Chapter Thirty-Two
ELLIE
Glamma’s lawn looked like the setting of a vintage summer postcard.
The big stone mansion perched above the lake glowed in the late-afternoon light looking more like a castle than the everyday home it was.
Beyond it stretched wide areas of grass lined with rose gardens and winding hedges, now dotted with lawn games of every size.
Croquet wickets arched around the flowerbeds, giant Jenga towers teetered on picnic tables, cornhole boards gleamed with fresh paint, and a tug-of-war rope coiled near the dock like it was waiting for a battle.
Glamma had, of course, arranged for cocktails, iced tea, and silver trays of hors d’oeuvres to be set out beneath striped awnings.
This was not a casual backyard hangout.
I leaned closer to Drew as we walked down the back stone steps. “This is incredible.”
“It’s really not. She just has a storage shed full of this stuff and loved the chance to drag it all out,” Drew murmured.
I swatted at his arm, grinning. “Don’t ruin this for me. I’ve never been to an event this swanky before.”
“We should’ve just told your sister she wasn’t invited and had everyone else,” he said dryly.
Last night, after I stormed out of Axe-hole, Celia texted and called repeatedly until I picked up. Her voice sugary-sweet, dripping with apologies and begging me to forgive her. I had no doubt the cameras were rolling on her end—she probably practiced her puffy-eyed close-up in the mirror first.
So I told her I forgave her. I said we’d let her event at Glamma’s go on as planned.
The truth was, it wasn’t for Celia’s sake. It was for Glamma, who had already put more effort into this party than my sister deserved. Canceling on her last-minute would’ve felt like I was punishing the wrong person.
I shrugged, forcing a lightness I didn’t feel. “Guess I’m a sucker for sweet old ladies.”
Celia arrived at that moment with Kyle swaggering at her side, already angling toward the cameras, like they were hosting their own royal coronation.
“Welcome darlings!” Glamma’s voice rang out across the lawn. She swept down the steps in a wide-brimmed sunhat, sparkling sunglasses, and a caftan that looked like a disco ball had a baby with a peacock. Coco trotted at her heels, wearing a rhinestone collar.
“It’s such an honor to be here,” Celia gushed, spinning in her sundress. “The Kingsley home is stunning. I’m so lucky.”
I nearly choked on the lemonade I just picked up from a passing server. Lucky? Please.
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Drew murmured, low enough for just me to hear. His thumb stroked over the back of my hand.
My heart went soft and melty, like ice cream left sitting out in the bright sun.
“Honor?” Glamma repeated with a serene smile, tilting her glass of champagne. “My darling, the honor is usually reserved for people who show up on time—not thirty minutes late—to their own events.”
The crowd tittered.
Kyle’s face flamed red.
Celia laughed a little too brightly, and the cameras panned toward me as though waiting for me to crack. I lifted my chin and held tighter to Drew’s hand, letting the warmth of his skin remind me I didn’t need to rise to the bait.
“Shall we begin?” Glamma clapped her jeweled hands together. “Cornhole first!”
Kyle pumped his fist and cheered, all fake bravado. “Yes! Let’s get this party started. I’m the king of lawn games, so watch and learn, everyone.”
I swear I heard a few people snort at once.
“Ellie, we must play together,” Celia’s wide grin put me on edge. “You and Drew against me and Kyle.”
At least I didn’t need to be on her team. We broke off into groups of four and spread out among the cornhole games set up.
Kyle grabbed a beanbag and pulled his arm back like he was pitching a fastball. “I’ll go first. Set the bar.”
He launched it. The bag sailed straight into the hydrangeas.
I laughed, not even bothering to hide it.
“Must’ve been the wind,” Kyle muttered.
“There is no wind,” Drew said mildly, and sent his beanbag arching clean through the hole.
I cupped my hands around my mouth, “That’s my man!”
Drew’s grin was wide, his eyes locked on mine. Kyle, on the other hand, scowled so hard I thought his face might crack.
“Best two out of three,” he grumbled.
Three games later, Drew had quietly sunk every bag, and Kyle even had managed to hit the refreshment table.
Twice.
Next, we moved on to Jenga. This time people were discreetly—and not so discreetly—watching the four of us. Drew wasn’t strutting or boasting, but somehow his calm made Kyle look more unhinged as we took turns removing the wooden blocks from the tower.
“Steady hands make for steady wins,” Wyatt called from the sidelines, earning himself a glare from Kyle.
Grace snorted into her champagne. She and Wyatt had snuck in and were our unofficial hecklers. I loved them even more for their support—and snarky commentary.
I leaned toward Drew, teasing, “Are your hands steady?”
“Always, unless I’m touching you.” His finger trailed down over my hip.
Thank God it wasn’t my turn. I’d have fumbled it for sure.
Kyle ruined the moment. He yanked out a block dramatically, nearly toppling the tower. Then he raised his arms in victory and puffed out his chest at the camera.
Drew stepped up, calm and steady, sliding a block free as if he were carefully setting a diamond into a ring. Half the bridal party cheered for him.
Celia went next and gave us a triumphant grin when she succeeded in pulling out a piece. She jumped into Kyle’s arms and squealed.
I went next, and my stomach was in knots. Don’t knock it over, I silently prayed, willing my hands not to shake as I pulled out a wooden block.
Drew’s quiet encouragement steadied my hand. “You’ve got this, buttercup.” I focused on his gentle words of support and did my best to tune out the huffs coming from my mother in the background. I’m sure once again she thought I was trying to steal the show.
The tower leaned, right, then left, then settled with a little shimmy.
“Yeah, babe!” Drew yelled out and hugged me. “I knew you could do it.”
I reached up and tugged his face down to mine. “Thank you.”
He grinned, his hands going to my waist. His lips met mine, and the game and Kyle’s antics were forgotten as his tongue swept into my mouth and made me moan.
It wasn’t until I heard Kyle swearing that I even realized he’d taken his turn and had knocked down the tower.
Coco barked, grabbed a block, and took off with Grace right behind her, trying to get it back.
Kyle glared at me as though him losing was all my fault.
“Who’s ready for some ladder toss?” Glamma stood up from her blinged-up lawn chair where she’d been sitting, sipping her champagne under a shade umbrella.
“This one’s mine,” Kyle announced, strutting over to the ladder toss setup. “Played it every summer. I never lose.” For once, he wasn’t wrong. I’d seen him play this game many times during the two summers we were together.
“Why don’t we let the boys play?” Celia suggested. By the bored expression on her face, I knew she was ready to be done with the lawn games. This day must have been her concession to Kyle and him getting at least one thing he wanted during their wedding planning.
Kyle picked up the bola, two balls tied together with a string, and threw it with the precision of a professional. It wrapped around the top rung.
Three points.
I wanted to smack the smug smile off his face.
Drew went next, and tossed his bola gently, without aiming—and it looped around the middle rung.
Two points.
“Go Drew!” I shouted and threw up my hand for a high-five.
Kyle’s eyes narrowed and he spun around. His gaze landed on Celia, who’d wandered off with a few of her friends. With a heavy exhale, Kyle took his turn.
Bottom rung.
One measly point.
Drew’s next throw wrapped the top rung, earning him three points and the lead. Wyatt and Grace began chanting, “Drew! Drew!” and Kyle grumbled about them being a distraction.
Each time Kyle was up, his tosses grew wilder and his face turned redder.
Drew won by a landslide and I couldn’t help but feel vindicated. It didn’t matter that by winning the lawn games it didn’t erase Kyle’s cheating, but it knocked him down a peg or two and that was a good enough start.
And now Celia was nowhere to be found.
After a quick snack break, we headed to a more open part of the lawn.
“Who’s up for an oldie but a goodie?” Glamma asked. “Three-legged race.”
I groaned.
Kyle eyed Celia who was slowly making her way back. “Ellie should run with me. For old times’ sake.”
I stiffened.
I didn’t want Kyle anywhere near me.
Drew didn’t miss a beat. He stepped forward, eyes sharp. “She’s with me.”
Kyle yelled at Celia to hurry up, shooting us a glare filled with malice.
“We’re going to fall flat on our faces,” I said as Drew tied our ankles together.
He smirked. “I’ll cushion your fall every time.”
This man!
Glamma shot off a toy gun to begin the race, and this time, everyone but her and my parents participated.
Drew and I stumbled at first—laughing, breathless—but then we found a rhythm. I leaned into him, he steadied me, and suddenly we were flying. We crossed the finish line seconds after Kyle and Celia.
But I didn’t care that we didn’t win. We were able to laugh at ourselves and work together which is more than I could say for my sister and her fiance.
Drew kissed my flushed cheek. “Told you we’d be fine.”
We collapsed into a heap while Celia berated Kyle about all the ways he could have done better to improve their time. When our mother finally caught her attention and motioned towards the cameras, Celia quickly shut her mouth.
“Celia, let’s go freshen up,” Mom reached for her and the two marched off.
Dad stood by awkwardly, trying to make small talk with me and Drew. He’d been here for two days and this was the first time he’d said much of anything to me.
“Ellie,” he started. “You know you could have more grace with Kyle and Celia. It is their party.”