4. Ellie
ELLIE
I spot Julian leaning over the hood of his old Chevy, the muscles in his arms flexing beneath his rolled-up sleeves. “Hey.”
He straightens up, wiping his grease-stained hands with a rag as he turns around. “Hey, stranger.”
“I just wanted to invite you to my sister’s birthday party. Just a little get-together in our backyard. Nothing fancy, just good food, music, and company.”
Julian’s brow furrows. “I don’t know.” He shifts his weight. “I’m not really the party type...”
“Come on, it’ll be fun. No pressure, just a chance to relax and enjoy the evening. Besides, Claire would love to meet you properly. Most people in this town would.”
“Alright, I’ll come. Can’t turn down a chance to try some of that famous Lawson Ridge hospitality, can I?”
“Great! I promise you won’t regret it.”
Three hours later, I am walking through the backyard, and I see Julian.
His tall frame momentarily hesitating as if the barrier between his world and this new one is more than just wrought iron.
His eyes take in the crowd, children darting around with sparklers, tables with homemade dishes, and then me.
“Julian, you made it!”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Come on, I want to introduce you to someone special.” I take his arm and guide him. “Claire, this is Julian. Julian, my sister Claire.”
“Happy birthday, Claire,” Julian offers, extending his hand.
“Thank you! It’s so nice to meet one of Ellie’s friends,” Claire says, shaking his hand.
A slow song starts to play and couples pair off toward the makeshift dance floor. “Care to dance?”
Julian hesitates for a moment. “Sure.”
As we step onto the floor, Julian’s hand lightly touches my back, guiding me through a gentle spin, and when I return to face him, our eyes lock.
His fingers trace the curve of my waist, a touch that anchors me to him. The contact is light, yet it sparks a trail of warmth that dances along my skin, igniting tiny fires in its wake.
The final chord of the song plays, a fragile note. Julian’s arms are still wrapped around me, my head resting just below his chin. Neither of us move to step back, to break the connection.
The applause breaks through our barrier and we step apart, but we only stay apart for a short time.
Julian leans against the wooden fence at the far end of the yard a few minutes later.
“I’m glad you decided to come,” I confess.
“Me too,” Julian admits. His hand hovers near mine, a whisper away from the contact. “You have a way of making a person feel welcome.”
As the music dies down and the last of the guests trickle away, we remain reluctant to sever the thread that had spun around us throughout the evening. The backyard, once alive with celebration, settles into a hush.
“Time really got away from us, huh?”
“Yeah, it did.”
The goodbyes is a pause rather than a full stop; a lingering look, a hesitant step back, a smile that doesn’t quite fade even as Julian turns to walk away.
I lean against the whitewashed porch railing, fingers tracing the grooves in the wood as I watch Julian’s silhouette recede into the twilight.
A strand of hair escapes from its bobby pin clasp, dancing across my face in the gentle wind. I can still feel the pressure of his hand at the small of my back, guiding me through the rhythm of the dance. It had been effortless, the way we moved together.
I shake my head, amazed at how one evening can shift the tectonics of my world. Julian, the newcomer with ink-stained skin and a guarded heart, has slipped past my defenses.
The next morning, as sunlight filters through my curtains, I lie awake, replaying the night before. The memory of his smile.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. Claire.
“So... Julian, huh?” Her voice carries a knowing lilt.
“What about him?” I try to sound casual, but the warmth spreading across my cheeks betrays me, even though she can’t see it.
“Oh, please. I saw you two dancing. The whole town saw you two dancing.”
I groan, pressing my face into the pillow. “Was it that obvious?”
“Like a neon sign in the dark,” she laughs. “But it’s nice, Ellie. You deserve to find someone.”
After hanging up, I dress quickly drawn to the window that overlooks Julian’s front yard. I am not a stalker. Almost on cue, he walks into my line of sight.
Without thinking, I grab my keys and head outside. Julian looks up from beneath the hood of a rusty pickup.
“About last night,” he begins, voice low.
Somehow, without realizing it, I’ve closed the distance between us. “Yes?”
“I haven’t...” he pauses, searching for words. “I haven’t felt that comfortable anywhere in a long time.”
The confession hangs between us, fragile as spun glass. I swallow, suddenly aware of how close we’re standing. “I think everyone liked you.”
“I don’t really care what everyone thought,” Julian says, his eyes never leaving mine. “Just you.”
The confession sends a flutter through my chest. In the morning light, I notice details I missed before—a small scar above his left eyebrow. The way one corner of his mouth lifts slightly higher than the other when he smiles.
“I have to get to work,” I say reluctantly, though my feet refuse to move.
“What time do you finish?”
“Five-thirty.”
Julian nods, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I could pick you up. Maybe we could grab dinner?”
“I’d like that,” I say, trying to contain the smile threatening to take over my face.
Throughout my shift at the library, I catch myself daydreaming, shelving books in the wrong places, and having to apologize to Mrs. Hendricks twice for not hearing her questions. By closing time, my stomach is in knots.
Julian is waiting outside, leaning against his truck. He’s changed into a dark button-down shirt, his hair still damp from a shower. The sight of him makes my breath catch.
“Ready?” he asks, opening the passenger door.
As we drive through town, I’m aware of the curious glances from pedestrians. In Lawson Ridge, nothing stays private for long.
“You know,” Julian says, keeping his eyes on the road, “this is the first time I’ve taken someone to dinner in years.”
“Really? Why me?”
He’s quiet for a moment. “You didn’t look at me like I was an outsider. You just... saw me.”