Love At First Ink: A Woodbine Valley Romance (Tate Family Book 1)

by Bridgid Gallagher

  He started to object—no one insults my truck—but she was on a roll.

  "But you're kind and thoughtful. You're sexy and sweet and smart. And I don't know what we have between us, but I know I want to find out." She shook her head, as though frustrated. "I'm in love with you, Justin. And I want to be with you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. "You done?" he asked.

  She was breathing hard. "Yes," she said.

  "Well that's great," he said.

  Elle started to smile. Hope lit her eyes brighter than the street lamps. Bitterness nibbled at his insides.

  "But I'm not interested. Just because you finally think I’m worthy doesn't mean I'm gonna jump at the chance.”

  She opened and closed her mouth. When she recovered, she stepped closer to him, punching a finger into his chest.

  "You love me too, you obstinate mule of a man." She put her hands on her hips. "You're just afraid."

  "Afraid," he repeated. He didn't like where this was headed. He stepped closer. "Let's talk about being afraid."

  Again, her eyes glanced at their audience.

  "You're so afraid of what your mother thinks, you stay at a job you hate and date men who treat you like garbage. How's that for being afraid?"

  They were close enough her hot breath fanned his face. She looked spitting mad, and like she was getting ready to hit him. Or kiss him. And he wasn't sure which he wanted. He was certainly asking to be hit, and he knew it.

  "At least I'm living," she said. "I'm trying. Unlike you, I'm out there seeing people, not hiding away. When are you going to start living for yourself, huh Justin?"

  A cool wall of ice rose up, surrounding his heart. Making this moment, this decision cut and dry.

  He didn’t need a complication like her. He could go back to his quiet life.

  It was over between them. Whatever they could have had, it wasn’t worth this.

  "We're done here," he said. He didn't wait for an answer. He swiveled on his heel and walked away.

  Chapter 22

  Elle stood on the church steps, waiting to fulfill her duties as Maid of Honor. So far, she'd averted a minor crisis when Veronica was hit with a bout of hay fever (thank you, antihistamine), kept her sister's train out of the toilet when nature called, and managed to avoid her mother who kept shooting guilt-inducing and we need to talk, young lady looks her way.

  And, most importantly, Elle fought thoughts of Justin like a silk-clad Samurai. The moment one inkling, one teeny-tiny thought about him tried to cross her mind, she sliced and diced that thought until she no longer needed to bawl her eyes out or wail like a banshee.

  It was going really well.

  Or, she hadn't dissolved into a pool of pitiful yet, which Elle considered a resounding success.

  At the moment, she was waiting with the bridal party for their cue to enter the church.

  Lucy fluffed her veil away from her face, pawing at it like it was an over-eager octopus.

  “Water,” she said. “I need water.“

  Elle rushed to her sister. Lucy’s eyes were tight and her breaths were coming fast.

  Becky Lee moved in like a vulture. “You don’t look so good,” she said to Lucy. “Bless your heart, are you getting cold feet?”

  “Becky Lee,” Elle said, her voice sharp. “Could you get Lucy a glass of water, please?”

  As soon as Becky Lee was gone, Elle turned to her sister.

  “What’s going on?” she asked. “What can I do?”

  Lucy shook her head. “I don’t know. I was fine … then I wasn’t. What in the hell am I doing?” She pushed back her veil with an annoyed swat. “Marrying Smith? Forever? I hate the way he chews, it sounds like a cow mulling over cud, hand to God. He leaves his clothes tossed everywhere. And, and! When his parents start talking politics I have to bite my tongue to keep from going insane. I can’t even tell you who they voted for in the last election. It makes me sick. What if Smith turns into his parents? Oh, God. What if I turn into our mother?” Lucy spoke in a quick, frantic rush, her voice growing higher and higher. “What was I thinking?”

  Elle rubbed her sister’s back. “You were thinking that you love him,” Elle said. “It makes all that other stuff go away.”

  Lucy studied Elle. “Is it enough, though?”

  Elle thought about it. She thought of how she’d forgive all of Justin’s faults—and the man was no angel—if it meant she could just be with him every day.

  “I think so,” she told her sister. “He’s got his faults, but we all do. I don’t think marriage is about being perfect. It’s about finding someone to go through life with, someone who you want to be with for the perfect moments, but for the really crappy ones too.”

  “Since when did you get so smart?” Lucy asked.

  “Since I had my heart broken, I think.”

  They shared a watery laugh.

  Becky Lee returned with the water. Lucy took grateful sips. She seemed steadier, less panicked.

  Lucy pulled Elle into a tight hug. “I am so grateful for you,” she said. “Thank you for being here.”

  Elle hugged her sister back, fighting back a sudden rush of emotion. “You don’t need to thank me. From now on, I’m here for you. Whatever happens.”

  Lucy smiled.

  Then Elle gave her sister a serious expression. “There’s just one thing,” she said. “The cow-like chewing? I don’t even know where to start with that. Y’all might need therapy.”

  Lucy laughed.

  "Elle." While Elle and Lucy had been talking, Caroline made her move. Lucy gave Elle an apologetic look before leaving for one last makeup check.

  Beneath the harsh morning sun, Elle noticed new lines fanning from the corners of her mother's eyes and mouth. Something was different, though. Elle tried to put her finger on it, then realized: Caroline's usual look—part-warrior, part-socialite—was still in place, but doubt filled the corners, like water seeping in after a storm.

  "Mother," Elle said.

  “Your father won’t speak to me until I talk to you,” Caroline said without preamble.

  “Okay,” Elle said slowly. “So talk.”

  Caroline huffed, then smoothed down her hair. ”I wanted to apologize,” she said. “I lost my temper and said things that were uncalled for. It was unladylike and … I was disappointed, but I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. I never meant to make you feel that you needed to lie to me.”

  Elle wasn't sure how to reply.

  "I only wanted what was best for you girls."

  "You wanted what was best for you," Elle said.

  "No," Caroline said emphatically. "Marrying your father gave me the things I wanted my entire life. That's what I wanted for you."

  Elle shook her head. "But the parties, the people—what about all of that?"

  Caroline sighed. "Maybe I got lost along the way," she said, her voice soft. "It started because I love you girls, and I wanted you to be safe and secure. Surely you understand?"

  Elle nodded slowly. She did understand. But Elle also knew that path wouldn’t necessarily lead to happiness for her.

  "I understand," she said.

  Her mother offered a wobbly smile. "Oh," she said. "Good. Your father said you would, but I had my doubts."

  "Are you two going to be okay?" Elle asked. She had heard her parents bickering at the rental house after the rehearsal dinner and was certain they'd spent the night in separate rooms.

  "I have some making up to do," Caroline said.

  Elle looked at her mother anew.

  "Don't look so shocked. Your father is a good man, and he made me see certain things ... things I'd rather not acknowledge. But we will work on it. Together."

  On an impulse, Elle pulled her mother into a hug. Caroline bristled, and it was more of an air hug than a real hug, but it was progress. "I'm proud of you," Elle said into her mother's ear.

  Caroline pushed back, wiping her eyes delicately. "Enough of that," she said. "We have a wedding to get to."<
br />
  The church bells rang—as if in response to Caroline's demand—and the bridal party bustled into action. Elle was about to turn back to the church when something—someone—caught her attention. A tall man with broad shoulders and a beat up baseball hat strode toward the church. His glasses glinted in the sunlight.

  Justin.

  Justin walked up to the church steps and stopped below Elle. She was radiant. Her cheeks were tinged pink and her eyes bright. He paid no attention to the gaggle of shiny women watching him approach with over-made eyes and stiff hair. He wasn't there for them. He was there for Elle.

  A wave of nerves made him pause.

  The moment he stopped, she said, “What are you doing here?”

  Justin could tell she was trying to play it cool. Her tone was icy, but the tremble in her voice gave him hope. Enough to make him want to take a risk.

  “I needed something,” he said, his voice rough. He took the first of the church steps, then stopped. "You, Elle," he said. He took another step. One closer to Elle. "I needed you."

  A feminine voice sighed, loud and dramatic.

  Elle swallowed. "But you said—”

  "I was being an idiot."

  “Well, I knew that. I wasn’t sure you were aware.”

  Another step.

  He’d had a long night to think things over. He’d spent it at Oak Bramble’s viewpoint. Alone. Watching stars spread across the sky, then dawn break in the morning.

  Justin had left Elle the night before full of anger and self-righteousness. She’d hurt him. Worse, she could do it again.

  Over and over he played their conversations in his mind and tried to understand the two different sides of Elle.

  Then he realized: there was only one Elle.

  She was imperfect, but she was doing her best.

  And he loved her.

  He lowered his voice so only she could hear. “You’re mad, and you have every right to be. What you said last night … it scared me. I lashed out at you and I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath. “Will you forgive me?"

  Elle's eyes glistened. “Of course I forgive you," she said, almost in a whisper. “I love you, remember? But don’t do it again.”

  Justin stopped two steps below Elle. “Never,” he said. He took another deep breath, then risked it all. “I’m ready to be with you if you’ll have me. I’m in love with you, Elle.”

  She blinked rapidly like she was fighting back tears.

  “You know who I am,” he said. “I’m no prince charming, but I’ll do my best to give you what you want.”

  Elle sighed. Beside them, a mere twenty paces away, the bridal party watched and gave a collective sigh.

  Elle's laugh was a beautiful thing. “I don’t want anything but you,” she said. Her smile was bright and wide.

  Justin stepped up until his eyes were level with Elle's. He placed his hands on her face and asked for permission. "May I kiss you?" he said. His voice sounded like sandpaper, but she didn't seem to mind.

  "Please," she said.

  Before he moved in, he said, “So you’re okay living in the toolshed, then?”

  Elle laughed. “Oh, hell no.”

  They were both smiling when he kissed her. Behind them, the bridal party erupted into happy noises. The church bells pealed and Justin held on to Elle, enjoying the feel of her in his arms.

  "Come on," Caroline said, bustling the group into order. "We've a wedding to get to."

  Elle and Justin broke apart.

  "You can sit in the back," Caroline said to Justin. She eyed him up and down with a pointed look.

  "I'm not dressed for it," he said.

  She nodded. "True. But you'll do."

  Beside him, Elle stiffened in surprise.

  "Thanks, Mom," she said.

  Caroline gave a swift, perfunctory nod before bustling into action.

  Elle turned to Justin. "I'll see you after the wedding, okay?"

  "Plan on it."

  As he climbed the steps to the church, he heard Caroline say, "At least you found a wedding date."

  Elle's laughter followed him into the church.

  Epilogue

  Elle stood back from straightening fabric wound around an archway and smiled at her handiwork. The grounds of Murphy House—Theo’s family’s inn—had been transformed into a Starry Night-inspired fairyland for Theo’s sister’s wedding. Eowyn had a specific vision, one Elle had been delighted to help her create.

  Gauzy fabrics hung from trees and fluttered in the wind. Later, as night fell, the lights she'd strung in the trees would make the space look like a dreamscape. For now, the back patio was the crowning piece of her efforts. Long tables covered in white were decorated with mason jars full of wildflowers and inky black linens speckled with silver like stars. It was exactly what the bride wanted.

  "It's crooked."

  The voice was low and grumbly, and even after dating for months, still made shivers run up and down her spine. The good kind. She turned to Justin with a sharp, "Is not."

  He raised an eyebrow. She looked at the arch and realized he was right.

  Elle swore as she climbed back up her ladder and fixed the arch. Justin micromanaged from the ground.

  "A little to the left. No, too far."

  "Justin!"

  She glared at him over her shoulder. When she saw his teasing smile, she hopped off the stepladder. Elle didn’t look where she stepped, and her ankle gave way.

  Strong, familiar arms broke her fall.

  “Well this brings back memories,” Justin said, a smile in his voice. “Remember the first time I caught you?”

  “Don’t remind me!”

  “You wrapped yourself around me—"

  “I did no such thing!” she interrupted. “I lost my balance.”

  “You rubbed your face on my chest.”

  Elle covered her face with one hand. “God, I totally did, didn’t I?”

  His grin was huge.

  She shook her head. “I’m only this much of a klutz around you, you know.”

  “It’s my looks. You can’t help yourself.”

  “That’s exactly it,” she said dryly.

  Elle had spent weeks in a flurry of planning for this moment. She hadn't slept more than a handful of hours for the last few nights—and hadn't seen Justin alone for far too long. What she wanted was to wrap herself around him and never let go, but there was too much work to do.

  She started to leave his arms, but he snagged her wrist. Elle protested for point two seconds, but when he tugged her to him, she didn't resist. Justin wrapped his arms around her and she snuggled in, breathing his scent and letting his warmth seep into her bones.

  "Hi," she said.

  "Hey," he said.

  Elle let herself relax. She pulled back to look at him, savoring the feel of being in his arms and the joy of knowing he loved her.

  "Are you ready for this?" she asked. “I know you thought it was a risk. Still think that way?”

  After Elle moved to Woodbine Valley she'd started work at the local library. She still did freelance research work for her favorite professors and colleagues in the Triangle area—it turned out she missed medical journals, a fact that surprised her—but she spent most of her time in the Children's section at Woodbine’s library and loved every minute of it. She found a small apartment above the flower shop downtown and was able to walk to work. She and Theo met regularly for chats over sweet tea, and Elle even managed to survive a few babysitting stints with Theo’s boys.

  Meanwhile, she dated Justin, getting to know him more and more, and falling deeper in love with him every day.

  Still, she wanted more, and her time at Oak Bramble had planted the seeds of an idea. When Theo's sister Eowyn needed a wedding planner—she'd called wedding planning work of the devil—Elle jumped at the chance to help. She even went so far as to team up with Jess; Elle handled the planning and decorating, and Jess provided the food. If all went well, the next wedding would be held at O
ak Bramble.

  Jess loved the idea straight away, but Justin had been cautious about Elle and his mom going into business together. He hadn't wanted to risk hurting their relationship with a business venture.

  Now, he said, "Sometimes risks are good."

  He looked at her, eyes serious in the sunlight.

  "There's another risk I want to talk to you about."

  Elle couldn't help it. She checked her watch. "Really? Does it have to be now? The wedding party will be here any minute, and I still have to check the food. Oh, and make sure the DJ is on her way. And—“

  Justin cut her off with a kiss. It started simple and sweet, then took a turn into something stronger, deeper. Elle sighed and relaxed into his arms, letting the warmth of the kiss spread from her stomach to her toes. To her heart.

  He pulled back. "I love you," he said, his breath a whisper against her face.

  She smiled, dazed. "I love you, too."

  His expression turned serious. "I want to spend the rest of my life doing this."

  "Arguing and giving me a hard time?" she asked, teasing.

  "No," he said. His voice was rough. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you in my arms. I want to kiss you. I want to see you wake up in the morning. I want to argue with you and make up with you."

  "Oh," she said, breathy and soft.

  "Elle. Marry me."

  Happiness filled her. Justin wasn’t the man she’d imagined for herself. He was so much better.

  She blinked, fighting tears. “Yes," she said. Then, laughing. "Yes!"

  Thank you

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