Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Audra
It’s been two weeks since I became Reese’s fake fiancée, and I’m losing my mind.
Not because of the deception—I’ve managed more complex events with more difficult personalities. Not because of the logistics—the wedding planning is actually oddly soothing, even if it’s for a wedding that will never happen.
No, I’m losing my mind because I can’t stop thinking about kissing him.
Real kissing. Not the chaste pecks for show, not the cheek kisses that have become our nightly ritual. I want to kiss him the way I wanted to that night before graduation, when we were sitting on the dock behind his fraternity house and he looked at me like I was his whole world.
“You’re staring,” Cosmo says through my laptop screen. I finally convinced him to let me have one video call to prove I haven’t been murdered by mountain men.
“I’m thinking.”
“You’re staring at Hot Lodge Guy. He’s literally right behind you.”
I turn to see Reese through the window, helping a new guest with their luggage. The afternoon sun hits his face just right, highlighting the jaw that should be illegal in most states.
“His name is Reese.”
“Reese the—” Cosmo stops mid-sentence, his eyes widening. “Holy shit, is that a ring on your finger?”
I look down at the grandmother’s ring I’ve gotten used to wearing. My stomach drops. I forgot to take it off before the call.
“Cosmo—”
“You’re ENGAGED? You’ve been there TWO WEEKS and you’re ENGAGED?”
“It’s not—” I stop. I can’t tell him it’s fake. If Bernard investigates, if he calls my business partner, Cosmo needs to believe this is real. “It just happened.”
“Just happened? Audra Gabriel doesn’t let things ‘just happen.’ You plan what you’re going to plan!”
“I know, but—”
“Wait, is this the Cornell guy? The one from that photo you keep in your desk?”
“You went through my desk?”
“I was looking for stamps. Don’t change the subject,” he says. “You reconnected with your college crush and got engaged in two weeks?”
“When you put it like that—”
“It sounds insane? Because it IS insane. Gloriously, romantically, un-Audra-like insane.” He leans closer to the camera. “Oh my god, you’re in love with him.”
“Cosmo—”
“You are! You have that look,” he exclaims. “The same one you had when you talked about him at that wine bar three years ago. Remember? You had four glasses of rosé and spent an hour telling me about ‘the one who got away.’”
“I was drunk.”
“In vino veritas, babe.” He studies me through the screen. “Does he make you happy?”
The question catches me off guard. I think about the morning coffees, the evening walks, the way Reese looks at me when he thinks I’m not watching.
“Yes,” I whisper, and it’s not a lie.
“Then that’s all that matters,” he says, his expression turning serious. “But Audra, two weeks? Are you sure?”
“We’ve known each other for thirteen years.”
“You haven’t SEEN each other for ten.”
“I know.” I twist the ring, a gesture that’s become habit. “I know it’s fast. I know it seems crazy. But being here, being with him... it feels right.”
Cosmo is quiet for a moment. “You’re not coming back to New York, are you?”
“What? Of course I am. I mean...” I falter. The plan is to stage a breakup after the summer. But looking at the ring, thinking about leaving... “I don’t know.”
“Well, when you figure it out, let me know. I’ll need to update our business structure if you’re going to run events from the mountains.” He pauses. “And Audra? Congratulations. Even if you’re being absolutely insane, you seem... lighter. Happier.”
“Thanks, Cosmo.”
“I should go,” I tell him. “We have a thing tonight.”
“A thing?”
“The Midsummer Festival. Local tradition.”
“Your first public outing as an engaged couple?”
“Something like that,” I reply.
“Wear the green dress.”
“What green dress?”
“The one you panic-bought last year and never wore because it showed too much feeling,” he says.
“That doesn’t even make sense.” Although something did make me throw it into my suitcase.
“Wear it anyway,” Cosmo insists. “If you’re going to be engaged to Mountain Man, you might as well look devastating.”
He hangs up, leaving me staring at my laptop. The weight of the lie sits heavy on my chest. Cosmo, my best friend in the business world, thinks I’m really engaged.
But the scariest part? When he asked if Reese makes me happy, I didn’t have to lie at all.
The green dress is hanging in the wardrobe, brought on a whim when I packed. It’s silk, the color of forest shadows, and clings in ways that my usual professional wear doesn’t.
I’m not wearing it.
Three hours later, I’m wearing it.
“Wow,” Taylor says when I come downstairs. “That’s... wow.”
“Too much?” I tug at the hem. “I can change—”
“Don’t you dare.” She grins wickedly. “Reese’s outside. Fair warning: he might swallow his tongue.”
She’s not entirely wrong. When I step onto the porch, Reese turns from where he’s been pacing, and his expression shifts through about seven different emotions before landing on something that makes my stomach flip.
“Hi,” I manage.
“Hi,” he breathes. Then, recovering: “You look beautiful.”
“Ground rule number three,” I remind him, but there’s no heat in it.
“Screw rule three.” He offers his arm. “Ready to convince the town we’re madly in love?”
The problem is, I don’t have to convince anyone of anything.
Walking through the festival with Reese feels as natural as breathing.
He knows without asking that I want to avoid the crowded beer tent, steers me instead toward the local artists’ booths.
He remembers I love honey lavender anything and buys me ice cream without prompting.
When the band starts playing and couples begin dancing, he pulls me onto the makeshift floor without hesitation.
“I don’t remember you being a dancer,” I say as he spins me expertly.
“Taylor made me take lessons. Said it would be good for business.”
“Was it?”
“It’s good for this.” His hand spreads warm against my back, pulling me closer.
We’re in public. People are watching. This is all for show.
But the way he’s looking at me doesn’t feel like show.
“Reese,” I whisper.
“I know,” he says softly. “I know we have rules. I know this is temporary. I know all of it. But right now, can we just...”
“Just what?”
“Just dance?”
So we do. Song after song, the festival swirling around us, and I let myself pretend this is real. That we’re actually engaged, actually planning our future, actually as in love as we’re pretending to be.
When the band finally takes a break, we wander to the edge of the festival, where the noise fades and fireflies dance in the gathering dark.
“This is nice,” I say, unconsciously echoing my words from the dock last week.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it keeps being true.”
We’re walking without destination now, away from the lights, toward the lake that seems to feature in all our important moments.
“Can I ask you something?” Reese says suddenly.
“Always.”
“That night before graduation. When we were on the dock...”
My heart stops. “What about it?”
“Were you going to kiss me?”
The question hangs between us like a held breath. I could lie, maintain the fiction that we were only ever friends. Instead, I tell the truth.
“Yes.”
He stops walking. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because you were going to Goldman Sachs. I was going to that startup. We had plans, paths that didn’t intersect. And I thought...” I swallow hard. “I thought if I kissed you, I’d never be able to leave.”
“Audra—”
“Why didn’t you kiss me?” I counter.
“Same reason.” He steps closer. “I was terrified that if I started, I’d never stop.”
We’re standing so close now I can feel the heat from his body, smell the cedar and sunshine scent of him.
“Reese,” I breathe. “The rules—”
“Fuck the rules.”
And then he’s kissing me, really kissing me, the kiss we should have had ten years ago. His hands frame my face, thumb brushing my cheek, and I melt into him completely. This isn’t practice, isn’t for show. This is years of want finally finding expression.
When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“That was—”
“Against the rules,” I finish.
“Very against the rules.”
“We should probably—”
“Definitely.”
But neither of us moves. Then, by mutual unspoken agreement, we’re kissing again, deeper this time, his hands in my hair, mine fisted in his shirt.
“Take me home,” I whisper against his mouth.
“Audra, are you sure—”
“Take me home, Reese.”
The walk back is charged with anticipation. We don’t speak, don’t touch, but the air between us crackles. At the lodge, we bypass the main entrance, Reese leading me around to his private quarters—a space I’ve never seen.
“If you want to stop—” he begins as he unlocks his door.
I silence him with a kiss. “I don’t want to stop. I want this. I want you.”
His room is exactly what I expected—warm wood, bookshelves, a large bed with a quilt that looks handmade. But I’m not cataloging details. I’m focused on the way he’s looking at me, reverent and hungry simultaneously.
“I’ve thought about this,” he admits, voice rough. “Is that wrong?”
“Only if it’s wrong that I’ve thought about it too.”
His room is a quiet haven of cedar and old books, exactly the kind of sanctuary I should have expected. But there’s no time to catalog the details because he’s looking at me like I’m both the answer and the question, and I’m losing myself in the heat of his gaze.
“I’ve thought about this,” he admits, voice rough. “More than I should.”
“Only if it’s wrong that I’ve thought about it too.”
The admission hangs between us, a spark in the charged air. He closes the distance, his hands finding my waist, the calluses on his palms a delicious friction against the silk of my dress. “All those years,” he whispers, his thumb tracing circles on my side. “What if we—”
“No regrets,” I say firmly, my voice steadier than I feel. “Not tonight. Tonight is just us. No past, no future, just now.”