Millie set her glass back on the table with a thump. “He knocked on your bedroom door after you guys had gone to bed last night?”

“Yeah.” My face warmed. “Without a shirt on.”

“He’s into you that way,” she said confidently.

“Also, he kissed me this morning,” I confessed, a smile tugging at my lips.

“Oh?” Her eyebrows arched.

“It was just for show—his sister was taking pictures—but it was nice. Right after that was when he dragged me into the bedroom to say we should keep up the ruse so his mom and everyone else in town will stop bugging him about being single. He needs peace and quiet to work.” I told her about the Congressional hearing. “He’s really nervous about it.”

“I don’t blame him. That would be scary for anyone, but especially for someone with anxiety.” Millie tapped her chin. “So the plan is to keep up the charade until he leaves for D.C.?”

“I think so. We haven’t really discussed the ending yet.”

“But you’re not actually going to plan a wedding, are you?”

I glanced out her kitchen window. “I’m not sure. But I am moving in with him.”

“You’re moving in with him ?” Her eyes bulged.

“Yes. He suggested it this morning, to make it look more real...right after I suggested we practice kissing.”

She gasped. “This is nuts, Felicity.”

“But it could be kind of fun, you know?”

“Lying to everyone?”

“Not that part, but—the moving in and the practice kissing and the make-believe at being in love and even the fake planning a wedding. I mean, what if I never do any of that for real?” I asked, growing flustered. “I’m not like you and Winnie. I’ve never had guys knocking down my door. I’ve had like three boyfriends ever, and none of them lasted more than a few months.”

“That’s because you break up with anyone that says ‘I love you.’”

“We’re not talking about the past,” I said quickly.

“ You brought it up.”

“What if it never happens for me, Millie? What if it never feels right? Why shouldn’t I get a chance to experience what it’s like?” I’d gotten so worked up that Muffin was spooked—she jumped off my lap and ran away.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” Millie said gently. “As long as you’re sure this isn’t going to end badly, I’ll go along with it.”

“You have to.” I begged her with my eyes. “You can’t tell anyone it’s not real. Please. Just let us have this for a month.”

She crossed her heart, locked her lips, and tossed the invisible key over her shoulder. “I won’t say a word. Especially because I think it is real—part of it, anyway.”

“It’s not real.” I sat up taller in my chair and leveled her with a gaze. “It’s pretend and it’s temporary and we’re just having a good time. Now are you coming for dinner? I’m cooking at Hutton’s house—I mean, our house.”

“I wouldn’t miss it. I just hope I remember my lines.”

“All you have to do is say you’re going to help me plan a small wedding at the end of August. That’s it.”

“Doesn’t give those bangs much time to grow out,” she teased.

I glared at her and touched my forehead. “Not funny.”

“It’s actually not as bad as the photo you sent,” she said. “I’m pretty sure you’ve done worse.”

“Thanks.” I paused. “I think.”

When I pulled up at Hutton’s—now home —I wasn’t sure if I should knock or just try the door. I was still standing on the front step debating when he pulled it open. He’d cleaned up after his workout, and his hair was a little damp. “Was it locked?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I didn’t just want to come in. I was going to knock.”

“Felicity, you live here now. You don’t have to knock. I’ll get you a key.” He reached for my suitcase and glanced at my car. “Can I help you with bags?”

“This is it,” I said, stepping inside. “I didn’t pack up everything, since this is, you know, short-term.”

He shut the door behind me. “Did you run into anyone at home?”

“Yes. Millie.” I sighed. “And I have to confess something.”

“What?”

“She knows the truth.”

His eyebrows rose. “She does?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. She just knows me really well, and she can smell bullshit a mile away. I couldn’t keep up the act. But don’t worry, she’s going along with it.” I smiled. “And unlike my younger sister Winnie, Millie can totally keep a secret.”

“Does she think we’re crazy?” He started wheeling the suitcase into the back hall.

“Definitely. But she—” I bumped into him, because he’d stopped moving.

To the right was his room. To the left was the room where I’d slept last night.

Behind him, I held my breath, hoping he’d choose right.

He went left. “Is this room okay?”

“Of course.” I followed him into the room. “It’s just...”

“What?” He faced me with a concerned expression.

“It’s just, what if someone asks to see the house tonight? My family has never been here before. If they see all my stuff in a separate room, they might wonder.”

He nodded. “You’re right.” He dragged the suitcase past me and across the hall into his bedroom. “Is this better?”

I lingered in the doorway, taking in the king-sized bed on the left, the twin nightstands with matching lamps, the chair in the corner, the sliding glass door leading to a private deck overlooking the woods. I’d been in here this morning, but hadn’t looked at much beyond a sexy, sleeping Hutton tangled up in the sheets. “It’s a beautiful room.”

He went over to the dresser. “If you just give me a minute, I’ll clear out some drawers for you so you can unpack in here. There should be plenty of room in the closet too—it’s huge. Sorry, I should have thought about this before.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He emptied the three dresser drawers on the left onto the bed. “Is that enough space?”

“Definitely.”

He scooped up the clothes on the bed in his arms. “I’ll just store these in another bedroom for now.”

“Okay.” I glanced at a door to my right. “Is that the bathroom?”

“Yes. There are clean towels in there too, if you want to take a shower.”

“Thanks.”

He stood there for a moment, staring at the blue dress I wore, like maybe he was picturing it coming off before my shower.

Which gave me an idea.

“Would you mind?” I turned around and presented my back. “It’s hard for me to get this unzipped on my own.”

“Oh. Sure.” He dumped the clothing on the bed again and came up behind me.

I felt his hands at the back of my neck, making my pulse quicken. Slowly, he slid the zipper down, pausing at my bra line. A few seconds passed.

I held my breath, fighting the impulse to fill the silence with words that would ease the tension. That’s good enough. I can take it from here. Thanks for the help.

Instead, I waited to see what he would do.

Then I heard the sound of the zipper again as he lowered it to my waist, his knuckles grazing my spine all the way down. My legs tingled.

Hutton paused, his fingers lingering on my tailbone. “Is that good?”

“Perfect. Thank you.”

“No problem.” Stepping back, he gathered up the pile of clothing on the bed and left the room, leaving me with a smile on my face and a galloping heart.

After closing the door behind him, I looked at my suitcase and the empty dresser drawers. Did this mean he actually wanted to share his bedroom with me?

Or was it all part of the act?

“I just can’t believe it.” Frannie’s eyes misted up again, even though she’d already cried twice—once when she and my dad had arrived, once during the appetizers on the deck, and now she was tearing up over her tacos. Seated across from me at the kitchen table, she dabbed at her eyes with her napkin.

“Jeez, Mom. Again?” Emmeline, seated at the island with Audrey, Hallie, and Luna, shook her head. “It’s not sad.”

“I know, but...” Frannie took a breath and smiled at me, her eyes glassy. “It’s overwhelming, how happy I feel about it.”

“And how sudden it was,” added my dad, who was next to her.

I smiled at them, trying not to feel bad. “It was sudden. I get it.”

“But it’s not like we didn’t all suspect,” gloated Winnie. She was seated next to our dad, with Dex at the end of the table nearest her. “You should have seen them back in high school,” she said to him. “It was obvious this was how it was going to turn out.”

“It’s cool that you were friends for so long,” Dex said.

“So how did you go from just friends to engaged so quickly?” Winnie asked. “Like when did it happen?”

On my left, Hutton grabbed his beer. To my right, at the other end of the table, Millie picked up her wine and took a big swallow. I wasn’t sure which of them was more nervous.

“Well,” I said, launching into the explanation Hutton and I had agreed on as we prepared dinner, “you guys know we’ve been close since we were twelve. And even when we’d go for a while without seeing each other, we were always in touch. In March, when Hutton came home for a visit, we really reconnected. Then when he moved back in May, we started spending more time together.”

“So it really wasn’t sudden at all,” Winnie said with a laugh.

“You realized what you’d been looking for was right there,” Frannie said, blinking back tears again.

“Just like in a song,” Audrey gushed. “Or a movie.”

“Or a storybook,” said Hallie. “Except not a fairy tale, because Felicity wasn’t, like, a servant or a mermaid.”

“Or in a sleep like death,” said Luna. “Or stuck in a tower.”

“Good thing, because she just chopped all her hair off. There wouldn’t have been anything for a prince to climb.” The two girls giggled at Hallie’s joke, and the twins joined in.

“At least you got to be a prince,” Dex said to Hutton. “When they put me in a story, I’m an ogre.”

“Are you going to have a big wedding?” asked Audrey.

“No,” I said firmly. “We’d like something very intimate at Cloverleigh Farms. Millie and I are working together on a date.” I gave my older sister a look, silently begging her to corroborate.

“Yes,” she said. “We’ll work it out.”

“But Cloverleigh must be totally booked for the season,” Frannie said with concern.

“On weekends, the barn is booked up, yes,” Millie said. “But since their event is small, we might be able to accommodate them somewhere else on the property.”

“We could close down the bar and restaurant on a Sunday evening,” Frannie said. “We’ve done that for private events before.”

“Sure,” said my dad.

“We know this is last minute, and we apologize,” I said to them both.

“No need.” My dad’s eyes met mine. He wasn’t an outwardly emotional guy—he was a Marine, after all—but the long, tight, bear hug he’d given me when he arrived told me how he felt. “We’ll make it work. Nothing is more important.”

I swallowed hard.

“Tell us about the proposal,” Winnie pleaded.

“It was very romantic.” I took a sip of my wine for courage. “We were on a walk in the woods here, and he suddenly just dropped to one knee.”

“Had you been planning it?” Frannie asked Hutton.

“It was sort of spontaneous.” That was his big line, and he delivered it well. I gave him a secret smile of triumph.

“Did he have a ring?” Winnie wanted to know.

“No, but we looked at photos online, and chose one together,” I said. “It’s being sized and we’ll pick it up soon.”

“So you’ve never even had it on your finger?” Winnie was excited about this. “It will be like getting engaged all over again when you put it on!”

I laughed. “I guess it will.”

“Which jewelry store?” Frannie asked. “Is it one in town?”

Panic seized my throat—we hadn’t actually decided which store.

“Tiffany.” Hutton surprised me by answering. “It’s at Tiffany in New York. We’re going to fly there this week and pick it up.”

“You are?” Winnie asked.

“We are?” I stared at Hutton.

“Yes.” He met my eyes and gave me a sexy little smile. “Surprise.”

“Oh.” Frannie fanned her face. “Here I go again.”

After dinner, it wasn’t quite dark yet so we decided to go sit down by the fire pit. Hutton mentioned there was a corn hole set in the game room on the walkout level, and my dad and Dex were both eager to demonstrate their superior skills in front of their daughters.

They grabbed beers and went down to carry the boards outside, and I opened another bottle of wine. After pouring some for Frannie and Winnie, who followed the guys and kids downstairs, I offered some to Millie. “I’m just going to get the dishes loaded, and then I’ll come down.”

“I’ll help you. I want to talk to you anyway.” She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was in earshot. “Oh my God! I’m dying!”

I filled both our glasses with wine and set the empty bottle on the marble. “Do you think we pulled it off?”

“Definitely. Everyone was so excited because you guys have been friends for so long. I don’t think they questioned it a bit—they want to believe it.”

“Good.” I took a sip of wine. “Although I do feel kind of bad about how happy Dad and Frannie are.”

“They are happy. But you know what?” She leaned back against the counter, draping her hands over the edges next to her hips. “Hutton is happy too.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he does not look at you like the feelings are fake.”

I turned away from her and started rinsing plates. “They aren’t all fake. We’re good friends.”

“You know what I mean.”

“How does he look at me?” I couldn’t resist asking.

“Like he can’t believe you’re real.”

I looked over at her. “Stop it.”

“I’m serious. The guy has a thing for you. Why else would he agree to this crazy scheme? Ask you to move in? Fly you to Tiffany in New York next week to pick up a ring?”

“I have no idea what that was about,” I said honestly. “It was not part of the story we made up earlier.”

“That’s my point.” She came over and started helping me load the dishes. “Not all of this is made up.”

“Okay, maybe not all of it—there is an attraction there,” I admitted.

She grabbed her wine and took a sip, her eyes sparkling with mischief over the rim of the glass. “Speaking of which, what are the sleeping arrangements Chez French?”

My cheeks burned. “I’m not sure. At first, he put all my stuff in the guest room, but then we thought that would look suspicious, so we moved it into his bedroom. But I don’t know what’s going to happen tonight. Like, when it’s time for bed, which room should I go in?”

“Do you want to sleep with him?”

“Yes, but you’re not supposed to want to bang your best friend or your fake fiancé, are you?”

Millie laughed. “I don’t think there are any guidelines for this situation. You’re going to have to make them up as you go along.” She clinked her glass to mine. “Have fun.”