Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
T he walk home from Tom’s truck seemed both too long and too short. Ella was acutely aware of his hand in hers, the way their shoulders brushed with each step, how the night air carried the lingering scent of his cologne. Her heart had been doing a complicated dance since dinner, and now, as they approached her porch, it felt ready to leap right out of her chest.
Tom’s presence behind her as she climbed the steps made her fingers fumble with her keys. She turned to face him, and the look in his eyes stole her breath—intense and soft all at once, like she was something precious he couldn’t quite believe was real.
“Thank you for tonight,” she managed. “It was perfect.”
“Even the part where I accidentally knocked over the water glass?”
“Especially that part.” She smiled, remembering how his usual grace had deserted him when she’d brushed her foot against his under the table. “It made me feel better about my own nervous moments.”
“You were nervous?” His voice dropped lower, and he stepped closer. “Here I thought I was the only one.”
“Please. My hands were shaking so much during dessert, I almost stabbed myself with the fork.”
“I noticed.” His thumb traced circles on her palm, sending shivers up her arm. “It was adorable.”
“Adorable?” She tried for indignation, but it was hard to maintain with him looking at her like that.
“Among other things.”
He lifted his free hand to her face, fingertips ghosting along her jaw. The touch was feather-light but sent electricity coursing through her whole body. His eyes dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes, asking permission.
She answered by curling her fingers into his shirt, tugging him closer.
The first brush of his lips against hers was gentle, questioning. Then she made a small sound in the back of her throat, and something in Tom broke loose. His hand slid into her hair as he deepened the kiss, and oh—this was nothing like she’d imagined during all those moments of wondering. This was better.
He tasted like tiramisu and possibility. His warmth surrounded her, solid and real, making her feel both completely safe and thrillingly uncertain. She lost herself in the sensation of his mouth on hers, the steady beat of his heart under her palm, the way he cradled her face like she might disappear if he wasn’t careful.
A deliberate cough from the street made them break apart. Liam MacGregor stood there, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.
“Well now,” he called cheerfully, his accent thicker than usual, “if that isn’t the bonniest sight these old eyes have seen since the Highland Games of 1652!”
Tom dropped his forehead to Ella’s shoulder with a groan. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Ach, you’ll do no such thing,” Liam replied, apparently blessed with supernatural hearing. “Who else would keep you two from dancing around each other for another month?”
“Goodnight, Liam,” Ella called firmly, fighting back laughter at Tom’s muffled cursing.
“Aye, a good night indeed!” He tipped an imaginary hat and continued down the street, whistling what sounded suspiciously like a wedding march.
When he was gone, Tom lifted his head. “I’m so sorry about?—”
Ella cut him off with another kiss, quick and sweet. “Don’t be. It’s... oddly fitting, actually.”
“Having our first kiss crashed by a nosy Scotsman?”
“Having our first kiss witnessed by family.”
Something soft and wonderful bloomed in his eyes. He pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering there. “Goodnight, Ella.”
“Goodnight, Tom.”
Inside, she leaned against her closed door, touching her lips in wonder. Her legs felt wobbly, her skin hummed, and her heart... her heart was doing something entirely new.
This wasn’t like her first kiss with Jacob, all teenage excitement and uncertainty. It wasn’t like any kiss she’d had before. This felt like standing on the edge of something vast and beautiful and slightly terrifying. Like potential and promise and possibility all wrapped up in the taste of coffee and the scent of cologne and the way Tom had looked at her like she was his favorite miracle.
She could hear Liam’s whistling fading into the distance, mixing with the sound of crickets and her own giddy pulse. Tomorrow, the whole town would know. The MacGregors would be insufferable. There would be questions and comments and knowing looks.
But right now, in this moment, all she could think about was how it felt to be kissed like that—like she was precious and desired and worth waiting for. Like something was beginning, something real and true and altogether wonderful.
Her fingers found her pendant, warm from being pressed between them during the kiss. For the first time in years, she felt truly, completely alive. Like she’d been sleepwalking through life and had finally, finally woken up.
“Well,” she told her empty house, “that happened.”
But her smile gave lie to her casual tone. Because that hadn’t just happened—that had changed everything.
And she couldn’t wait to see what came next.
Ella knew something was different the moment she walked into the teacher’s lounge. Farrah and Jordan’s conversation stopped abruptly, replaced by poorly concealed grins. Mrs. Pendleton didn’t even try to hide her knowing smile over her coffee cup.
“Good morning?” Ella ventured, heading for the coffee maker.
“Oh, it certainly is,” Farrah practically bounced in her seat. “A very good morning after what sounds like a very good evening.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But Ella could feel her cheeks warming as she poured her coffee.
“Really?” Jordan raised an eyebrow. “So that wasn’t you and a certain security expert sharing a rather romantic moment on your porch?”
“How could you possibly?—”
“Mrs. Henderson called my mother,” Farrah explained cheerfully, “who texted my sister, who told her yoga instructor, who happens to be my roommate.”
“That was...” Ella checked her watch, “less than twelve hours ago.”
“Small towns,” Mrs. Pendleton said sagely. “Better than Twitter.”
On her way to her classroom, Ella passed three more colleagues who somehow all needed to comment on the weather being “especially romantic” lately. The crossing guard winked at her. Even the cafeteria lady slipped an extra cookie onto her lunch tray with a conspiratorial smile.
By the time she reached Room 23, her face felt permanently flushed. She was organizing her lesson plans when a shadow fell across her desk.
“So,” Principal Hastings said, eyes twinkling, “I hear congratulations are in order.”
“For successfully teaching the water cycle?” Ella tried desperately.
“For finally giving poor Tom Dalton a reason to smile. Do you know he actually whistled during this morning’s security check?”
Before Ella could respond, Zoey appeared in the doorway. “There you are! Liam’s been absolutely unbearable all morning, taking credit for—and I quote—’orchestrating the finest romance since Romeo and Juliet, though with significantly less death and much better timing.’“
“Perfect,” Ella dropped her head onto her desk. “Just perfect.”
“Oh, honey.” Zoey patted her shoulder. “Welcome to life in Harmony Falls. Where everyone knows your business before you do.”
“Is it always like this?”
“Only when something good happens. Or bad. Or mildly interesting. Or?—”
“I get it.”
But despite her embarrassment, Ella couldn’t quite suppress the warm flutter in her chest when she thought about last night. The way Tom had looked at her, how his hands had felt cradling her face, the softness in his eyes before he kissed her...
“You’re glowing again,” Zoey observed.
“Am not.”
“Are too. Your aura’s all sparkly.”
A text buzzed on Ella’s phone: Heard about the kiss! Details NOW! from Bella, followed by approximately thirty heart emojis.
“How did she—” Ella stared at her phone in disbelief.
“I might have messaged her,” Zoey admitted shamelessly. “We’ve been coordinating about your romantic well-being.”
“You’ve been what?”
“Someone had to! You two were obviously perfect for each other, but so stubborn about it.”
Ella wanted to be annoyed, but her heart wasn’t in it. Everything felt too bright, too full of possibility to maintain proper indignation.
Still, as the day progressed and more townspeople found reasons to pass by her classroom with knowing smiles, doubt began creeping in. Was she ready for this? For everyone’s expectations and attention? For the risk of opening her heart again?
During lunch, she escaped to the quiet of the library, needing a moment alone with her thoughts. She found herself touching her pendant, a habit that usually brought comfort.
“Hiding?”
She turned to find Tom in the doorway, looking somewhat harassed himself.
“The MacGregors have been following me around humming wedding marches,” he explained.
“Want company in your exile?”
His smile made her heart skip. “Always.”
As he settled beside her, their hands finding each other naturally, Ella realized something: the gossip, the attention, the whole town’s investment in their happiness—it was worth it. Worth the risk of trying again. Worth the uncertainty of letting herself fall.
Because when Tom looked at her like that, everything else faded away. Even her doubts.
“So,” he said softly, “I hear we’re the talk of the town.”
“Apparently we’re better than Twitter.”
His laugh warmed her whole body. “Want to give them something else to talk about?”
And there, in the quiet of the library with the whole town buzzing about them, he kissed her again. Softer this time, sweeter, but no less full of promise.
Let them talk, Ella thought. Some things were worth a little gossip.