Page 73 of The Matchmaker's Cottage

He looked like he was going to argue again, but he must have seen the resolute look on her face. The stubborn set of her jaw. Because he sighed. And scrubbed his hands up and down his face roughly, clearing any moisture from his eyes as he did, but leaving them reddened and watery still.

He regarded her for a bit, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped. Then he leaned forward and kissed her, and it surprised her the way all the times before had as well, and she was overcome by the thought that it was both wrong and somehow so right at the same time. The kiss was soft and sweet and tasted warm and familiar, just as she’d imagined he tasted all the times she’d thought of it before. Then he pulled away.

“We’ll be gone by this afternoon,” he promised, and walked away.

* * *

True to hisword, the three celebrities, one beleaguered personal assistant, and Ethan all stood at the front steps waiting for the airport limousines to arrive by three p.m. He—with some help from the magic touch of the formidable Gayle Smart—hadmanaged to get everyone out on the red-eye to New York City—Katy and Noah had business there before heading back to LA, and it was where Emily needed to be as well. They would leave for the airport, then he would put out as many fires as needed, set the tone for the social media reveal of “Noaty” or whatever insipid celebrity portmanteau the two would inspire, file a restraining order against Emily, and go back to his world—the one he was comfortable in. The one he understood. The one where he belonged.

Julia had broken his heart earlier, but he couldn’t pretend he didn’t know why she had done it. It had taken him eight years to come back into her life. Eight years because his own cowardice had kept him from her. If he were her, he wouldn’t trust himself, either. She had a business to run, a livelihood to maintain.

He would just get in the way.

Glancing over tiredly, he noticed Emily had ceased her fixation on him and was instead whispering in Noah’s ear. Noah, for his part, looked politely disinterested. But that had never deterred Emily before.

At least he’s not still trying to get with Juliawas the only clear thought that emanated from the jumble in Ethan’s brain. NotWhat’s going to happen to my newest carefully curated PR couple?orHow will Katy feel?or even less appealing,How will Julia feel?But instead, it was just one big internal sigh of relief. He did glance at Katy, too, though, curious and a bit anxious about her reaction. But to his surprise and relief, he noticed she was occupied with talking to Maggie, and the women were animatedly having a conversation as though savoring their last few moments together.

They had really formed a strong bond, Ethan noted. He wondered if Katy would come back to visit.

The final piece in the puzzle had been to throw the paparazzi off the scent. With the assistance of Ms. Smart, whom he’d finally filled in on the Emily debacle once it had spiraled too far out of his hands, he’d managed to tip them off to a different kind of exclusive: leaked pages from bestselling reclusive author Mason Troy’s long-awaited follow-up novel, supposedly written at the author’s remote cabin retreat. A Mason Troy scoop was too big to ignore, and they all left quickly and with little fanfare.

At least Ethan could give Julia her peace back, if nothing else.

Two cars pulled up the gravel driveway, sleek and black, both with the clear sign of the airport taxi service on their sides.

Julia joined them on the porch as the cars approached, and she observed the scene quietly, an air of calm resignation about her. She avoided Ethan’s glance completely—had avoided him all day, in fact, staying in the kitchen to do her baking and prep for the week ahead.

For his part, he had spent the day walking the grounds, discreetly going back to the shed to give everything a good tidying and cleaning before anyone else used the space. Tried not to let the memories of last night take over until he was unable to do anything.

He had also made the appropriate arrangements to leave and informed the others of their new itinerary. Most had taken it in stride, with the occasional grumble as he practically rushed them out the door.

Now Julia was hugging Katy, giving her words of farewell wrapped in a fond expression in a tone that Ethan couldn’t quite hear but knew would be comforting and kind all at once. She hugged Noah as well, who returned it tightly and saidsomething in her ear that made her laugh out loud as Ethan tried to cool down his internal body temperature.

Emily left without so much as a backward glance, though her assistant did share a kind thank-you, which Julia graciously returned. Then the other two got into their car with their bags and luggage and drove off.

Ethan turned at the sound of a sniffle beside him and saw Maggie, tears rolling down her flushed cheeks. He had missed her farewell with the group, but she seemed to be taking it harder than even Julia.

Julia came to embrace Maggie, saying something quiet in her ear, to which Maggie nodded before turning and walking hastily back into the house.

“It’s tough on her,” Julia murmured, more to herself than to Ethan, though they remained the only two on the porch. “Losing Katy like that.”

Before Ethan could ask her what she meant, a new and unfamiliar car rolled up the gravel drive, as though the universe had decided the last twenty-four hours still hadn’t been quite chaotic enough.

“Who is that?” Julia asked.

It was reminiscent enough of Emily’s unannounced arrival to make him wary, so he watched as the car crept up the drive. What was this—some kind of circus now? Another round of guests piling in and out like a clown car? It was almost comical. It would have been too unbelievable for a story if it hadn’t been his real life—the revolving doors of Donwell. What was it, more vultures looking for some sort of scoop?

But no, this wasn’t paparazzi. This was a luxury vehicle, sleek and tinted, the kind that announced itself without needing to. And there was only one person he knew who drove a carlike that. His heart sank straight to his shoes when he realized who it was.

Things had officially crossed the line from ridiculous to outright absurd.

The car pulled up, and the driver’s-side door opened. A driver emerged and circled the vehicle hastily to open the back door. The second he arrived to pull the handle, however, the door was already opening, and a foot emerged, bare except for a leather sandal.

Incongruously, the sandaled foot preceded perfectly hemmed and tailored suit pants and, Ethan saw as he looked higher, a perfectly tailored crisp white shirt and suit jacket as well. The driver stepped back hastily as the man emerged from the car, before reaching over to close the door behind him, still eager to do his job insomecapacity.

And there stood Ethan’s boss, all six feet of him, in an inky-black and perfectly crisp bespoke suit, leather-strapped sandals on his feet, a steely look in his eyes—minus the one tiny, almost imperceptible twinkle that let Ethan know he was enjoying this too much.

Before Ethan could say or do anything, however—a greeting, an introduction, even a surprised gape—Julia’s voice came from behind him.