Page 130 of The Fine Art of Faking It
He nodded, stroking those warm palms over her back. “I most certainly did. If my father wants an operations manager who kisses his ass, he can hire outside the family. I’m done with the status quo. It’s me and my ideas, or the family legacy gets turned over to a stranger. You, on the other hand, mean everything to me. I’ll walk away from the winery, but not you, Eden. Never again.”
“I love you.” Eden blurted it out before she could chicken out. He’d shown up with a marching band after she’d rejected him. The least she could do was tell him how she felt.
Davis froze, mid-sway on the dance floor. “I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t feel like you have to say it back,” she said quickly. “I just wanted you to know that I don’t know how or when it happened, but I’m in love with you, and before you showed up with the marching band, I was trying to figure out how to back out of the whole break-up thing. I’d rather be happy than right. Although in this case, I wasn’t even right. And I’d rather be happy and wrong with you.” And now she was babbling.
“Done?” Davis asked with a warm smile.
She nodded, not trusting herself to open her mouth again.
“Good. Because I love you, Eden Moody. And someday we’re going to get married and have babies and dogs and force our families into regular social situations. But for now, it’s just you and me, and I’m really happy about that.”
A crop of goosebumps erupted on every square inch of Eden’s body. Tears prickled the back of her eyes as Bon Jovi wailed over the speakers. And somewhere deep inside her, a seventeen-year-old girl finally got her win.
52
Leaning heavily on his high school gym class dance lessons, Davis whirled Elvira Eustace around the floor. Their feet tapped out a fun beat while hologram snowflakes fell from the ceiling of the gym, highlighting Elvira’s salt and pepper curls.
“Ladies and gentleman,” a voice shouted over the music. “If I could have your attention for one moment.” Bruce Oakleigh blew into the microphone on the blue and silver swagged stage. He was wearing a blue sweater vest with a chubby snowman on it. The music cut off abruptly.
“Thank you. Gather ‘round. Gather ‘round.” He waved the crowd toward the stage. “As you know, we like to present the Blue Moon Business of the Year Award during our annual HeHa celebration.”
Davis felt Eden tense next to him.
“Every year, the city council strives to recognize a business that exemplifies Blue Moon’s mission of inclusivity, community service, and all-around excellent karma. Or, depending on our town budget, it is awarded to the business that makes the largest donation.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Eden hissed.
“I’m just kidding, folks,” Bruce chuckled, holding up his hands.
Davis squeezed Eden’s hand and held his breath.
“As always, the committee had its work cut out for it in determining the business that best exemplifies our mission. But this year, we had a clear winner. This year’s recipient not only made it a point to be involved in the community, to give back in creative ways, and to show a vast growth that goes beyond mere economics and success but was also willing to embrace their neighbors in a very literal sense.”
“Pick me. Pick me. Pick me,” Eden muttered under her breath.
“This year’s recipient was brave enough to put their happiness in the hands of his or her community, which is a level of vulnerability and openness that we should all strive for.”
“Moveitalong,” Ellery coughed into her hand at Eden’s elbow.
“This year’s recipient, if I may wax poetic for a several minutes—”
“Bruce, we’ve only got about ten seconds before people start sitting down and falling asleep,” Beckett pointed out, taking the stage and doing his mayoral best to move things along.
Bruce looked disappointed. “I suppose it’s too much to request a fanfare or a drumroll when we announce Eden Moody’s name?”
Shrill whistles cut through the crowd. Sammy and Layla reacted with raucous hoots and squeals.
“What did he say?” Eden asked, squeezing Davis’s bicep. “Was thatmyname?”
“Get up there, gorgeous,” he said, giving her a gentle shove toward the stage.
The DJ played a riff as she walked across the stage, and Davis looked on with satisfaction. Yes, few things were more rewarding than seeing the one you loved get something they so desperately wanted. She was radiant. And she was his. He’d fought for her and earned her.
Bruce shook Eden’s hand and leaned into the microphone. “Unfortunately, due to budget constraints, we couldn’t afford a trophy this year, but you will have the satisfaction of knowing that had there been a trophy, you would have received it.”
Eden made eye contact with Davis, and they both shared a private grin.Of coursethere was no trophy this year. He’d give her one of his… or better yet, he’d have one made for her, Davis decided.
