Page 54 of Filthy Twisted Devil

“With all the competition for workers this time of year? We’re lucky to have the farmhands we got.” He glances over at me. “People are leaving for the city these days. They seem to think life out here isn’t worth it.”

Familiar irritation burns in my chest. Wade has taken me on this guilt trip dozens of times in the past few years. I'm not in the mood to hear it, especially on Christmas. Luckily, before he manages to start an argument, my phone buzzes with a call.

“Sorry, I should take this,” I tell Mom. “It's Brinley.”

“Tell her Merry Christmas for me,” Mom says.

Grabbing my coffee, I walk out onto our wraparound porch. Here, we have the best view of the ranch—the rolling prairie hills, currently coated with frost, the winding dirt drive up from the road, the old barn in the front. To the right, you can see the industrial barns and the small blurs of animals walking in the fields. I can’t count how many hours I’ve spent on this porch, in a rocking chair or the wooden swing, reading or daydreaming.

In the winter, we keep wool blankets in a chest so Mom can still sit on the swing and look out on the nearby prairie. I grab a blanket for myself as I pick up.

“Merry Christmas!” Brinley says.

“You too! How are you feeling?”

“Amazing. A little hungover, but amazing. Not so long ago, it seemed like this engagement would never happen.”

“But it did, and you deserve it. I'm obsessed with your ring by the way.”

“Beau says you approved it.”

“Obviously. What if he had tried to buy you some giant pink heart-shaped diamond monstrosity?”

“Then you would have murdered him, as is your duty as best friend.”

“Of course I would have. So, I know you haven't had much time, but have you started thinking about the wedding yet?”

“Actually, I have. You're under no obligation to say yes, and you can tell me if it’s too weird. But I was thinking it might be nice to have the wedding at your family’s ranch this summer? I know, it’s a working ranch, and you don’t normally do this, but it might be romantic to do a barn-house wedding.”

I grin. Brinley’s dropping this like it’s an idea she just came up with, but I know it’s always been her dream to get married here. My parents upgraded to an industrial-sized barn when I was a kid, leaving the old barn house for storage.

Brinley and I used to wander around it during the summer, shoving aside old farm equipment to create an aisle and turning a wooden trough on its side to be the altar. We pointed out where we’d hang twinkly lights, where the woman with an acoustic guitar would play, and where we’d put the flowers. We were both a little too self-conscious to pretend it was our weddings we were imagining. Instead, we talked about starting our own business renting out the barn to local brides. At age thirteen, it all seemed possible. Maybe that’s when I planted the seed of starting an event planning business.

Now, of course, I know the ranch wedding was Brinley’s dream, and I know what it’s costing her to ask.

“I’ll talk to my family, but I think it’s a great idea,” I tell her. “And if you think I’m not planning your wedding, you’re crazy.”

“Of course you are!” She laughs. “There’s nobody else I’d rather spend Beau’s money on.”

“Hey!” I hear Beau yell from the background. “Who are you talking to?”

“Eden!”

“Oh, yeah. Well she can have my money. She has to put up with Luke, so she deserves it.”

“Speaking of Luke, I can’t believe you told everyone last night,” Brinley says.

I pull the wool blanket tighter around me. “I’d been thinking about it for a while. It makes life easier if I can stop pretending in front of everyone. Look, let me go in and ask Mom about the wedding. I’ll text you with the answer.”

“Thanks, Eden. Merry Christmas!”

I expect Mom to say yes, and she does. What I don’t expect is for Wade to agree without an argument.

“Seriously?” I demand. “You’re not going to complain about pausing work and interrupting the farm schedule for a wedding?”

“What?” He shrugs. “Brinley’s a good girl, and I’m rooting for love.”

“Why haven’t you ever introduced me to a girlfriend, then?” Mom asks.