“Two weeks.”
“Hollis mentioned it was a short engagement.”
“I think they might have set some kind of record.” Ethan ground out a stray spark that landed in the grass.
“Are you . . . worried?”
“I’m envious,” Ethan said. “And, to be honest, slightly nauseated.”
Mac laughed. “I know what you mean. When they look at each other, it’s like everything else disappears.”
Caught up in the magic that was Mackenzie’s laugh, Ethan met her eyes across the fire and everything . . . disappeared.
A log shifted, breaking the spell, and Mac stumbled to her feet. “I should go home.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
“I know the way.”
“Coach would order a hundred crunches if he knew I let you walk home in the dark.” Ethan ignored the exasperated look Mac cast in his direction and fell into step beside her.
“The yard is going to look beautiful on Saturday.” Mac stopped along the path to admire one of the newly transplanted rosebushes.
“Mom declared war against beetles in her garden. She’s also pulling weeds before they come out of the ground.”
“She did all this?”
“I think it was therapeutic. Beetles and weeds can’t talk back.”
“Your mom hasn’t been too demanding.” Mac nudged his ribs. “I think she’s catching the vision of a rustic outdoor wedding.”
“Because of you.”
“Me?” Mac turned to stare at him.
“You can’t deny it was pure genius,” Ethan mused. “Using the words rustic chic to describe the decorations.”
But the way Mac was staring at him—as if he’d lost his mind—told Ethan that she didn’t realize what she’d done.
Nature, left alone, was unpredictable and messy, but if it was incorporated into a theme, well, his mother could work with that. It had made the last few days go much more smoothly for Hollis and Connor.
“You’re amazing, Mackenzie.” And Ethan had a feeling that everyone knew it but her.
“I’m just . . . me.”
The clouds suddenly parted, and Ethan laughed as a band of moonlight illuminated the gazebo on the hill. Mac was ten feet away before Ethan realized she’d thought the laughter was directed at her.
“Wait!” He caught up to Mac before she reached the trees. “Look up.”
Mac tipped her face toward the sky and Ethan’s eyes skimmed over the smooth contour of her brow, down her straight little nose with its dusting of freckles, and lingered on the plush curve of her lower lip.
“Connor and Hollis’s full moon,” she said, laughing.
“I’m sure we saw it first.”
Mac’s laughter died when Ethan drew her slowly into the circle of his arms.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.
Looking into Mac’s velvet-brown eyes, Ethan could see she didn’t believe that, either.
He’d just have to show her.
Ethan tugged her closer and Mac’s breath rushed out, mingling with Ethan’s as he captured her lips.
The night Ethan had taught her how to dance he’d kept a respectable distance between them. But now Mac could feel the rapid beat of his heart, the warmth of his hands on the small of her back.
The kisses Mac had dared to imagine when she was fifteen were nothing compared to the reality of being held in Ethan’s arms.
Over the past few days, Mac had tried to convince herself that what she felt for Ethan was nothing more than nostalgia. The embers of a schoolgirl crush she’d had on the boy next door.
But as Ethan deepened the kiss, Mac wasn’t thinking about the past. She wasn’t thinking about dances and football games and all the times she’d been tongue-tied and blushing in Ethan’s presence.
She was thinking this was a man she could spend the rest of her life with . . .
Lost in the kiss, Mac didn’t hear Hollis calling Ethan’s name until she stumbled out of the shadows. The panic in Hollis’s voice split them apart.
Ethan was at her side in an instant. “What’s wrong?”
“Brenda, Connor’s agent, called a few minutes ago.” Hollis sagged against him. “Someone from a newspaper contacted her and asked if she could confirm that the reason we decided to get married so quickly was because Connor . . . Connor isn’t expected to live very long.”
“What? How did that get out?”
“I don’t know, but Brenda told Connor not to talk to the media until she figures out the best way to handle the situation.”
“It’ll be okay, Hollis.”
“This is why Connor wants to keep his professional and personal lives separate. He knows the media is always looking for a story that will grab people’s attention. They don’t necessarily care if it’s the truth.”
Ethan was no longer looking at Hollis . . . He was looking at her.
He didn’t think . . .
Mac instinctively took a step backward. “I should go.” Her throat started to close. “So you can talk to Connor.”
“Mac—”
Mac didn’t wait to hear what Ethan had to say. Because his expression had said it all.