A Hilarious and Charming Feel-Good Read

by Saranna Dewylde

Large tables had been spread out and covered with tiny white lights, and the lights reminded him of the carriage.

  When he’d caught his first look at her in the carriage, it caused so many feelings to surge in his chest. She was so incredibly beautiful. Ethereal.

  “So how did you ensure against the natural disasters that would result from kissing me?” she asked as they were led to the tables that were now laden with all manner of delicious things from fresh fruit, to ceviche, to a create-your-own-omelet station, where all you had to do was imagine the kind of omelet you wanted and it manifested.

  “I’m not sure. I asked Petunia, and she said she and the godmothers had it managed.”

  Lucky didn’t say anything. Instead, she moved to the seat with her place card and sat down. Ransom couldn’t do anything but follow.

  He supposed he should be grateful that she understood. Grateful that she wasn’t forcing the issue of what happened between them and why, no matter how pretty a fantasy it was, it had to stay that way.

  Except he wasn’t. It bothered him that this was what she expected and she was okay with it.

  She deserved better.

  She deserved an explanation.

  She deserved someone who wasn’t afraid.

  He wished that someone could be him.

  Ransom tried to push those thoughts out of his head. He’d done a lot of wishing since he’d come to Ever After. Wishing, hoping, wanting, with no damn follow-through.

  “You should paint the cathedral,” he said.

  “That would be a much better subject of your art than me,” Grammy added.

  “No, I still need to paint you. I wanted to before, but now that I’ve gotten to know you, I’m more obsessed than ever,” Lucky said to her, eyes alight.

  Grammy waved her hand. “Off with that rot.”

  “I admire you so much. How you saved Red. The way you live on your own terms. Of course, there are your cheekbones, too.”

  Grammy laughed. “I suppose if you must. If you stay around after the wedding, which I imagine you will be to see your dear Gwen. She seems to be happy here. The kids, too.”

  Lucky nodded. “I’m happy here, too. I’ve been giving serious consideration to staying. It’s safe here. For me. For the people around me.”

  “I want you to stay here, kiddo. Everyone adores you. But don’t stay because of any other reason than this is where you want to be,” Grammy said with a stern nod. “I need to get one of those omelets. Steak on the brain!” She got up from her chair and went over to the other table to acquire her omelet.

  Ransom noticed that the godmothers were particularly uninvolved. He looked over to where they were sitting and they each raised a hand and wiggled their fingers in a wave.

  He didn’t trust it. Not in the slightest.

  “Lucky, look at the godmothers.”

  Lucky looked up from her food and turned her head toward the godmothers. They waved at her, too. The same little finger wiggle.

  “That’s suspicious,” she said.

  “Oh good. I thought it was just me.”

  “They’re plotting like usual. Too bad they can’t get it through their heads that you and I aren’t meant to be. It’d be a lot less stressful for everyone. Including them.”

  “This isn’t what I wanted,” Ransom said.

  “I don’t want to talk about this now.” She took a drink of her mimosa. “Actually, I don’t think I want to talk about this ever. It is what it is. You’ve made your choice.”

  “Lucky, I . . .” He what? What exactly did he think he was going to say to make this better? There was nothing to say.

  “Exactly,” she said. “We don’t have to have the talk. We don’t have to make excuses, or apologies, or talk about what-ifs. They’re all useless. Let’s just get through this sham for the godmothers and go our separate ways.”

  “If that’s what you want,” he said.

  “Didn’t we just establish I can’t have what I want?”

  “What do you want, Lucky?”

  “Can we not do this here? Please?”

  “Then let’s do it elsewhere. I think we owe it to ourselves to have some kind of closure.”

  “Ugh. Closure. Whatever. I don’t understand the concept. When a thing is over, it’s closed. That’s closure. Get over it and move on,” Lucky snapped.

  “That worked so well for us the first time? Because here we are.”

  “Fine.” She dropped her napkin and stood up.

  Gwen, who’d been sitting on the other side of her and talking to Red, turned at Lucky’s abrupt movement. “Are you okay,” she asked.

  Lucky nodded. “Ransom and I need to talk about a few things. Enjoy the brunch. We’ll be back in a bit.”

  Roderick got up, too, but Gwen pointed at him and then at his chair. Much to Ransom’s surprise, Roderick sat back down.

  Yeah, maybe the godmothers were right about Gwen and Roderick.

  “There’s a boathouse just down that path where we can talk.” Ransom pointed toward a path that led into the trees.

  “Fine.” She wrapped her shawl around her and walked toward the path.

  They walked for a few minutes in silence. “It’s just up ahead.” He could see the edge of the lake and a pair of swans gliding across the still surface.

  “Fine.”

  She didn’t even look at the swans.

  The boathouse was actually more like a small marina, and Ransom led her inside to a small lounging area that was boat themed. It sported anchors, fishing nets, and paddles as décor.

  “Would you like to sit?” He gestured to the couch that had once been a plush, cushioned bench on a boat.

  “Fine.” She plopped down on the seat and tightened the wrap of her shawl around her shoulders.

  He’d started to think she was using it like some sort of armor.

  “Is that all you’re going to say is fine?”

  “Maybe. You’re the one who has things he left unsaid. I don’t.”

  “Honestly, after everything, you’re going to tell me that you have nothing else to say to me?”

  “What do you expect from me, Ransom?” she cried. “You don’t want me. You made it clear. The rest of it doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me.”

  “Great. So let’s make this all about you. Let’s pick all the old wounds, all the old scars open, and you can watch me bleed so you can have closure. FINE.”

  “Damn it, Lucky.”

  “No, listen. You wanted to talk this out? Here we go. Remember the junket?”

  “As if I could forget.”

  “I know the junket was the culmination of all of your worst fears. I held your hand. I supported you. I watched you die until you could resurrect yourself and find the man you are in the boy you once were. You found that fear, you faced it. It’s over now, right? Those words, that nickname, it’s nothing to you.”

  “I wouldn’t say it’s nothing, but yes. I did face it. I did conquer it with you by my side. I—”

  She held up her hand to stay him. “The culmination of my darkest fear was what happened between us in Grammy’s.”

  Her words sliced straight through him. He’d swear he could feel the blade of them in the marrow of his bones.

  “Guess who I had to hold my hand? Guess who I had to tell me it would be okay?”

  She was right. He hadn’t been there when she’d needed him.

  She continued. “And it’s fine. It’s all fucking fine. I get it. I’m bad luck. I’m a curse. You’ll lose everything. Blah, blah. FINE.”

  There was that word again.

  “I expected it. Do you remember? I told you not to make promises you couldn’t keep. You swore to me that you could. Your feelings were hurt that I doubted you. Yet, here we are.” Her lips quivered. “Here I am. Alone. No matter what you have to say about what happened, and I know exactly what you’ll say while we’re at it, and like I said, I understand. I do. That doesn’t change the end result for either of us. I just ch
oose not to bleed for this anymore.”

  Panic closed around his throat like a vise. He knew he needed to say something, but the words he’d been so ready to spill all over her evaporated. His chance to tell her what he felt slipped through the hourglass, and each granule of sand was a moment he’d never get back. A chance he’d never have again.

  He didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t know the right words to sum everything in his heart. His whole body was a raw nerve and he needed her.

  Damn him for being a selfish bastard, but he needed her more than he needed his next breath.

  Any thought of consequences fled in the face of losing her.

  He grabbed her arms and pulled her closer, and as he did so, the shawl she’d been using to shield herself fell to the ground in a pool of lace and tears.

  “Don’t cry,” he whispered. “Please don’t cry.”

  “I’m not allowed to love you. I’m not allowed to have you. And I can’t cry. What can I do, Ransom? Tell me!”

  “Kiss me goodbye,” he said, knowing full well it wouldn’t stop there, but he couldn’t stop himself.

  “We both know how this ends,” she whispered.

  “Then walk away from me.”

  She reached up shaking fingers to cup his face. “You mean like what you’re going to do to me? I can’t do that.”

  Even as her words sliced him deep, she arched up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her up so he could taste her at his leisure. Lucky opened beneath him like a flower blooming for the first time, her desire unfurling like the tender leaves of a new bud.

  In that moment, Ransom knew that not even rabid dogs could stop him. Wasps, he’d take the stings. Leeches? Fuck ’em. A tornado? He’d just try to make sure that she found her pleasure before the twister touched down and wiped him off the face of the earth.

  No, the only thing that would stop him now was if Lucky said no.

  This was a culmination of years of desire.

  Of polarity that surged between them.

  He was a moth, and she was an eternal flame. Ransom had decided he was ready to burn. After he did, there’d be nothing left between them but goodbye.

  She knew it, too. Lucky met his kiss with an urgency of her own.

  This was heat, passion, and a mournful desperation.

  Some part of him knew that this wasn’t fair to her. Or to himself. He could tell himself that this was goodbye a hundred thousand times.

  Ransom was sure he’d always want her.

  He needed to take his time with her. To seduce her, to bring every nerve ending to life so that she could find her bliss over and over again.

  Only she wasn’t having any of that. “Ransom, we’ve had years of foreplay. I have plenty of those memories. Give me a new one,” she panted in his ear.

  “I didn’t ask you before,” he began. “Because I didn’t plan on ever taking it this far. Are you on birth control?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  He kissed her neck. “I haven’t been with anyone since I was tested. You?”

  “No.”

  He worked his way back up to her mouth. “Do you still want this? Are you sure?”

  “Surer of anything I’ve ever been in my life,” she said.

  Ransom eased her down on the overstuffed, plush couch, and she reached up eager hands to tug at the waist of his breeches and freed his cock.

  “Oh my God, is this actually happening? Hurry up, before a comet hits the earth and ends us all.”

  He laughed, because she was right. Every time they’d attempted this, there’d been some catastrophe. Apparently, this time the world was just going to have to end to keep them apart this last time.

  Lucky slid out of her panties quickly and dropped them on the ground. “Now, Ransom.”

  He gently lowered his weight atop her, and she wrapped her slim legs around his hips. Only as he was looking down at her face flushed with desire, he knew it wasn’t the universe that would stop him.

  Ransom should stop himself.

  She’d bared her heart to him, and told him how much this hurt her, yet she was still ready to give him everything.

  Everything he didn’t deserve.

  “What are you waiting for?” she asked breathlessly.

  “I don’t want you to regret this.”

  “I told you what I wanted, Ransom. I’m a big girl. I can live with my choices. Can you?”

  He let himself drown in the dark depths of her eyes when he slid himself deep inside of her, and when she dug her nails into his back and begged him to take her higher, all he could do was comply.

  She held on tightly, almost as if she were afraid to let go. He carried them both on waves of ecstasy until he’d wrung every last drop of pleasure that was to be had from the moment. From the connection.

  When Lucky reached her climax, she whispered ever so softly, “I love you.”

  Those words pushed him over the edge and he spilled, earthquakes rocking his body as he shuddered against her.

  He trailed kisses across her face, from her cheeks, to the tip of her nose, to her forehead. She cupped his face and pulled him down to kiss her lips.

  It was the tenderest of kisses. Slow, lingering.

  When she opened her eyes, she searched his face. Studied him for a long, solid moment. He didn’t want that moment to end, because when it did, this moment out of time had ended.

  “Lucky.” He said her name like a benediction.

  She put her finger to his lips. “You don’t have to say anything. We’ve already said everything that needs to be said.”

  He eased off of her and adjusted his clothing. His wedding costume.

  Ransom didn’t understand how the aftermath from something that had been so right could feel so awful.

  Chapter 20

  Lucky couldn’t believe it.

  She’d had actual sex with Ransom and it had been beyond her wildest dreams.

  She didn’t regret telling Ransom that she loved him. It wasn’t the first time. It wasn’t a new feeling. She hadn’t said it with any intention or expectation except that she wanted him to know it.

  How could she regret it? Love was something that was meant to be given. It welled up in her like a spring, and she wanted him to have it.

  Besides, when she thought of him, she didn’t want to be bitter. She wanted to remember him with all the love she’d felt for him. She wanted to be able to wish him well when he crossed her mind, as he invariably would.

  Ransom hadn’t yet moved the rest of his things out of the room, but she knew he would. She promised herself she wouldn’t let it hurt her; it was just what had to happen. Of course, that was easier said than done.

  The bedroom door creaked open and she shot upright in the bed, hoping against hope it was Ransom, but it wasn’t.

  It was Gwen.

  She was dressed in pajama pants, a T-shirt, and hard-soled slippers. She carried a box of what Lucky was sure was donuts and two coffees. “Jonquil is with the kids,” she said by way of explanation. “I thought we could have a quiet morning. If you were in bed by yourself. I was fully prepared to make an exit. Although, the godmothers were sure you’d be alone.”

  Lucky pulled the covers back in invitation, and Gwen put the box and the cups down to leap into the bed and curl up against her.

  Lucky exhaled a heavy sigh she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and snuggled up to her best friend.

  “Your hair smells like apples,” she murmured. “And coffee. Why do you always smell like good food?”

  “It’s to lure you in. I have to do something to make sure you keep me,” Gwen teased.

  “You do know the way to my heart.”

  “So tell me.”

  “Tell you what?” Lucky demurred.

  “Everything. Obviously.” Gwen stroked her hair. “Unless you’re not ready to talk. I understand that.”

  “It was wonderful.”

  “It happ
ened? Like . . . IT?”

  “Yeah. The world didn’t explode. No floods or volcanoes as of yet.”

  “Wait, clarify. Are we talking metaphorically or literally?”

  “Metaphorically, it was comets, and starbursts, and I heard the Hallelujah Chorus on repeat. Literally, no disasters. Although I’m waiting for that shoe to drop.”

  “I know you’ve been through a lot.” Gwen tightened her embrace, as if to show Lucky that she wasn’t going anywhere. “But have you considered maybe this is just something that you get to have?”

  “That would be pretty naïve of me, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t think hope is ever naïve. The people who do are sad and weak little goblins. Although, seriously. We’re in a fairy-tale town and you can’t find the will to believe?”

  “I have the will to believe, but after what I did to Melvin and Nancy, I don’t deserve it. I haven’t earned it.”

  “Whether you believe you do or don’t, it’s true.”

  “Stop with that. We’ve all read the fairy tales. Is this the part where I get everything I want? No.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that, but when do we get to that part?”

  “Never?”

  “I don’t like that story and I don’t want to read it,” Gwen said. “That’s a DNF for me.”

  “Too bad we can’t opt out like that.”

  “You totally can. If you don’t like how your story is going, change it. I think you said something similar to me about my marriage to Jake. Didn’t you?”

  “Maybe, but that’s different.”

  “How so?”

  “You’re not cursed.”

  “Neither are you. I tell you what, sometimes when you’re on the wrong path and you don’t know what to do, it can feel like being cursed.”

  Lucky hadn’t thought of it that way. “Have you heard from Jake yet?”

  “No, I know he’s getting ready to lay down some legal nonsense. I’ve contacted every law firm back home, and he got a consultation with each one so none of them can represent me.”

  “What a crappy thing to do. I know Roderick isn’t your favorite person, but I think his degree is business law. If nothing else, he could probably get you a good referral.”

  “You know, he’s not my favorite person, but he’s not my least favorite person, either. I’ll ask him. The worst he can say is no.”