Page 82 of Mistletoe Season
Unless he believes I’m worth the chance.
The thought wedged in between her doubts like a crowbar. Any of the residual concerns about the former women in his life crashed beneath his choice, his determination. Her eyes burned with pooling tears.
Could he truly leave everything for her?
A knock at the front door startled her from her thoughts, and she peered out her bedroom window. Luke’s truck sat in her driveway.
What was he doing here? He should be packing for his flight to Skymar.
She fastened the faux diamond earrings in place and then gave herself a quick look in the mirror. Arran had been right. She barely recognized herself in the elegance of such a gown. And with a touch more makeup, applied with the help of a YouTube video, and a careful twist of her hair, also from a YouTube video, she wondered if this was what Cinderella felt like as she walked into the prince’s castle.
A lady.
Her gaze trailed back to her phone at the thought.
Another knock at the door pulled her from her musings and down the stairs. Luke stood on the threshold of the door, holding a large square package in hand and wearing a tux. His dark brows roseas he took her in, from her head down to her shoes and back. “You look amazing.”
“And you’re wearing a tux,” she responded with equal astonishment.
“The invitation said ‘formal,’ so I figured this would work.”
She gave her head a little shake. “Youowna tux?”
And his regular, lopsided grin fell right into place. “Only because I’m married to a princess. Otherwise, I’d have gone for something less obnoxious and more comfortable.”
She barked out a laugh, which didn’t fit the sophistication of her dress at all. “What... what are you doing here? Don’t you leave for Skymar in the morning?”
“I’m already packed.” He gestured toward himself with his free hand. “Man. It only took me thirty minutes.”
She bestowed upon him her most impressive eye roll.
“But I promised Arran I’d escort you, so here I am.”
She stepped back for him to enter. “You promised Arran?”
He nodded, taking the familiar trek to her living room.
She swallowed through the lump in her throat. “Have you talked to him today?”
“Yeah, when he couldn’t get ahold of you, he called me.” Luke looked over at her. “I get it, Charlie. Probably better than anyone else. The idea of the royal life is daunting and weird.” He shrugged one of those broad shoulders. “And I had to decide if I was willing to risk all the discomfort and negative media and strange royal protocol things and living six months of the year in a foreign country, but the rewards were a hundred times better. Ellie’s been worth it all.” He tugged at his collar. “Even the tux parts.”
“But you’reyou.” She waved a hand toward him. “Your history isn’t like mine.”
“You’re right, it’s not. But if Arran wasn’t worried about it, thenmaybe that tells you how muchyoushould be worried about it too.” He stepped closer, dipping his head a little to catch her attention. “Charlie, it took years for you to step away from your past.” He drew in a breath. “I can’t know the hurt you’ve felt, but there comes a time when we have to quit sitting in the stink of our past and embrace the hope of the future.”
“That was equally poetic and frightfully Appalachian at the same time.”
His grin angled with a wiggle of his brows. “I have a gift.”
She chuckled despite the sting in her eyes. “I don’t know if I’m brave enough, Luke.”
He nodded and pushed the package toward her. “Maybe this will help.”
With a curious look at her cousin, she took the red-wrapped package and slowly pushed back the paper. Her breath caught in her throat. Framed in silver lay the painting from her childhood, complete with castle, girl, lion, and starlight. A quote, embossed in silver, fitted to the bottom of the frame.
“Have courage, dear heart.”
She blinked up at Luke, thoughts stumbling one over the other. “Arran?”
