CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Skye
Valentine’s Day dawns bright and sunny and beautiful.
Nature did not get the memo to deliver the blizzard of the century, shutting down the roads and canceling the dance.
Though if it had, Severin might have gotten Luke to flame the roads clean.
Who needs salt trucks and snowplows when you have a dragon?
Thank god Hannah made me drink two glasses of water and take aspirin before going to bed.
It also helps that I didn’t make it all the way to shitfaced, stopping somewhere in the vicinity of pleasantly tipsy and ready-to-karaoke-power-ballads-with-my-gal-pals.
Which for me means two glasses of wine. I’m a total lightweight.
I burrow into my blanket cocoon on the couch and flip through the channels, looking for the most outrageous reality TV shows I can find, but the day drags by.
I consider distracting myself by opening Dance of Desire and finally reading the book I lived half of.
It would be nice to see what happens at the dance competition.
Do they finally do the lift? I bet they finally do the lift—it’s a great metaphor for their relationship finally taking flight and all that jazz.
Too bad mine’s dead on the ground.
When my phone chimes to tell me it’s time to get ready, I put on my favorite dress, with a vee neck and a fitted waist that flares out into a full skirt.
Instead of being something traditionally romantic, it’s covered in the spines of books, turning me into a walking bookshelf.
It usually cheers me up, but tonight it reminds me of Luke and his library.
I fight down the pang pinching my squishy heart and curl my hair into my easiest 1950s style and swipe on a soft-pink lipstick.
Good enough. It’s not as though there’s any reason to look great tonight.
As I trudge toward the front door, Princess Buttercup darts into the entryway.
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want.
You can use me as an excuse. I’ll make myself throw up a really big hairball, and you can tell everyone you’re too worried about me to leave.
” She starts making hacking noises in the back of her throat, but nothing happens.
“Huh. I think I’m going to need to try harder. ”
“Please don’t,” I hurry to say before she can start hacking again.
“I know!” She hops up to set her paws on my thigh. “Take me with you, and as soon as Luke comes into the room, I’ll pee on his shoes. Everyone will ask him to leave, and you won’t have to see him.”
“Thank you.” I crouch and run my hand over her head, scratching behind her ears. “That’s the sweetest offer of weaponized peeing I’ve ever heard, but Luke won’t be there. He hates dancing.”
It’s the only thing making tonight bearable, knowing the Valentine’s Day Dance is the very last place Luke will be.
I get to Ferndale Falls a little early, the last rays of sunlight painting the sky over downtown with streaks of orange and pink.
Light spills out of the windows of all the open shops, splashing across all the people walking arm in arm along the sidewalks.
Every restaurant and café is filled to bursting with happy couples.
It’s like one of the over-abundant proposal scenes Luke and I experienced inside the book, where everywhere we looked were couples. Only all of this is real, and it feels like everyone in the world is happy and in love but me.
Mrs. Greely is already inside the Town Hall meeting room when I arrive, standing guard beside the refreshments table in the deep-red velour tracksuit she only wears on Valentine’s.
Her sharp eyes miss nothing as Devina sets up several large urns full of coffee, fruit punch, and water.
Pepperpot already has a rainbow of sugar cookies laid out across the table, shaped like hearts and iced with a range of toppings in varying colors and flavors.
There’s also a platter of the traditional tiramisu, already cut up into small squares.
Ferndale Falls might be the only place in the world that associates the espresso dessert with Valentine’s, but it’s a cemented tradition, so nobody’s messing with it.
“How did you hang those?” Mrs. Greely jabs her cane toward the ceiling, where the flying hearts flap around lazily.
“One of those tall ladders like painters use,” I lie. Actually, I had Severin use his shadow magic to move them from the greenhouse for the night. They look beautiful and add a touch of magic for anyone who can see their true nature.
The Events Committee Chair gives me the once-over, then sniffs. “The decorations are adequate.”
I suppress a smile. Adequate equals amazing in Mrs. Greely speak, because if she can find something to complain about, no matter how small, she totally will.
Jared stands behind the small table he’s set up as his DJ station.
He taps his tablet, and Shakira’s newest hit plays over the room’s ceiling-mounted speakers.
Someone dims the lights, and in an instant, all of my decorations look way better.
Fanciful twists of crepe make loops across the walls in three different shades of pink.
Every other surface is covered in hearts with a few cherubs mixed in.
People enter en masse, this event the most exciting thing to happen in months. Several head for the cookies and punch, while a few brave couples take to the dance floor, ready to get the party feeling flowing.
The aunts dance past, giving me happy little waves. “Great job, sweetheart!” “The place looks wonderful!”
I keep a smile on my face as I wave back. No need to spoil their Valentine’s fun.
Hannah floats by in Severin’s arms. She’s in a gorgeous flowing blue dress of Faerie silk, while he wears an embroidered waistcoat in a coordinating dark blue.
The pair of them look like the other half of their personas—not a small-town mayor and her wealthy husband, but a king and queen of Faerie come to play among the mortals.
Rune twirls Autumn across the floor so quickly her long red hair and skirt fly out like twin flags. She laughs up at him, happy and bright.
I’m so glad both of them found love. I want only the best for my friends. But is it so horrible to want the same for myself? Will I ever find anyone willing to dance with me like that?
Several more Witch Bitches arrive. Kayla uses her height to spot me and plows through the dancers to get to my side. She gives me a quick hug. “You hanging in there?”
“I am.” It’s not a lie. Okay, not a huge one. Maybe medium sized? How bad is it to lie a medium-sized amount?
A second later I squeak when Shadow steps out of thin air right in front of us.
“Take a deep breath and hold it.” He grins, clamps a hand on both of our shoulders, and steps backward, pulling us into a gray and misty place. In another second we’re out and standing in…
“Haute & Bothered!” I gasp, taking in all of the gorgeous dresses filling the boutique. “What? How? What?”
“No time. You need to get changed,” the werepanther says. He spins toward Kayla. “And you’re her emotional-support person. I’ll be back in five minutes.” Then he steps to the side and disappears.
“What the hell is he playing at?” Kayla stands, hands on hips, glaring at the spot where Shadow last stood.
“No idea.”
“If I may?” a melodious voice says, and Valena steps out of the back.
She’s tall and thin and beautiful, like all of the shadow fae, but she wears a gorgeous pale yellow dress of draped Faerie silk that completely hides her shadow tattoos.
Looking at her, you see the elves her people used to be.
She holds up the dress draped over her arms.
It’s cherry red, with a 1950s halter-style top and a full A-line skirt that will flare beautifully when twirled, supported by several layers of weightless silk instead of crinoline.
The fabric’s patterned with tiny pink hearts scattered across the surface with an irregularity that says it’s been hand painted.
It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.
“It’s so soft.” Kayla runs a finger over the fabric. “What is it?”
“It’s Faerie silk,” I say. “Like the bridesmaid dress I wore for Hannah’s wedding.”
Valena nods.
“Those dresses were so expensive Severin bought them for me and Autumn. Which means this one’s expensive, too.” I narrow my eyes at Kayla and point. “Did you and the rest of the Witch Bitches do this?”
“Not me.” She raises both hands. “I swear.”
I turn my gaze on the seamstress. “Then who?”
“My client has sworn me to silence. May I put the dress on you? We’re running out of time.”
I shouldn’t—I really, really shouldn’t—who the fudge takes super expensive presents from an unknown person? But the dress is gorgeous and perfect in exactly my size and style.
And my heart, my silly squishy jelly heart, whispers that it has to be Luke.
So I say, “Yes.”
The fae flicks her fingers, and magic washes over me, leaving me wearing the dress.
And not just the dress. I run my hands down my sides.
I have on new underwear too, with a full bustier by the feel of things.
I even have on matching red shoes. I give a little twirl in front of the standing mirror, and the skirt lifts exactly as I expected.
This is a dress for dancing.
Valena flicks her fingers again, and another tingle of magic courses over me.
In the shop mirror, I have new makeup and hair, with a bold red lip and a fancier do.
Even my nails have been manicured to match the pink of the hearts painted on the silk.
“The makeup will remain in place for eight hours.” She winks at me.
“No smudging or mess, no matter what you do.”
“Perfect.” Shadow steps out of nowhere, grips my elbow, and holds a hand out to a frowning Kayla. “Please. It’s fast, and you won’t have to go out into the cold without a coat.”
“The only reason I’m without my coat is because of you!”
“So let me take you back.” His fingers curl in a come-hither gesture.
She hesitates for a couple more seconds before slapping her palm into his. “I’m only doing this for Skye.”
He steps backward, his grin seeming to hang in the air even as the rest of him disappears. Then he pulls us into the gray place for a couple of beats before we’re back at the dance. The werepanther drops our hands and lets out a whistle.
Jared waves from the DJ station, and the volume drops on Bruno Mars singing “Die with a Smile” right as another, much, much older song starts to play.
“Is that ‘Time of My Life’ from Dirty Dancing?” Kayla asks.
“Yes.” I know it by heart. How could I not? Especially after doing the dance routine so many times that last time Luke and I were sucked into the book.
The couples on the dance floor part, opening an aisle, and at the other end of it stands Luke. Tailored black slacks hug his long legs, and his crisp white dress shirt is a little too unbuttoned in that way that makes him utterly lickable. His golden eyes burn into mine, full of determination.
He’s not… this isn’t…
My brain stutters to a halt as my heart leaps around inside my chest, confused and flustered and so damned hopeful I feel like I could die from it.
Luke glides forward on the balls of his feet. In seconds, his hands are on me, and we’re dancing—he’s dancing—in front of the whole town!
My body takes over, following his lead as we turn and spin and mambo. When he picks me up for the carousel spin, I whisper, “But you hate dancing.”
He grunts his yes grunt as he sets me on my feet and spins me away before reeling me back to him, to his arms, to his big body moving mine across the floor.
“You didn’t want anyone to know you were dancing,” I whisper-hiss, feeling the press of so many eyes upon us. Faces flash past, my aunts, the Witch Bitches, Shadow, the orc from the pub. Pixies swirl over our heads, mixing with the flying hearts and whistling high and excited.
“You especially never wanted anyone to see.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he growls and dips me, then pulls me upright and spins me out and away while he takes several steps backward and crouches, hands held forward and waiting.
The lift. Sweet fudging fudge, the lift!
We’ve never done it outside of the pond, and we certainly couldn’t do it inside of the book.
But all our practice has given me a confidence I’ve never had before.
And this is the real Luke, a strong and capable dragon with centuries of wisdom and life experience. When he gestures me forward, I can’t help but trust him.
I run, my heart in my throat. I run, my body filled with light and hope. I run, my feet hitting the mark and launching me up, up into the air where Luke’s strong hands catch my hips and lift me high overhead until I’m flying for the entire town to see.
Flying at his touch, flying at his faith in my abilities, flying with the dizzy joy of loving him.
Those huge hands of his lower me slowly down the front of his body in a dizzying display of strength while the couple in the song croon to each other one last time that they had the time of their lives.
My feet touch the ground, but I still feel like I’m flying when Luke growls, “I’d dance in front of millions to make you happy. You’re all that matters.”
Then he sinks onto one knee, his wings spreading behind him.
My heart leaps into my throat. I can’t think, can’t breathe. Is he going to…?
Luke reaches into his invisible pocket and pulls out a tiny box from Bling It On covered in dark-pink velvet. He opens the lid to show a massive heart-shaped pink sapphire set between smaller diamonds on a lovely gold band.
It’s so amazingly perfectly me that I feel as if he peered into my soul in order to tell the gnomes what to make. But it’s still not as perfect as what comes next.
“Skye, I love you. Will you marry me?”
My aunts gasp louder than anyone else, twin sounds I’d know anywhere, but I can’t look away from the man kneeling in front of me.
Shock locks me in place. I thought I’d become so good at reading his resting grumpy face, but all I did was fool myself into not looking deeper. I can see it now. The warmth of the intensity in his eyes, the softening of his lips.
Luke loves me!
A million fireworks go off in my chest, an explosion of joy brighter than any sun.