Tease (Cloverleigh Farms #8)(71)

He was who he was, and I’d always said I would never want him to be anybody else. In New York, he’d flat out said, I’m set in my ways and not going to change. Take me or leave me.

I said I’d always take him. It wasn’t fair of me to change my mind.

I’d get through this week and the party, and then we’d have to call it quits.

My heart was already broken anyway.





Eventually, I dragged myself out of bed and checked my phone—the first thing I saw was yet another text from Mimi. Hey, not sure if you’ve been getting my messages, but really need a chat. Trust me when I say you can’t afford to ignore me.

Disgusted, I deleted the message and went to make myself some coffee. She probably wanted to give me tips for growing my social media following—although, at this point, my follower count far exceeded hers. Or maybe she wanted to offer hair and makeup advice. Get a close-up look at my ring. Hound me for more details about my wedding.

I distracted myself with work, editing some photos, drafting posts, responding to emails, replying to comments on social media. My one-star review on Dearly Beloved had finally been removed—thank heavens—but I was anxious to have some good ones in its place. I flipped through my calendar, looking at the coming months’ catering gigs and shifts at Etoile.

The engagement party date was circled in red.

When the calendar blurred, I got up from the table, changed into workout clothes, and took a walk through the woods surrounding Hutton’s house. When I got back, I put a towel out on the deck and did some yoga and stretches in the sun. Breathing deeply, I reminded myself that I still had a plan. I still had goals. I still had dreams. And just because Hutton was leaving didn’t mean I’d never see him again. With some time and distance between us, maybe we could repair our friendship.

But would I ever feel this way about anyone else?

When tears threatened once more, I got up and took a shower. Afterward, wrapped in a towel, I walked into the closet to get dressed for work.

And saw the Cosette Lavigne garment bag.

Unable to resist, I unzipped the bag and took out the gorgeous white confection of a dress, took in its full skirt and deep V neckline and statement sleeves. I recalled Hutton asking what the hell that meant, and a laugh turned into a sob.

Hanging the dress up, I spun around and raced into the bathroom. Dug out the scissors.

And this time I cut.





Less than an hour later, I knocked on Millie’s front door.

She pulled it open and gasped. “Oh no. More bangs.”

Nodding, I began to cry, and she quickly ushered me into the house and wrapped her arms around me. “Shhhh, it’s okay. They’re a little extreme, but at least they’re even . . . ish. Did you cut any off the back?”

“No,” I blubbered. “I stopped myself for once.”

“Good girl.” She released me and stood back, hands on my shoulders, taking in my black pants and white chef’s coat. “Got time for some tea or lemonade?”

“Yes. Thank you.” I followed her back to the kitchen and sat at the table while she poured us some lemonade and hulled some fresh strawberries. Muffin and Molasses twined around my feet, and Muffin jumped into my lap.

“Here.” Millie set a glass and the fruit in front of me. “I’d open some wine or something, but it looks like you have to work, and something tells me we’d kill that bottle pretty fast.”

“Yeah. I better stick to lemonade.”

She picked up her glass from the counter and lowered herself into the chair next to me. “So what’s going on?”

“It’s this thing with Hutton,” I said, struggling for composure. “I think it might have turned real.”

She pressed her lips together, like she didn’t want to say I told you so.

“It didn’t start real,” I said defensively. “It was all an act. A way for me to save face in front of Mimi Pepper-Peabody and for Hutton to get his mother off his back. Plus, I got to move out of Dad and Frannie’s house.”

“You know, both Winnie and I said you could move in with us, just saying,” Millie pointed out.

“That isn’t the point,” I said irritably.

“Of course not. Sorry. Go on.”

I took a breath. “Everything was fine until we got to New York. That’s where I started to get . . . confused.”

“Can’t imagine why,” she muttered, taking a sip of her lemonade.

“I was overwhelmed by the . . .” I rolled my hands like wheels on a bus. “Whirlwind of fantasy. It’s not easy to keep your feet on the ground when your head is in the clouds, you know? I was never the girl who dreamed about being the princess, but Hutton just has this way of making me feel so beautiful and special and deserving.”

“You are, Felicity.” Millie’s voice was firm. “Don’t doubt that.”

My throat hurt, it was so tight. “I don’t know what to do, Millie. Hutton is the only guy I’ve ever felt this close to. The one guy on the planet who gets me, who’s seen me at my best and worst, who knows the crazy inner workings of my mind and doesn’t judge me.”

Millie sat back and draped her arm over her head, half-eaten strawberry still in her hand. “Are you listening to yourself? The one guy, the only guy? You’re in love with Hutton.”