“Yourhand.”
I looked down, convinced I’d hurt myself or—god forbid—lost my ring. Beau’s hand was still wrapped around mine, but his thumb had shifted, just enough to uncover the band of silver nestled against my skin.
Shit.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, shoving my hand into my hoodie pocket.
“Ma’am, I’m not blind,” he shot back, moving toward me. He sat down on my other side and yanked my hand out, staring down at the ring. “This is—holy fuck, did you two get engaged? It’s been like two weeks!”
“It was just a gift,” I said weakly. “Just…a pretty thing.”
“Yes, it’s pretty, butit is on your left ring finger,” Shane said. “Noelle, what the fuck?”
Beau cleared his throat. His thumb started rubbing slowagain over the inside of my wrist, like he was trying to calm both of us down at once.
“It’s not what you think,” he said finally.
Shane raised an eyebrow. “Not an engagement?”
“No,” I said. “Not officially.”
Beau didn’t say a word to that.
Shane looked between us like he’d just walked into the middle of a conversation he hadn’t been invited to. Which, to be fair, he had.
“Wait,” he said. “So it’s like...a secret engagement?”
“No,” I said again, sharper this time. “It’s not.”
Shane kept staring. “You’re wearing a ring. On your ring finger. Given to you by a man who literally said nothing just now to deny that it meant something.”
Beau shifted, pulling in a breath, but I beat him to it.
“It means something,” I said. “It just doesn’t mean that yet.”
Shane’s mouth opened, then closed again. “Okay,” he said slowly. “But like...should we be celebrating or concerned? Because I’m gonna be real, this feels like the kind of thing that would be setting off alarm bells in the real world.”
Flora cleared her throat from over by the stove, not looking up. “This isn’t the real world.”
We all had to take a beat at that. I might have wanted to ask what she meant…but it made perfect sense.
So I let it lie.
Whit let out a low whistle from his spot on the floor, glancing down at the ring. “Town wants you here,” he said. “Welcome to the family.”
Delilah nodded like it was obvious. “It’s fate. You don’t fight that shit. You just lie back and let it steamroll you.”
“Steamroll,” I repeated. “Wow. Thanks.”
“I meant it lovingly,” she said, sipping her tea. “Willow Grove picked you. Done deal. And I’m sure Beau’s happyabout it…but for what it’s worth, I don’t mind having you stick around either.”
Shane looked between all of us, a little wild-eyed. “Okay…what the fuck? We’re all just accepting this? Was there some kind of magical small town mating ritual I missed?”
“You were there,” Delilah said. “It was the part where we almost died. Very romantic.”
“Jesus Christ,” Shane muttered. “Do y’all hear yourselves?”
Holden let out a half-hysterical laugh from across the room. Pickles responded with a warning growl that he ignored. “Finally. Thank you. I was starting to think I’d lost my mind.”
