The Fiance Dilemma (The Long Game #2)

Chapter Twenty-One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

It was rehearsal weekend— R.W. as Bobbi had been consistently referring to it in emails, texts, calls, and conversation—and the Vasquez Farm was brimming with people.

Last time I’d seen so many workers buzzing around had been last year at our first frost event. The magic—and doom—of the whole thing was that the celebration would culminate with a big party on the day after the frost. Only it never came. Days turned into weeks and much like this year, the temperatures never seemed to drop enough for that day to arrive. The festival stretched for over a month, and by the time we rolled into the fifth week without a nice and crisp layer of ice, it all had gone off the rails. Before I could do anything about it, Green Oak had turned into a betting house, and people argued and wagered scary amounts of money over this whole first frost business.

I told myself never again. You live and you learn, and you don’t let a war erupt in your town.

Only maybe I didn’t learn.

Because here we were. New polls were running on Page Nine on whether I would wear white, or whether it’d be the groom who ran this time, and I was inflicting yet another spectacle on Green Oak.

If Bobbi heard me call this a spectacle, she’d probably burst a blood vessel. She was oddly happy with how everything was turning out, despite my picking most things at random.

Maybe Matthew had been right all along. Beautiful things shouldn’t be boxed.

I smiled at the thought, at the idea of him, my gaze drifting away from the clipboard I had propped against my hip. I’d been signing off on things all morning, barely allowed to move from my spot at what Bobbi had called a safe area. Because we couldn’t have the bride breaking a leg or an arm or her neck on R.W., apparently. Not a week before W-Day, like she also said. So I’d been demoted to logistics, which meant that I signed a slip while stuff was loaded off a truck.

I was bored, frankly. Restless too.

I wanted to talk to Matthew. Be with him. Study his face. The brown of his eyes. Look for any signs of panic because… we were a week out. From W-Day. And neither of us was making the other talk about what that could mean.

I looked behind me, making sure Bobbi wasn’t around. Then I gave the delivery guy in front of me a nod. “I’ll be right back,” I told him with a smile. He cocked a brow. Understandable. Bobbi had been terrorizing everyone, including him. “I promise. Ten minutes tops. Please?”

The guy gave his head a quick shake. “Yeah, okay. But if she—”

“I’ll take the blame!” I exclaimed, turning immediately around.

I hadn’t seen Matthew since we’d parted ways after driving here. He’d picked me up at the house, just like every time we’d had to run errands. My cheeks heated at the memory of how he’d looked at me this morning when I’d walked through the door. Matthew never waited inside the car. He always, always leaned on the passenger door and watched me make my way to him, opening the door for me without breaking eye contact. A beat-up Prius had never made me blush like his did.

Like Matthew did.

Flashes of that day at Fairhill, in Stu’s deli, crowded my mind, making my breathing a little too labored for someone strolling around a farm. I doubled my pace, as an excuse to justify it, or as a result of the urgency and excitement bubbling in my belly. I… wanted Matthew. It’d be idiotic to deny it at this point. I wanted his hands on me. Again. I wanted him on me, honestly. I wanted that kiss he wasn’t giving me. I—

I spotted the back of his head, right by the grassy section of farmland where the long tables for the rehearsal dinner would be installed. A tent to cover supplies and crates from the weather had been set up, and he was sitting there, next to it with someone else. A smaller head of messy brown hair barely contained by a French braid. María. I smiled to myself just as she moved, allowing me a glimpse of Pedro Pigscal.

Those two were totally hiding here, sneaking away from Bobbi, I was sure, and neglecting the long lists of tasks I knew she’d handed them, too. I chuckled to myself and approached slowly, wanting to catch them by surprise.

“Trust me on this, Mr. Matthew,” I heard María say in the distance. “I ran both your astral charts. She’s a gemini sun and moon. And virgo ascendant. I’m very thorough with my work.”

Matthew’s laugh followed, the sound making my stomach swirl. “How old are you again?”

“Old enough for you to be smart and listen to me,” María answered.

Another chuckle traveled through the wind. “I like you, kid.”

“I kinda like you too, I guess,” María answered. “And it’s not because you have soul-mate compatibility with Miss Josie.”

María’s words brought my body to a stop. I hadn’t been planning on eavesdropping, but when María continued I couldn’t make myself move. “I’m only doing this because I think you can make her happy. And she deserves happy. So just listen to me,’kay?”

Matthew’s answer was solemn, “Okay, hit me. I’m listening.”

“Miss Josie loves all kinds of stuff,” María said. “But unlike most grown-ups, she thinks magic is real. Like me. And no, I’m not talking about Santa. I’m talking about real magic. Like witchy things, but also manifestation and all of that. We watch videos and talk about it all the time. Miss Adalyn doesn’t believe in that stuff, but that’s okay. That’s why she has us.” A pause. “Anyway, what I mean is that this will be important to her. You should tell her that you’re soul mates.”

I swallowed, my heart pounding strangely as I waited for Matthew’s answer.

“Why do you think she should know that?” Matthew asked, voice serious. “Besides her believing in magic.”

“Because I’d like to know,” María said, as if it was obvious. “You know, I was too little when Miss Josie was engaged to all these people everyone keeps talking about, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on. Adults think I don’t pay attention when they gossip, but I have two ears, just like them. And it sounds to me like those men could have done something about it, you know?”

“Something like what?”

“Like not standing there like a dummy while she ran, I dunno.” She blew air through her lips, the sound frustrated. “Maybe Miss Josie acted all strong after leaving those guys, but I’m sure she cries when she’s alone. Not always. But sometimes. Just like my dad does sometimes too, when he misses my mom. Miss Josie lost her mom, too, just like me. So maybe she runs because she’s scared. I guess I would if I’d had my heart broken. But I don’t know, I’m eleven and I’ve never been in love.”

My gaze fell to the ground, my feet itching to bolt if not for the fact I was rooted to the place, heart drumming in my ears.

Matthew’s voice was low, almost hushed. “You’re very insightful for an eleven-year-old, kiddo.”

“I know,” María said. “Here. Hold Pedro, it’ll feel nice. He’s warm. And you guys did a good job babysitting him the other day.”

I heard Matthew clear his throat. “Hey María? Do you think I can mend it? Her heart?”

She hummed in thought. “I guess? But I’m only a kid, Mr. Matthew. Maybe you should ask her. Or tell her you want to. That way if she gets scared, she won’t leave you too.”

That way if she gets scared, she won’t leave you too.

Before I could dissect how or why that made me so incredibly sad, or what followed those words, I was on the move.

My break probably hadn’t been the best idea anyway.

I set the last folding chair in its place with a shaky breath.

María’s overheard words had left me… a little rattled, to say the least.

I was also never folding or unfolding chairs ever again. In fact, I was getting rid of them after all of this was over. I’d ask Robbie to help me organize a nice bonfire, and we’d chuck them all into the fire and watch them burn.

That’s what three hundred folding chairs did to you.

I patted my hands on my jeans and looked around, taking in my work. The sight made the dropping sensation from earlier return, but that was why I’d decided to indulge in a session of self-induced shock therapy. It wasn’t exactly necessary that the bride personally checked and arranged line after line of chairs. Not when there was a tiny army of people around to do that and I’d caught some fire for leaving my spot at the front. But I didn’t care.

These were just chairs.

And I needed something to do.

My phone buzzed in my back pocket. A message popped up in the group chat.

ADALYN: Do you need us to come help? We can head to Green Oak early and stay at Lazy Elk tonight. With Matthew staying with you.

With Matthew staying with you. We hadn’t exactly told Adalyn and Cameron that Matthew was staying at my place, but they’d assumed it. Of course they had. We were engaged. To be married in a week. So that was what the housing situation should have been looking like. My belly loved the idea of Matthew staying with me. My head was set on reminding me that we were lying to Adalyn and Cameron. Although… were we? I couldn’t tell anymore.

JOSIE: Everything’s under control. No assistance is needed (or wanted, because Bobbi is unbearable). You can just drive up tomorrow for the big thing.

ADALYN: You’re sure?

JOSIE: Positive, sis. Let’s meet in the morning if you want and catch up before everything starts.

MATTHEW: You could stay over tomorrow night. After the dinner.

I swallowed. That meant… Matthew wouldn’t sleep at Lazy Elk, then. He would stay at my place.

ADALYN: Oh. That’s a good idea. That way we don’t have to drive back so late at night.

CAMERON: Awfully nice to be invited to stay over at my own property, by the man I thought was my tenant, too. Cheers, mate.

MATTHEW: You’re awfully welcome.

MATTHEW: You’re awfully cranky lately, too.

MATTHEW: And awfully hard to love right now. But I’m not discouraged. Do you want to meet for breakfast while Josie and Adalyn catch up?

CAMERON: Yes.

ADALYN: Ignore him. Please. He’s just stressed out. We told you to make yourself at home and we meant it.

CAMERON: I’m sorry, love.

MATTHEW: I forgive you, sweetheart.

MATTHEW: And all it takes is for me to swing my schlong once around a place to make it mine. You need to love me as I am.

The gulp of air I’d been apparently holding throughout Cameron and Matthew’s exchange escaped me. It was a snort.

“There it is,” a deep voice I knew well said. “It took me swinging my schlong for you to let go of that frown.”

My gaze lifted off my screen and was immediately snatched by Matthew’s, who stood a few rows of chairs away from me. He was smiling at me in a way that made that special place in my belly flutter. The man looked so handsome when he smiled like that. All tall and wide and happy. And way too wholesome for his own good, in his glasses and that cream knit sweater he was wearing today. The color brought out the streaks of blond in his hair, and now that I could see his sleeves rolled up, I wished I’d caught sight of him working.

He started moving, crossing the distance to where I was. “You’re staring,” he said through his smile.

“You’re wearing your glasses.”

He came to a stop in front of me. “I have a little wager going on,” he admitted with a shrug. “Wanna hear about it?”

I gave him a nod, and he moved a little closer.

“You always point out when I wear them,” he said, brushing some hair off my forehead. Goose bumps broke out across my skin. “So every time I leave home, I take a guess at whether you’ll say something that day.”

That was so silly. And I loved it so much. “Did you guess today?”

The back of his fingers grazed my jaw, his gaze down, fixated on my mouth. “Yes.”

“And what did you win?”

His other hand rose, and he cupped my face. “This,” he said, the pads of his thumbs skimming over my cheeks. “This blush.” I tingled. All over. My feet moved closer, the tips of my sneakers touching the toes of his boots. “It makes a little boy who used to get called four-eyes puff his chest with pride.”

I felt my face fall a little, and Matthew chuckled.

“Hey, none of that.” Hands moved around the sides of my face before dropping to his sides. “Have you seen me now? I’m hot as shit.”

The chortle that left me caught both of us off guard. Matthew’s eyes glinted as they roamed around my face, whether pleased with himself or what he saw, I couldn’t tell. Knowing him, probably both. I loved that about him. He was so shamelessly smug where I was concerned. The thought gave me pause. I was quickly realizing I probably loved one too many things about this man. And maybe… maybe I should linger on that thought.

Do you think I can mend it? Her heart?

Maybe you should ask her. Or tell her you want to.

“Matthew,” I started. “Earlier…”

Before I could finish that statement, he pulled something from his back pocket and any confession I might have had died at the sight of what he was holding.

A blue thimble.

“Last of the season,” Matthew said, my gaze on that stunning violet I’d always loved so much. “They should stop blooming around August, but this one had extra defiance.” I looked up at him. His expression was soft. Incredibly so. “It’s what makes it so beautiful. So unique. She’s brave and resilient and can overcome anything.”

My throat went dry, and when he slipped it in my hair, just like he’d done with that daisy two, three weeks, or what felt like an eternity ago, something solidified in my gut. Deep inside me. Something scary, something beautiful, something that was impossible to push aside.

“They remind me of Mom.” Matthew’s expression sobered, as if he knew I was about to tell him something I didn’t admit readily. “That’s why they’re my favorite. She had a handkerchief embroidered with blue thimbles. She’d done it herself, and she always told me it’d be my…” I trailed off, short of breath. He clasped my hand. “My something borrowed and something blue.” That void I’d learned to live with expanded for a moment, opening a hole. “Remember what I told you a few days ago? In my truck? She would tie it around my wrist, and we would walk down the hallway.” A smile blossomed, it wasn’t sad or happy, just something in between. “But I’ve never taken it out of the drawer. Never felt… right. As if it was too violet for something that was supposed to be blue, and no longer borrowed now that she’s gone.”

Matthew stepped into me, his body providing the warmth that had left me at some point during my speech. And when his hands cupped my face, it didn’t feel like when he had done it a few moments ago. It felt like so much more. It felt like if I told him that some nights I cried myself to sleep because I missed Mom so much, he’d have a way to make it better. It felt like if I told him that I’d been flying on autopilot ever since he arrived in town and I wasn’t brave enough to admit that I was lost and truly terrified and had no idea where I was going, he’d just be able to find me. Take me somewhere safe. It felt like if I ever felt the urge to run, he’d come after me.

“Can I be blunt?” Matthew whispered, peppermint tickling the tip of my nose.

I gave him a nod.

“There’s nothing I want more than to kiss you,” he said, voice hard. With the same fierceness I felt in the grasp of his hands. My heart cartwheeled, eyelids fluttering closed. “Wipe that sadness off your face with my mouth.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“I told myself to make it count.” His fingers slipped into my hair. “Remember my rule? I kiss you because you know what it’ll mean, no matter what’s down the line.”

My eyes blinked open. I remembered that. It was all I’d been thinking of lately. “And what would it mean? If you kissed me now.”

Surprise registered in his gaze. The corners of his lips twitched. “That’s exactly what I mean, Baby Blue. You shouldn’t be asking me.” His forehead pressed against mine, just like he had that day in my truck. “You shouldn’t be asking me.”

Something fizzled inside me. It wasn’t rejection. It was… determination. Curiosity. Defiance. “I do remember there being a part about you kissing me because you fucking need to. And another one about me needing you to. What if I do?”

A laugh escaped his lips, falling right on mine. And it wasn’t a kiss, but it was pretty sweet, too.

Then the grip of his hand around my face changed. He tipped my head back, and when I met his gaze, I swallowed. Hard. He licked his lips, mine parting in response. His eyes dipped to my mouth, just the once, making my heart thrum.

His jaw clenched and he—started humming a song. Just under his breath, soft but loud enough for me to pick up the tune. It was a country song I knew well, and it talked about a girl who had roped in a man from a country mile and tangled him up. Just like one big ball of Grandma’s yarn.

Grandma’s yarn.

That had been my answer to his question about whether I had him wrapped around my finger. That night that seemed like eons ago. In my kitchen.

I smiled. And Matthew did too, even through the prayer in his eyes.

I wasn’t going to get my kiss today. And as much as I was a touch disappointed, I was also in awe of the man. He had a willpower I lacked, and we were so backward it wasn’t even funny anymore. “If you’re going to ask me to dance, the least you can do is sing a little louder than that.”

His eyes lit up, and his voice grew louder as we twirled between the rows of chairs. Soon, the earlier heaviness in my mind started to recede, and it was just us. Me and Matthew’s voice and Matthew’s goofiness and the promise of that kiss. By the time we were hitting the verse, I was laughing, and he was turning around.

He stuck his ass up in the air. And he—

“Are you twerking?” I asked him. “To an a cappella country song?”

Matthew caught my eye over his shoulder, still moving. “Absolutely I am.” He winked. “And you can give me a nice pat. You know, test the horse before you buy it. Go on, country girl. It’s a nice butt.”

My smile turned so big I was afraid it’d hurt. He really had a nice ass. And maybe—

A throat cleared.

I froze. Matthew did, too, perky butt sticking out.

We turned, finding Andrew standing awkwardly at the end of the rows of chairs I’d unfolded.

“Sorry to, uh, interrupt?” he said. “Bobbi’s asking for you. The two of you. If you can spare a minute.”

There was a moment of silence. Matthew was probably letting me decide whether we immediately left or stayed to make small talk. Or how to respond to Andrew’s request. I stayed put. I’d never seen Andrew look so sheepish. So shy.

“I could make an excuse,” Andrew offered, making my brows arch with more surprise. “If you’d like me to. While you… finish here?”

My chest warmed. And maybe it was stupid of me, but it felt so nice that I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at him.

“I think we’re finished,” I told him. I sounded happy. Way too happy. “But that’s so nice of you. Thank you.”

For a moment, I wondered what it’d be like to add a Dad at the end of those words. To have him smiling back at me the way I did at him. But that would be silly. That’s what would make me na?ve. Just like back at the party that night, when Andrew had chosen a picture with Duncan over me. But that was fine. It was all right. I didn’t need things that were realistically out of my reach. I wanted simple things. Things that sometimes came easy, and things that you oftentimes had to put a little work in. And I wanted to believe this was him trying.

Matthew pressed a kiss on my temple. As if sensing the strange cloud hovering above my head. “Let’s go, Baby Blue,” he said. “See what Bobbi wants. Then I’ll drive us home.”

“That sounds nice,” escaped my lips. Us. I didn’t think he’d said it for my father’s benefit, and I’d take a win where I saw one. “We should be rested for tomorrow.”

Andrew nodded, his eyes bouncing between the two of us, as if he was noticing something he hadn’t before. I couldn’t imagine what. Matthew had always been like this. At least around me. The realization seemed important, but just as I was grasping it, Andrew spoke.

“Josephine?”

The thought fled. “Yeah?”

“I was wondering,” he started, with a little pause. “If you’d like me to be there. For you. Next Saturday.”

Next Saturday was December first.

Matthew stilled by my side. The hold of his hand tightening around mine.

“What do you mean?” I asked, even though I knew what Andrew was referring to. I was also very aware of what I’d just shared with Matthew. Of what I’d told him that day in my truck. About Mom.

“I am your father,” Andrew stated. His throat tripped over something. Air? Words? Then he said, “I could walk you down the aisle. If you’d like me to.”

It was my turn to stall. Although I’d known he was referring to this. I’d known and I’d asked. I’d pushed, made him say the words. “Is that something you would like?” I heard myself ask.

His face did a weird thing. Or maybe it wasn’t weird. Maybe it was just something Andrew’s expression did. I couldn’t really know. “Yes.”

I tried to stop the burst of emotion in the middle of my chest. I really tried.

It made me feel so tiny again, like a child. It made me happy and sad, too, all at once. I couldn’t believe that one word from him could cause that reaction in me. Clearly, I had those issues the world accused me of having.

Clearly, I shouldn’t smile.

Clearly, I shouldn’t agree. Say yes. Of course. I’d love that too.

I should ask him why. Is that because you want a relationship with me? Is it because you see me trying? Are you meeting me halfway ? This man couldn’t be all bad. Not when his relationship with Adalyn had been somewhat salvaged after him admitting to his mistakes. Not when such a wonderful woman like Adalyn’s mother had loved him. Not when Mom had seen something in him. Mom wouldn’t just sleep with someone she met at a bar. Or with someone she just knew from town. Just because. Me and Mom had always been hopeless romantics. We believed in things like promises, vows, love.

I should ask Andrew if he was only doing this because there was a poll online. If it was the thousands of people voting, the ones who had decided who walked me down the aisle, and not him. Me. Us.

But the words that left me were, “Yes. Of course. I’d love that too.”

Because when under pressure, not only did I make rash decisions.

I sometimes caved, too.