Chapter 18
We managed to land the best seat in the house, out on the terrace, overlooking glacier-fed waters that gleam gold beneath the last bit of sunlight. The Rockies rise in jagged peaks, the warm night air carrying that crisp bite only early mountain summers can hold.
It’s one hell of a view, but none of it holds a candle to the woman sitting across from me.
Harlow’s gaze drifts over the terrace, slow and deliberate, as if she’s trying to capture every detail and lock it away. “Man, these views are incredible,” she murmurs, a note of awe lacing her voice.
“They are,” I agree, lifting my beer. “But I’ve got the best one in the house.”
Her gaze flicks my way, deadpan as ever. “Are you this corny with all your dates, Masters?”
I chuckle, fully expecting the jab. “Only the pretty ones with sharp tongues.”
A flush creeps into her cheeks before she hides it behind a scoff. “Whatever. Just don’t start up with the fire-and-ice speech again and we’ll make it through tonight.”
“Hey, that was solid shit,” I argue.
“If you say so.”
Her mouth twitches, betraying the smile she’s trying to hold back.
“You plan weddings for a living, Goldilocks. Don’t tell me there’s not a hopeless romantic buried under all that bite.”
She snorts. “Not this wedding planner.”
That answer hooks me, my brow lifting. “Explain that to me. How does a girl go from throwing backyard weddings for her stuffed animals to building the real thing for a living, and not believe in any of it?”
“What can I say? I’m one of a kind.”
I don’t let her off the hook. “I’m serious. I want to know.”
She hesitates before a small sigh escapes. “The truth?”
I nod once.
“I used to be,” she says, quick to clarify. “A romantic, I mean. I was that girl—the dreamer who believed in fairytales. My favorite part of every story was always the wedding at the end. The happily ever after. It always felt so…magical.”
Her gaze turns distant, caught in the memory of the little girl she used to be.
“I wanted to be part of that. To feel it in real time. To create something so beautiful it would last forever.”
Every word lands heavy, the past tense impossible to ignore.
“And now?” I press when she falls quiet.
Her eyes find mine, and just like that, the wistfulness is gone. “Now I know better.”
The answer knocks something loose in my chest.
“I grew up and realized not everything is meant to last.” She lifts a shoulder, all casual, but her eyes give her away.
“So now I focus on the day instead of the forever. The little details I can control. I give my clients something no one can take from them, a memory to hold onto. That way, if it all falls apart later, they’ll still have that one day.
That one perfect moment when the magic felt real. ”
She says it so matter-of-factly, like the admission doesn’t still ache in places.
It makes me really fucking sad. For her…and the little girl who used to believe in forever.
Of course, I don’t say that because the pity would only make it worse. Instead, I do what I always do: bury the heavy beneath something lighter.
“So, you’re a wedding planner who doesn’t believe in forever.” I grab my beer with a smirk. “That’s one hell of a contradiction, Goldilocks.”
A ghost of a smile traces her lips. “I’m a realist, Masters. I thought you’d figured that out by now.”
That’s what she wants me to believe, what she wants everyone to believe, but I know better. I’ve always known better.
Setting my drink back down, I lean forward, bracing my arms on the table. “Or maybe…you just need a reason to believe in the fairytale again.”
Something flickers across her face, a flash of longing, before she buries it beneath a sharp arch of her brow. “Are you saying you believe in the fairytale?”
“Hell yes,” I answer without hesitation. “My parents are proof of it. Thirty years, and they still can’t keep their hands off each other.”
Her expression softens with a smile. “I remember catching them a few times sneaking kisses in the backyard.”
I grunt, not the least bit surprised. “Yeah, they’re not exactly subtle.”
“Neither were you and your brothers,” she says, a hint of amusement cutting through. “Always running wild, pulling pranks…starting slime wars with the neighbor girl.”
The corner of my mouth lifts, but it’s weak.
I used to love pulling my brothers into every stunt, thought it was nothing but harmless fun. But after learning the truth about the day she left, I realize it was a mistake. One that ended up costing us both.
“Speaking of my brothers…” I start, pressing forward. “I talked to Cash.”
Her amusement vanishes, eyes locking on mine with quiet caution.
“He admitted he lied to you. Said he thought he was doing me a favor.” My jaw tightens, the edge of anger still sharp in my chest. “Trust me, I made sure he knows how big of mistake it was.”
It’s not often my brothers and I fight, but this one had to happen. I can take my share of blame, but the fact he never told me what he did is what really sets me off. If he had, I could have rectified it, and things would have been different for us when she moved back.
“You didn’t have to say anything,” she mutters, gaze on the table now.
“Yeah, I did.” The words come out firm. “All this time I thought you walked away without saying goodbye, and it fucking ate at me. Even more now knowing how you must have felt. You deserved the truth and so did I. I’m sorry.”
She shrugs like she wants to brush it off, but the tremor in her fingers betrays her.
It matters. We both know it.
Before either of us can say more, a high-pitched voice cuts across the terrace. “Linc!”
My head snaps to the side, a grin tugging at my mouth at the little girl darting between tables, her dark ponytail bouncing with every step. “There she is…”
Harlow twists in her chair, brows knitting as she follows my gaze.
“You made it!” The little girl launches into my lap, her tiny arms wrapping tight around my neck like a koala on caffeine.
I grunt at the impact, my laughter following as I pull her in. “Sure did. How’s the prettiest girl in Glacier County?”
“Good.” She pulls back with a smile, the motion exposing what her smile can’t hide—the scars.
The puckered, uneven skin runs down one side of her face, tracing along her neck before vanishing beneath the collar of her dress. A permanent reminder that I wasn’t fast enough.
Still, she beams up at me, wide and fearless, as if pain never touched her.
“What are you still doing up?” I ask, bouncing her on my knee. “Shouldn’t you be drooling on a pillow somewhere?”
She giggles into her hand, the sound all sunshine and mischief. “Nǎinai and Yéye said you were coming, so they let me stay up late.”
The pride in her voice is unmistakable. “Lucky me.”
Over her shoulder, Harlow watches us, a quiet smile playing at her mouth.
“Julie, there’s someone I want you to meet.” I turn her forward. “This is my friend…Harlow. Harlow, meet Julie.”
Harlow falters at the scars, but recovers quickly, her smile blooming with a warmth that lands bone deep.
“Nice to meet you, Julie.” She leans in, offering her hand. “You have a beautiful name.”
Julie beams at the compliment. “Thanks! I like yours too.” She swivels back to me, suspicion narrowing her eyes. “Is she your girlfriend?”
Leave it to a six-year-old to be blunt as hell… I like it.
My gaze snags Harlow’s across the table as I answer. “I want her to be.”
Her head dips, a shy smile curving her lips before my gaze falls to Julie. “Think you can put in a good word for me?”
She pats my shoulder like a tiny boss. “I’ll do my best. No promises, though.”
Harlow laughs, fully charmed.
Mr. and Mrs. Chow approach our table then, carrying that easy warmth they always have. Two people I hadn’t known until a year ago, when a fire nearly took everything from them, including their granddaughter.
My hardest call. The one I’ll never forget.
I shift Julie in my arms and stand.
“Linc,” Mr. Chow greets first, offering a handshake. “Glad you could make it.”
I grip his hand firmly. “Appreciate you fitting us in on such short notice.”
Mrs. Chow steps in then, her smile gentle as she pulls me into a hug. “It’s the least we could do.”
They say that like they owe me something. They don’t.
I gesture toward Harlow as I sit again. “This is my date, Harlow.”
“Who he wants to be his girlfriend,” Julie adds, earning a ripple of laughter around the table.
Harlow winces sheepishly, lifting a hand. “That’s me.”
Mrs. Chow greets her with a hug. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Harlow.”
Harlow answers warmly. “You too. Your restaurant is beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Mrs. Chow smiles up at her husband, a trace of sadness hidden within. “It’s been our dream for a long time. After the fire…it reminded us life’s too short to wait.”
Mr. Chow nods, sliding an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “That’s right. And we owe it all to this man right here.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Sure you did,” Julie counters, looking up at me. “You saved me, didn’t you?”
The pride and trust in her voice hit square in my chest.
“My best save to date.” My voice comes out rougher than it did a second ago.
Across the table, Harlow watches, her expression soft and unreadable.
Mr. Chow clears his throat then, breaking the moment. “Well, we’ll let you two enjoy your night. Just wanted to say hello.”
“I’m glad you did. Thanks again for the table.”
Mrs. Chow pats my shoulder. “Next time, our house. We’ll cook for you.”
“I’d like that.”
Julie gives me one last squeeze, cheek pressed against my chest. “See ya!”
“See ya, kid.”
She rounds the table next, surprising Harlow with a hug.
It catches her off guard, but she softens quick, her hand coming up to hold Julie close. “Bye, Julie. It was nice meeting you.”
“You too.” Julie leans in close, whispering loud enough for us all to hear, “Say yes. He’s a real catch.”
A smirk pulls at my mouth.
That’s my girl.
Harlow’s gaze flicks to mine as Julie skips away. “Really, Masters? Recruiting a child to do your dirty work?”
I ease back in my chair, having no shame. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
She shakes her head, but she’s not fooling anyone.
Her gaze drifts back to where Julie disappeared with her grandparents, expression sobering.
I know exactly where it’s about to lead to.
“The fire,” she starts quietly. “Is that…how she got the scars?”
The weight in my chest tightens. “Yeah. An electrical fire started in her room while she was asleep. The Chows couldn’t get to her from inside the house.”
The memory claws through me. Mrs. Chow’s screams, her daughter’s devastation, Mr. Chow trying to scale the siding with his bare hands.
“Thank god you made it in time,” she whispers.
“Too bad it wasn’t fast enough.”
Her gaze locks on mine, seeing everything I don’t say. “I bet the Chows would disagree with that.”
Maybe so, but it doesn’t erase the truth. A kid like Julie should never have to carry scars like that.
“Puts things into perspective, doesn’t it?” she says, her fingers tracing idle circles along the stem of her glass.
“What do you mean?”
She lifts a shoulder. “We complain about bad days, but most of us don’t really know what that means. People like the Chows…Julie…they do. It makes everything else feel insignificant.”
I nod, the words settling somewhere deep. “Kinda makes you want to take risks.” My mouth curves, my meaning clear. “Especially when you get a second shot.”
Her brow arches. “Subtle, Masters.”
I’m done being subtle. Done pretending. Done watching everything I want slip through my hands.
I tip my bottle toward her, the glass cool against my palm. “Here’s to the ones who remind us of what matters and never taking it for granted.”
She raises her drink, a quiet ease in her eyes. “I’ll cheers to that.”
Our glasses touch, sealing something unspoken.
The rest of dinner unfolds with a calm that feels almost unfamiliar. Conversation comes easy, laughter even easier, and for the first time in a long while, it doesn’t feel like we’re circling old battles. It feels like we’re starting something new, the way it was always meant to be.