But it didn’t matter. I’d scripted myself a role already—cheerleader and best friend. And I had to play it out. Maybe I wouldn’t get my happy ending, but I could at least make sure the other women did before I forgot who I was. It was the least I could do considering it was my fault they were all here.
Maybe it was time to rethink the rules . . . or at least give them the summer off.
“All right! Let’s go, ladies!” I threw my hands in the air like a cheerleader on steroids. Smiling so brightly it hurt. “Let’s go find love.”
“Yeehaw!” Jessica shouted before all the women threw their arms around me for a big group hug.
In the sea of them, I caught Roman’s eyes. Confusion and pity rolled off him.
I was confused too. Why would my father and great-grandfather send me here if it was hopeless? Maybe they just wanted me to right my wrongs.
And, boy, did I feel how wrong I was.
Chapter XX
Roman
Ihadtoremindmyself not to stare at Demi. Her silhouette in front of the fire was impossible to ignore—the flames licking the air behind her in the twilight of evening, casting gold across her skin. That sundress of hers was doing me in. And every male cast member, apparently.
Each one vied for her attention with nauseating enthusiasm. None of them had a shot. That much I knew. My divine had spoken. Not one of them was her match.
And I could tell Demi knew. She read them—read me—like a book. And I couldn’t say I liked it. It gave her an unfair advantage. Though, judging by the way she’d looked at me before we boarded the wagons, she was confused. Upset.
She had to be wondering, just like I was—what the hell kind of turn had this quest taken?
If none of these yahoos making passes at her were meant for her . . . then who was?
Meanwhile, my Cupid was scripting out another sonnet for her like we had a shot. “Goddess by the Firelight.”
She stands where flame and shadow intertwine,
her sundress clinging to the dusk’s desire.
The stars lean in; her pulse turnsnear-divine,
and mortal hearts ignite with borrowed fire.
Her gaze — half storm, half sanctuary’s grace —
unravels truths we swore we’d never speak.
She reads the ache we hide behind our face
and finds the fault lines trembling in the weak.
Enough.
I made him stop before he tempted me to sing it out loud to her.
That’s all I needed—a sonnet serenade to the goddess by the firelight. My show was already teetering on the edge of cancellation. Especially with Demi determined to turn it into a glorified Hallmark movie with zero drama.
Even now, I could hear her over the fiddle and banjo players providing the music.
“Braden, have you met Maggie yet? She’s seriously the cutest, and you are going to love her. See her over there?”
She pointed across the hoedown at Maggie, who was sipping lemonade and doing her best to stay out of the fray.
What the hell was she doing? I mean, I knew what she was doing. She’d warned me. But damn her.
