Chapter seven
Holly
I wake up wrapped around Luke like a koala, his heartbeat thumping steadily under my ear, his hand possessively cupping my bare ass.
For exactly three seconds, everything is perfect.
Then reality slams into me like a freight train made of guilt, deadlines, and self-preservation.
The wedding is tomorrow, and the rehearsal dinner is tonight.
I check my phone for an update. Guests are pouring in by the hour. The cake is frosted, the barn is perfect. The string quartet is on its way, and I am the hired help who spent the week screwing the best man in every room with a flat surface.
I ease out of bed without waking him, grab yesterday’s clothes off the floor, and tiptoe to the bathroom. The reflection in the mirror shows sex hair, beard burn on my neck, and a hickey the size of Texas just above my left breast. I look like a very enthusiastic cowboy has mauled me.
Which… accurate.
I splash cold water on my face until the panic recedes to a manageable roar, pull my hair into the tightest knot known to man, and march out to do what I do best: pretend I have my shit together.
Luke is still asleep, one arm flung over the spot I vacated, sheet riding low enough to show the V of muscle that makes my mouth water. I force myself to look away and bolt before I do something stupid like crawl back in and beg him to ruin me all over again.
The ranch is chaos in the best way. Trucks unloading floral arrangements, cousins hauling coolers of champagne, Frankie running around in Rhett’s flannel and cowboy boots like a caffeinated fairy. I dive in headfirst with my clipboard and headset, zero personal feelings allowed.
I do not avoid Luke exactly. I just never quite manage to be in the same area as him.
I’m adjusting the placement of the ceremony arch when I spot him across the yard, laughing with a group of groomsmen. He’s wearing a black Henley that should be illegal and a smile that makes my knees weak. Our eyes meet for half a second. He starts toward me.
I turn on my heel and power-walk into the barn like my life depends on it.
Coward…thy name is Holly.
The morning dissolves into a blur of final touches. I play seating chart Tetris, handle sound-check disasters, and handle last-minute dietary substitutions. By noon, I’m running on caffeine and adrenaline, exactly how I like it.
I’m in the farmhouse kitchen, double-checking the rehearsal-dinner menu, when the front door bangs open and a voice like honey over gravel says, “Luke Carson, you get your fine ass over here and hug me.”
I look up and my stomach drops straight through the floorboards.
The woman standing in the doorway is tall, tanned, and built like a Victoria’s Secret angel who moonlights as a rodeo queen.
Dark blonde hair in perfect waves, legs for days in painted-on jeans, red flannel tied high enough to show a navel ring.
She launches herself at Luke, who has just walked in, and he catches her out of reflex, arms around her waist as she wraps around him like ivy.
“Missed you, baby,” she says, loud enough for the entire room to hear.
Baby.
I grip my pen so hard it snaps.
Luke sets her down fast, hands on her shoulders to keep distance. “Lauren, I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Couldn’t miss Rhett’s big day.” She smiles up at him, all white teeth and history. “Besides, someone has to check on you. Heard you’ve been keeping real interesting company.”
Her eyes slide to me like she already knew exactly where I was standing.
Frankie appears at my elbow, voice low. “That’s Lauren Hayes, the ranch’s next-door neighbor. Dated Luke for two years in high school, another year after college. Everyone thought they’d get married.”
Of course they did.
Luke’s jaw is tight. “Lauren, this is Holly Jameson. Wedding planner.”
Lauren turns the full wattage of her smile on me. “Oh, I’ve heard all about you.” She looks me up and down, at my filthy boots, jeans, and messy knot of hair. Her smile sharpens. “Cute.”
I want to die.
Luke steps between us like a shield. “Lauren, rehearsal starts in an hour. You’re sitting with the rest of the Hayes family.”
Lauren laughs, bright and fake. “Yes, sir.” She reaches up, brushes imaginary lint off his shoulder, fingers lingering. “See you tonight, baby.”
She saunters out, hips swinging. The kitchen goes dead silent. I realize I’m shaking.
Luke turns to me, voice low. “Holly—”
“I have to check the string lights,” I blurt, and bolt before he can finish.
I spend the rest of the afternoon hiding in plain sight. Directing centerpieces, timing the quartet, triple-checking the heat lamps. Every time Luke gets within ten feet, I find a new emergency that requires my immediate attention.
By five o’clock, I’m a raw nerve. I’m on a ladder adjusting the fairy lights over the head table when I hear boots on rungs below me.
“Holly.”
I don’t look down. “Busy.”
“Get down here.”
“Later.”
“Now.”
I climb down slowly, turn, and there he is, close enough that I can smell pine and snow and him.
“Talk to me,” he says quietly.
“Nothing to talk about.”
“Bullshit.” He steps closer. “You’ve been running from me all day.”
“I’ve been working.”
“Holly.”
I hug my clipboard like body armor. “Look, it was fun. Really fun. Possibly the best sex of my life. But tomorrow the wedding happens, the day after, I drive back to Denver, and we go back to our separate lives. That was always the plan.”
His eyes darken. “Plans change.”
“Not mine.”
He flinches, just a flicker, but I see it.
I swallow hard. “Lauren seems nice and convenient. Same world, same history. You don’t have to explain anything to her.”
He stares at me like I just slapped him. “You think I want Lauren?”
“I think you deserve someone who fits here,” I say, and my voice cracks on the last word. “I’m a city girl with a five-year plan and a business that doesn’t run on ranch time. This was a blizzard-induced fever dream, Luke. That’s all.”
He opens his mouth, then closes it without saying a word.
I force a smile that feels like glass. “I’ve got a rehearsal dinner to run. See you at six.”
I walk away before he can see the tears.
The rest of the night is flawless on the outside with laughter, toasts, twinkle lights, Grandma’s prime rib that makes grown men cry. I smile, I direct, I keep everything moving like clockwork.
Inside, I’m dying.
Luke sits at the family table, jaw tight, barely touching his food. Lauren is two seats down, leaning toward him every chance she gets. He doesn’t lean back, but he doesn’t move away either.
I tell myself it doesn’t matter. It was just sex. I tell myself a lot of lies.
When the dinner ends and the guests drift toward the bonfire, I slip away to the barn to do one final check. The space is ready for the wedding. The chairs are in perfect rows, and the ceremony arch is draped in pine and fairy lights.
I stand in the aisle and let myself imagine, just for a second, walking down the aisle toward Luke.
I shut the fantasy down hard. I’m halfway through my third deep, pathetic breath when the barn door creaks open.
Luke steps inside, snowflakes melting in his hair, hands in his coat pockets. I freeze. He closes the door and leans against it.
“I sent Lauren home,” he says quietly.
I blink. “What?”
“Told her if she couldn’t respect you, she wasn’t welcome.” His eyes find mine across the candlelit aisle. “Told her there’s only one woman I want, and she’s currently making sure my brother and Frankie have their dream wedding.”
My throat closes.
He takes one step down the aisle. “I don’t want someone who fits because she’s from here. I want someone who fits because she’s you.”
Another step.
“I don’t care about your five-year plan or Denver or any of it. I care about the way you laugh when you let yourself, the way you fight for perfect even when the world’s falling apart, the way you say my name.”
Another step.
He’s close enough now that I can see the snow melting on his lashes. “I’m not asking you to stay forever,” he says. “I’m asking you to stay long enough to see if this is real, because it sure as hell feels real to me.”
I stare at him, tears spilling over before I can stop them. He closes the distance, cups my face in cold hands, thumbs brushing the tears away.
“Tell me to walk away, Holly. Say the word and I will.”
I open my mouth. The only thing that comes out is his name, broken and desperate.
He kisses me like it’s the only thing keeping him alive, and for the first time in my adult life, I stop planning and just let myself fall.