Page 60 of The Fiance Dilemma

I turned, finding what he was looking at just as the clinking of something metallic against glass sliced right through the chatter in the barn. The groups that had gathered around the stands quieted, the chairs of those who had taken a seat to eat or drink something scraped as they turned, and every head in Green Oak’s midnight farmers’ market twisted in the direction of the noise.

“What is Bobbi doing?” I whispered.

“Does it even matter?” Matthew answered. “She’s standing on a stool and everyone’s looking at her now.”

Bobbi cleared her throat. Then waited a moment. A beam of light flickered to life, illuminating her from bob to combat boots. “A little off with the timing, but we’ll talk about that later, Roberto,” she muttered before a smile parted her face. Her voice rose. “Hello, people of Green Oak.”

There was a pause, as if she expected the crowd to respond. No one did.

“I guess I can’t blame you,” she deadpanned. “It’s one in the morning and we’re here, in a barn, surrounded by… vegetablesand goat cheese. It doesn’t exactly scream party.” There was another pause, smaller, judging by the way her lips parted to continue. A goat bleated. Brandy, if I had to guess. She sighed. “Okay, whatever. Thank you for giving Andrew Underwood your warmest welcome in his return to Green Oak. The town that saw him grow up as a young boy, and the place he’s been looking after, and advocating for, even if from the shadows over the decades. Gasp, gasp. Applause, applause. Now I’ll give the stage to a very special person to Andrew, and the town, whoI knowwould love to say a few words—Josephine Underwood-Moore. Or future Mrs. Flanagan, as I’m sure many are already calling her.”

Every head in the barn turned to look at me.

My whole body had gone slack. I felt like my name had just been picked out of a jar and I’d somehow been selected as tribute in some strange version of the Hunger Games. Only it wasn’t my name. My name was Josephine Penelope Moore. No hyphen. No Underwood. And I wasn’t the future Mrs. Flanagan. I was… in shock. Like proper, paralyzing, petrifying shock.

A gentle tug at my hand, followed by a weight at the small of my back, was the only warning I got before I started moving. Matthew’s scent wrapped around my senses, the warmth of his shoulder against mine as we apparently navigated the sea of staring eyes.

Bobbi smiled tensely before leaning her head down. “Why does she look like that?” she whispered. “She doesn’t have a speech? The planner—”

She was somehow shoved aside.

Matthew occupied my field of vision. “You want to do this? Yes or no?”

This. The speech. It took me a beat, but I nodded my head. What was the alternative? Looking like a fool? As suddenly terrified and intimidated as I was, this was my town. My community. They loved me, cared for me, looked up to me. I had a responsibility.

Matthew gave me a wink, and it wasn’t a playful one. It was a reassuring one.You got this,it told me.You can do anything.My body moved toward the stool. My boot slipped. Hands seized me by the waist. Matthew picked me up and planted me on top of it.

“I…” I trailed off. Matthew stood below, head at the height of my hip, as if guarding me. But from what? This was Green Oak. I was their mayor. I could do this. I’ve faced much worse. “Phew,” I said with a strange-sounding laugh. “I wasn’t expecting that.” Bobbi’s scoff from the back was obvious. “I mean, I certainly wasn’t expectingthatwonderful speech from Bobbi; that’ll be super hard to follow up.”

I studied the crowd before me, looking for what, I didn’t know. Not until I stumbled upon a set of blue eyes that looked exactly like mine. Andrew arched his brows, as if in question.

I squared my shoulders. “When I was tasked with organizing a welcome dinner for my father, a part of me rebelled at the thought.” Some murmur picked up, but I pushed past it. “A dinner somehow didn’t feel like the best fit for something like this. If you’ll allow me to be blunt, I was a little scared that not many people would show up.” Andrew’s brows arched. “Let’s be honest, the man is a stranger.” My father’s lips thinned. “But strangers can be turned into friends with a smile and the right amount of effort. And Andrew’s efforts to preserve and improve the town he once called home can’t be ignored. The farm we stand on tonight is an example of that. Although his support was always from the shadows, like Bobbi said, I believe it wasn’t from a place of shame, but from deep in his heart. And that is why I thought there couldn’t be a better way to welcome him than to show him what Green Oak has become in his absence. With his help. A piece of our soul. And potentially, a new beginning.”

The hardness that always accompanied Andrew’s features seemed to momentarily crumble. And for the first time in the short time I’d known him, I was pretty sure I was seeing who I suspectedwas the man behind the mask. A man capable of showing tenderness. Nostalgia. A man whose eyes glinted with emotion, and perhaps even hope, for just a few moments.

I tried to stop the satisfaction from swelling inside me. From advancing and eating away at everything—anything—else that had been there a second before. But I failed. I was never good at managing big feelings, no matter how good or bad they were.

Someone clapped. Quickly, more people followed, the resounding applause breaking through whatever I’d momentarily fallen into.

In the same breath, Matthew’s hands were at my waist again, lifting me off the stool, and Andrew was stepping forward, effortlessly parting the crowd around him.

Matthew’s hand clasped mine, just as Andrew reached us.

“Thank you, Josephine,” my father said, voice booming across the barn ease. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bobbi approaching, doing something with her hands. But my father continued. “I don’t think there’s a better chance than this to share the good news: I’m happy to cordially invite everyone present to my daughter’s and Matthew’s union on December first, in a ceremony that will take place here, at the Vasquez Farm.”

The blood in my whole body froze.

Andrew chuckled, as if happy with himself. “And to the joyful four weeks of celebration that will precede the wedding.”

The barn blinked out of existence for a second. Every face, every moving hand as they clapped excitedly, every stand, every detail I’d personally decorated, even theWELCOME HOMEbanner I’d painted and hung outside, I was sure had disappeared. It all went poof, black, for a second or two.

Good,I thought.Great.I wanted everything to disappear.

The warmth at my hand squeezed. Tugged.Matthew.

But I didn’t want to face him, I didn’t want to have to explain or comfort. I couldn’t. I was barely managing to do that myself. Iwished… I wished there was a way everyone would just forget what my father had said.

And as if summoned, the whole place quieted. There were phones pinging, chirping, then Grandpa Moe was in front of me, granting me my wish.

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