“She also told me that you said as the clock struck midnight, you realized she wasn’t the girl for you. You broke her heart.”
“Well, she broke mine first. And have you been talking to her about me?”
“Yes, occasionally. We’re friends, Carter. When you said what you did, she assumed that there was someone else.”
“There wasn’t for me, but obviously, there was for her. I’m glad I saw that before I stupidly proposed.”
“And why are you calling me now?”
“Because I’m pretending to be her fake fiancé.”
“You’re what?!”
“Yes, I have to lie to her family and pretend to love her.”
“But you’re not pretending,” she says astutely.
“I agreed to this whole mess because I do still love her, and I called you because of your feelings on fate. What I need to know is if this is fate’s way of bringing her back in my life. I had to do this, right? Just in case it is. I feel like I’m either crazy or an idiot.”
“That’s love for you,” Ashlyn says with a laugh. “And for what it’s worth, I do believe fate has given you a second chance. You need to tell her what you did. What you saw. And how you felt. And you need to really pay attention to how she responds.” She’s quiet for a moment before adding, “Carter, you give good advice. Always. What advice would you give to yourself in this situation?”
“I would tell myself to follow my heart and go get my girl.”
“Then, do it. And for goodness’ sake, text me and keep me updated. I’d better not have to wait until the weekend is over to hear how it went.”
“Don’t tell the family, okay?” I beg. “Not yet.”
She laughs. “You picked the wrong girl to call, Carter. I can’t keep a secret to save my life. You should have called Cade for that.”
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath as I end the call.
Another wedding.
Vale
“Sorry about that,” Trent says to me. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”
I can’t help but shoot him a dirty look. “Yes, you did. You forget how well I know you.”
“Knew me. Been a long time since you have been back home.”
“Well, some things don’t change. Are you still in the habit of walking around the house like you own the place?”
“Yeah, sort of,” he admits. “This has always been my second home. Your mom still has me over for Sunday dinner.”
“She does not,” I gasp.
He turns to me, lifting his broad shoulders. “What’s the matter with that?”
Does he really want to know?
“What about … you know, a girlfriend? Don’t you ever have other plans?”
“Sundays are for the Martins. As for girlfriends, there hasn’t been anyone serious in a very long time.”
He gives me a meaningful look that I hope doesn’t mean what it seems to.
Has he really not been in a relationship since I left?
“Trent, you deserve better than that.”
“With all due respect, Vale, I think I’m the best one to decide what I deserve. I know what I’m after.” He winks at me before sauntering off.
And it makes me feel a little sick to my stomach.
“There you are,” my mother says, rushing past me as she comes through the front door. “I could use another pair of hands, honey. Everyone is outside, prepping and baking the pizzas, but I need to get the sides out there.”
“Pizzas?” I ask.
“Yes, that’s what your sister and AJ requested for tonight’s pre-party. Their favorite thing to do when they came home from college was to make all sorts of creative pizza combinations in the outdoor oven.”
“You have an outdoor oven?”
“Yes, for pizza. Come. You’ll see.”
“Sorry I took so long upstairs. I left LA really early this morning and needed to freshen up for tonight.”
I grab a platter filled with a caprese salad while she has her arms wrapped around a large wooden salad bowl, and I follow her to a beautifully constructed outdoor patio. It’s situated between the main barn and the house and a new addition to the land since the last time I was here. Just as the barn is set up for parties, this is too. There are lights strung across the rafters of a pergola, hanging over a long, heavy wooden dining table—the kind that comfortably seats about twenty. Scattered about are other smaller dining tables and seating areas.
There’s a line of trees near the house, most likely for both privacy and to block the chilly north winds, but the back is open to the formal garden, gazebo, and then to the rolling meadow beyond.
There’s a full outdoor kitchen with dual gas grills, a smoker, and a pizza oven. Adjacent from it is a bar for serving drinks and a buffet counter. Plants add color and beauty.
Although I noticed the trees were new when I arrived, I didn’t realize all this was back here.
It’s like a little secret garden.
“This is beautiful,” I tell my mother.
“It turned out great. One of my favorite places on the farm. The old patio we used when you were a kid got small as our family expanded. And the space is great for throwing parties. We often use it as a spot for cocktails before hosting benefits in the barn. Your father is a pillar of the community. I really wish you didn’t butt heads. Have you spoken to him yet?”
“A little.”
“Vale.” She gives me a stern look.
“What am I supposed to talk to him about? He was downright rude to Carter when we arrived, and I don’t want to cause a scene during my sister’s wedding weekend.”
Mom seems to ignore all that. “Your father likes Carter. I can tell you that much.”
Funny how I can feel strangely proud and guilty as hell all at once.
“He should. Carter’s a great guy.”
“I hope we’re all able to get to know him. And get reacquainted with you. It’s been a while.”
“Yes, it has. But you know why.”
“Regardless, I’m happy for you, sweetheart. As soon as we get through this weekend, we’ll have another wedding to plan,” she says happily.
“We just got engaged,” I say flippantly as we make our way back to the house and into the dining room to retrieve whatever else needs to be brought out. “I haven’t had time to think about what kind of wedding I want or where I want it to be. Carter’s family is all in California, and our friends are spread out all over the world.”
She stops at the end of the long table and turns to face me. “You don’t want to have your wedding here?” she says, sucking in a breath.
I wonder why in the world she would ever think I would want to.
“I wouldn’t hold my breath on that one, Mom,” my sister Brooke says, rolling her eyes. “She hasn’t been home in four years, and that was only for Lakelyn’s high school graduation ceremony.”
I’m hoping she’ll stay and back me up, but she picks up a tray of pink-frosted cupcakes and hightails it out of the house.
“It’s Lakelyn’s weekend—her wedding, Mom. Let’s focus on that. Besides, I want to plan and pay for my own wedding.”