Chapter 22
LUCAS
I’m standing in front of the mirror in Jake’s old bedroom at our parents’ house, adjusting my tie for the third time. It’s been five days since I’ve seen Holiday, and I’m losing my mind.
We’ve texted short and sweet messages that feel like breadcrumbs when what I really want is the whole damn meal. There were several good morning and how’s your day going texts.
The bakery is insane.
The farm is chaos.
Black Friday nearly killed me.
Hope you’re surviving.
There was nothing substantial. Nothing that crossed any lines that we agreed not to cross right now. But every time my phone buzzes, my heart jumps, hoping it’s her.
I almost broke twice. Wednesday night, I was in my truck with the engine running, ready to drive to her house. Friday afternoon, I found myself standing outside the bakery like a creep, watching her laugh through the window before I forced myself to leave.
Five days felt like years.
And now, the talk of the town is about Dominic, who arrived in Merryville this morning. Emma sent the group chat a text saying he checked into the Merryville Inn. The newspaper already interviewed him, and he was walking around town like he has a right to be here.
I haven’t heard from Holiday in twenty-four hours.
There has been no mention of Dominic or if he’s tried to contact her. Nothing.
And it’s killing me.
“You look like you’re about to throw up,” Hudson says from where he’s lounging on Jake’s bed, already dressed. He looks annoyingly comfortable in the custom-made Italian suit that costs more than my truck.
“Oh, I’m fine,” I say, looking at him from the reflection of the mirror.
“You’ve been staring at that tie for ten minutes. It’s straight. You’re just stalling.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You absolutely are.” Jake appears in the doorway already dressed and ready. He looks different somehow. More mature, even though he’s only three years older than me. He’s about to marry the love of his life and has zero doubts about his future.
Claire’s family spared no expense on this wedding. The formal wear is custom, tailored to perfection, all designed by her friends at Bellamore. My suit was custom-made for my body. It’s black with subtle details and is lined with red silk.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and it’s Emma.
Emma
Still no Holiday.
The jacket makes my shoulders look broader, and I’ve been working on the farm enough that I’m in the best shape of my life. But none of that matters if Holiday doesn’t show up. She’s never late.
I’m concerned Dominic’s presence is messing with her head.
“Dude.” Hudson sits up. “You need to chill.”
“Yeah, what’s the problem?” Jake asks.
The problem is, I haven’t seen her in five days, and I’m supposed to act like we’re casual acquaintances who just happen to bake cookies together when the world knows the truth.
Dominic Laurent is in town, and I know he will try to contact her.
I stupidly gave her space when every instinct I have is screaming to go to her.
I don’t tell them that, though. My relationship issues aren’t a concern for either of my brothers.
“Zero problems,” I tell him. “Just want everything to go smoothly tonight.”
“Oh, it will. Claire has planned this down to the minute.” Jake gives me a smile. “But that’s not your issue. You’ve been walking around like a ghost all week. We should talk about Holiday.”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” I say.
“Bullshit.” Hudson stands and crosses his arms. “You gave her hickeys and then ignored her all week.”
“I didn’t ignore her,” I correct him. “We hung out the next night.”
“And then you ignored her, right?” Hudson grins. “You’re keeping track like some lovesick teenager.”
I want to punch him.
“Speaking of,” Hudson continues, clearly enjoying himself, “I couldn’t believe Mawmaw brought the hickeys up at Thanksgiving dinner. Love that the whole family knows you marked her like a caveman.”
“Yeah, well, Jake should’ve kept his fucking mouth shut.”
This makes him laugh. “No, I shouldn’t have. It’s a lot more fun to watch you squirm.”
“Can we please not do this right now?” I say, glancing between them.
“We are absolutely going to do this right now.” Jake moves closer, but his expression is gentler now. “Look, I’m marrying the love of my life tonight. And you know what I’ve learned from being with Claire?”
“What?”
“Life’s too short to play it safe when you know.” He puts his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve been in love with Holiday Patterson since you hit puberty. That’s two decades, Lucas. And you’ve spent a long fucking time waiting and wondering and wishing she’d come back.”
“I know how long it’s been.”
“Then why are you acting like this?” He squeezes my shoulder. “She came back. She’s here. She’s single. And every time you two are in the same room, it’s obvious she wants you just as much as you want her.”
I sigh. “It’s complicated.”
“Love is complicated. That’s what makes it worth it.” Jake steps back. “I’m not telling you to rush into anything. Just don’t waste any more years being scared of what might happen when you could be living the life you want.”
Hudson nods. “For once, I agree with Jake. You’ve been miserable. Just admit you’re crazy about her and do something about it.”
“I’m being respectful. Giving her space to figure out what she wants.”
“Has it occurred to you that maybe,” Jake says slowly, “she already knows what she wants? And she’s waiting for you to stop being so damn noble about everything?”
I think about the texts. The way she’s tried to restrain herself because I asked her to.
“I can’t be hers for a season again,” I say. “I won’t fucking survive it.”
Both of them go still.
“You think you’re a rebound?” Hudson asks, and his voice has lost all of its teasing edge.
“I don’t know. Her ex fucked her head up.” I run my hand through my hair. “She has a lot to work through.”
“Fuck that,” Hudson says. “Help her heal from it.”
Jake’s jaw is tight. “She needs you, Lucas. Pushing her away is the last thing you should be doing.”
The words hit like a punch because he’s right.
“Space is one thing. But her ex just arrived, and you’re like…let’s ignore one another?”
“It’s not like that.”
“No? ’Cause that’s what it looks like.” Hudson’s voice is firm now. “Seems to me like you’re the one who isn’t sure what you want. She came back for you, Lucas. That’s pretty fucking obvious to everyone.”
I stare at him, my chest tight.
“Agreed,” Jake says. “Now stop overthinking everything and just…be with her.”
“There are articles online about us.”
“And? There were articles about me and Hudson when we started dating the Manchester sisters. You’ll get over it.
You’ll learn to ignore it. Build a fortress where the two of you can escape it all.
And who gives a damn what anyone says or how it looks.
Stop hiding behind needing space and being respectful, and just be honest with yourself,” Jake says. “You deserve to be happy, too.”
“Yeah? And what if what I want scares her off? What if she runs back to Paris, and I’m left here to pick up the broken pieces alone again?”
“Then at least you tried.” Jake adjusts his jacket. “But I’d be willing to bet that she’s been waiting for you to stop holding back just as much as you’ve been waiting for her to come home.”
Hudson claps me on the shoulder. “Plus, you look good today. Use it to your advantage.”
I let out a rough laugh. “You’re both terrible at pep talks.”
“We’re excellent at pep talks, you’re just a stubborn asshole who thinks he knows it all.” He claps me on my shoulder again. “Now come on. We have a wedding to get to, and you have a woman to impress.”
We drive out to the opposite side of the farm by the big storage barn in a convoy of black SUVs that Claire’s family arranged. Everything about this wedding is extravagant in a way that should feel out of place in Merryville, but somehow, Claire made it work.
The large venue is set up in the north field, the one with the best view of the rolling hills and Christmas trees beyond. It’s been transformed into something that belongs in a magazine, not on a working tree farm.
Three massive white tents are connected by heated walkways lined with evergreen garland and thousands of white lights.
The main ceremony tent is in the center, with clear panels on the sides so the farm can be seen.
Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, and more white lights are strung everywhere, making it look like we’re standing under a sky made of stars.
The tent on the left is for cocktails and appetizers.
Ice sculptures of swans and Christmas trees are on the opposite side of the entrance.
Their surfaces glisten with condensation from the heat lamps.
There are several bars being tended by bartenders in formal wear, mixing signature cocktails and serving appetizers on silver trays.
The tent on the right is set up for dinner and dancing.
A quartet is doing sound checks in one corner, the soft sounds of a violin floating through the space.
Tables are draped in white linen with gold accents.
Centerpieces made of white roses and evergreen branches smell like Christmas and elegance combined.
Heat lamps disguised as elegant standing candelabras keep the temperature comfortable, despite the late November cold outside. This had to have cost more than most people make in several years, but it’s beautiful. Exactly what I’d imagine Claire would do.
“Your fiancée went all out,” I tell Jake as we walk through the ceremony tent doing a final check.
“She’s been planning this for a year. I just showed up where she told me to and said yes to everything.” But he’s grinning, clearly happy to let Claire have whatever she wants.
Claire appears from behind a curtain where the bridal party is getting ready. Even though Jake’s not supposed to see her, she walks right up to him in her silk robe and kisses him like they’re the only two people in the world.