Chapter Twenty-Six
DREW
The bed dipped with an enthusiastic bounce.
“Drew! It’s time to get up!”
Ellie’s voice broke through the deep sleep I’d succumbed to after the most incredible love-making marathon; we’d gone at it until nearly dawn.
Three rounds of sex tended to knock a man out cold.
Though not Ellie, apparently.
“Five more minutes,” I muttered with a groan, dragging an arm over my face.
She ignored me, prying my arm away to pepper my face with kisses. “Nope. Today’s special, and I’m not missing one second of it.”
“We can miss the opening ceremony.” I hid my smirk beneath my arm.
Her gasp of outrage was so indignant it made me laugh. She jabbed mercilessly into the ticklish spot under my ribs, and I howled with laughter.
“You’re not fighting fair, buttercup!”
“Exactly the point.” She flopped down against me, still giggling. Her hair tickled my chest and she smelled of apples and soap. I pulled her in tighter to breathe her in.
“This is my favorite way to wake up,” I murmured.
“Mmm, me too.” She snuggled in closer.
“You showered without me.” I grumbled.
Ellie popped up on one elbow, nearly crushing my bicep. “Get uuuuup-puh!”
I cracked open one eye. “Not until I get a kiss. Like that cursed princess, it’s the only thing that’ll wake me.”
Her lips pressed to mine, quick and sweet. But not nearly enough. I caught her hips before she could move and rolled her on top of me. She shrieked, clutching my shoulders as her thighs fell naturally around my waist.
Bad idea. My body was already interested. So was hers, judging by the soft moan she didn’t hold back.
“I need to be strong enough for both of us,” she huffed, wiggling just enough to make us both gasp.
“What about a quickie?” I asked, half pleading, half joking.
She shook her head. We both knew if we started, we’d never crawl out of bed.
Reluctantly, I pressed a lingering kiss to her lips and sat up. “Good morning, beautiful.”
Her cheeks flushed, and her “Morning,” came out breathless enough to make me want to drag her back down to the bed with me.
“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready,” I promised.
“Perfect. I’ll make us breakfast burritos to eat on the way.”
I kissed her forehead—the habit had become comforting and grounding. “You know there are about a hundred food vendors waiting for us, right?”
She squealed, bouncing. “Oh, my God! I forgot. Doughboys, fried Oreos—Do you think they’ll have fried pickles? I need to check my fanny pack to make sure I put my money in there.”
I chuckled. “Babe. I’ve got it.”
Her head jerked up at this new term of affection. My chest tightened.
That wasn’t fake-boyfriend talk, and we both knew it.
I cleared my throat. “Everyone here assumes I’ll pay. Glamma would roast me if I didn’t. You’d be saving me from public humiliation.”
Ellie arched her brow. “We’ll see.”
I grinned. Challenge accepted.
The shuttle dropped us off at the Town Common, where the residents of Ruby River were already buzzing. The air carried the warm, greasy perfume of kettle corn, fried dough, and cider. Booths ringed the gazebo like a patchwork quilt of color.
Small business owners and neighbors hustled through last-minute prep.
The Millers stacked honey jars into a pyramid they’d definitely regret if the wind picked up.
Sam Johnson coaxed his old cider press into cooperation, swearing at it loud enough to make a kid giggle.
The Lewis twins argued at full volume about scarf placement while customers, already lined up, waited patiently to shop.
Ellie squeezed my hand as she turned in a slow circle, her face shining. Seeing it all fresh through her eyes made me remember what I loved about this day.
“Drew Kingsley!” a female voice boomed. Old Mrs. Fawcett ambled over from her jam booth. “You finally brought a girl. Thought maybe you were holding out for the mayor.”
Ellie snorted.
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Morning, Mrs. Fawcett.”
She winked at Ellie. “He’s a handful. Good luck.” Then she bustled off, cackling. I didn’t have the heart to tell her she’d likely confused me for Wyatt.
At nine o’clock sharp, our mayor’s mic squealed, earning a collective groan. It happened every time Everly Grant used a microphone and while we all expected it, it was still startling.
Mom and Dad appeared, their hands brushing together the way they always did.
“Ellie!” Mom swooped in with a hug that nearly lifted her off her feet. “I was hoping to see you today.”
My girl blinked at me, unsure how to handle the affection, but before I could respond, Mom already had her tucked under her arm and began interrogating her about attending the next family dinner.
Dad handed her a cider donut before she could protest, the dusting of sugar floating to land on the sleeve of her top. “There. Now you’re officially part of the family.”
Ellie laughed, licking the sugar off her lip. She wasn’t just fitting in—
She belonged.
Grace arrived a few minutes later with flowers tucked into her hair, and pulled Ellie into a rapid-fire conversation about which vendors were worth the hype. Within minutes, they were laughing like they’d been friends for years.
Then, the crowd parted as if a special guest had arrived.
Of course. Glamma.
She swept in wearing a sequined ruby–red pantsuit with Coco in one arm, paw raised like a queen’s wave. Vendors paused mid-sales and set-up to cheer and call out greetings.
“Glamma!” Someone in the crowd yelled out.
She waved. “Hello my loves!” Then she held Coco higher. “Say hi, sweet girl.”
Coco barked once.
Beside me, Ellie clutched her stomach, laughing hard. “Does she make such a grand entrance every year?”
“Every event,” I corrected.
“God, I love her,” Ellie whispered, awe in her voice.
“And I love you, dear Ellie.” Glamma shifted closer. “Don’t forget to fill out your wish scroll and get your flowers to float on the river.”
“Flowers? Wish scrolls?” Ellie’s eyes lit up. “Could this get any better?”
I knew her little notebook was tucked in the purse draped across her body. She’d been kidding about the fanny pack, but this was a close second to one.
Mom chuckled. “Yes, towards the end of the night, we release flowers into the river to set a positive intention for ourselves and our loved ones and to commemorate the town’s founding.”
“The scrolls are a place for everyone to write their secret wishes on, and then we tie them to a tree.” Dad’s gaze slid to Mom. “The year I wished to catch Laura’s eye, it worked.”
“It certainly did.” Mom chuckled. “Although, it was more of what he did that drew me to him.” Her eyes went soft at the memory.
“Robert is a tad clumsy. When he tied his wish to the tree, he stepped back, tripped, and tumbled right into the river. I helped pull him out, along with our friends. And that night, we huddled together under a blanket so he could stay warm.”
“She only thinks it wasn’t on purpose.” Dad winked.
“And then you saw the river change color?” Ellie asked, her voice dreamy.
“We did.” Mom squeezed her a little tighter. “But even without the color changing, I knew I’d found my one. What he didn’t know is that I’d had a crush on him for months, but had no idea how to approach the school’s golden boy. So we sat on the bench … ”
“While I dried off, talking about anything and everything. And after that night … ”
“Our lives were never the same.” Mom finished with a smile.
“That’s so romantic,” Ellie whispered.
“I’ll show you romance! Join me and the girls on the River Walk tour later,” Glamma winked, pulling Ellie and Grace into a conversation.
Mom, having had to cede Ellie to Glamma, moved to my side. “She’s a keeper,” she said, soft enough for only me to hear.
I gave a short nod.
My mother was a thousand percent right. And if I was ready for a relationship, Ellie would be the person I’d want.
“Don’t overthink it, Drew.” Mom patted my arm. “Maybe it’s time to step back and prioritize your happiness over your work for once.”
I scowled. “I’m so close to finalizing the expansion. It will put Kingsley Jewelry on the map.”
“Living to work is no life, sweetheart,” she reminded me.
I narrowed my gaze.
“It’s not an all or nothing, Drew. You can have love and a successful career.”
This was not a new conversation between us. But this time, I had a question for her.
“Then why did you stop working at KJ?” I asked. Mom had worked with the design team and had been one of their best. I never understood how she gave that up to be home with me and my siblings.
She spoke firmly and held my gaze. “Because while I enjoyed creating iconic pieces, it didn’t feed my soul.
You know that I believe women can have it all, and they should, but when I had you, I realized that I wanted to be home.
It felt right for me. And that’s all I want for you all. To be able to do what feels right.”
Why had we never talked about this?
I’d just assumed it was a generational thing, and that she’d stayed home because it was expected. That she’d given up her dreams so Dad could work and she could run the house.
The microphone squealed again, making half the crowd wince and clap their hands over their ears.
“Sorry everyone. Technical difficulties.” The mayor clutched her hands together like a schoolgirl at a spelling bee. “This is such an exciting day for me. I’ve always loved Ruby River’s yearly celebration, and to have a hand in planning this day is a dream come true.”
Everyone clapped politely, but old man Jenkins muttered loud enough for the front row to hear, “Dream come true would be if she learned how to hold a microphone without killing us all.”
I leaned down to Ellie. “We take our civic duty very seriously here—especially when it involves eardrums.”
She slid an arm around my waist. Her giggle bubbled against my chest. “I can’t wait to see what happens when she tries to announce the pie-eating contest.”
“It’s why we have paramedics on standby.” I pointed to the small group of uniformed men and women standing by an ambulance and medical tent.
Onstage, Everly soldiered on. “The Kingsley family not only helped found our town, but they have continued to support us in every way possible.” She beamed at our group.
“And Glamma has made my transition to my role as mayor easier than I could have imagined. We all know she has a hand in every aspect of Ruby River.”
I snort-laughed as Glamma again waved at the crowd.
A few people yelled out, “Glamma! We love you!”
Glamma blew kisses. “I love you all more!” she trilled, blowing kisses, nearly losing her oversized hat in the process. Coco barked and half the crowd clapped like she’d just given a campaign speech.
Ellie whispered in my ear. “I think I want to be her when I grow up.”
I tightened my arm around her shoulders, inhaling the crisp fall air, her apple scent, and the fried dough perfume drifting from Food Row. A dangerous combination—comfort, chaos, Ellie.
Once the applause died down, Everly picked up the story again.
“And for the other reason we celebrate—the legend of Ruby River. ‘Long ago, when the world was quieter and love had to hide, two forbidden lovers met at the edge of the river. She wore a ruby necklace, a gift from her family. He had nothing to offer but his heart … ’”
The crowd hushed, leaning in. A few teenage boys at the back pretended to gag, but their girlfriends smacked them into silence. Ellie’s eyes went soft and dreamy, and her arm tightened around my waist as the story wound around rubies, vows, and shimmering water.
When the mayor delivered her closing line—“My wish for each of you is to find that kind of love”—a cheer rippled through the crowd.
Ellie winked. “Does it count if I’ve already found it?”
My throat tightened. Joke. It had to be a joke. Except her eyes held mine, wide and shining, until she ruined it with, “I mean … those doughboys. Nothing like ‘em!”
I groaned. “You’re killing me.”
She laughed, triumphant.
“Food then?” I asked, rubbing my cheek against her hair.
Her stomach rumbled in response. “Guess my belly’s making the choice for me.”
We strolled with my family, sampling just about everything the booths had to offer. Mom pretended she couldn’t finish her caramel apple and handed it off to Dad, who bit into it and polished it off in record time.
Grace dragged Ellie into a ring toss game and shouted louder than the teenagers playing next to them.
It was chaos—noisy and perfect.
Until it wasn’t.
A ripple went through the crowd near the gazebo. Pointing. Whispering. Heads turning.
Ellie stiffened against me.
My hand slid protectively to the small of her back. “What is it?”
She didn’t answer, her eyes locked on the growing commotion as the color drained from her face.
The laughter and chatter of the festival dulled, replaced by the murmurs of surprise. The kind that always meant trouble was about to break through the charm of small-town perfection.
And this time, it held a familiar name.