Ellie, Ranger, Arielle, and Hunter returned to their suite to slip into more comfortable clothes before breakfast.

Alone in her room for the last time, Ellie toyed with the ring Ranger had given her.

Reservations crowded her mind.

The unfamiliar weight of the platinum band would be a constant reminder of the choices she'd made.

"It's getting late, honey," Arielle called outside the door.

Ellie took a deep breath, shaking herself from her thoughts. She retrieved the new handbag Arielle had picked to match her new outfit. The soft leather was luxurious and smelled faintly of the store it came from. She had never owned anything like it. In fact, she hadn't even carried a handbag to prom.

Her gaze flicked to the wedding dress, now hanging neatly on the back of the door after Arielle had quickly helped her with the laces and buttons earlier.

A sudden, sharp pang of sadness seized her as she thought of all that could have been...

What should have been.

She avoided her crowding, circling thoughts.

When she reached Ranger, his hand found hers, returning her to the moment.

They stepped from the air-conditioned comfort of the hotel lobby into the languid early morning.

A flash of light greeted them, startling her.

The sudden buzz of voices rose around them, followed by more flashes. It took Ellie a moment to realize what was happening.

The press had found us.

Ranger placed his hand on the small of her back and steered her into the car.

"I guess our secret is out," Arielle said with a slight frown, once they were inside.

"It was bound to happen," Hunter commented, adjusting his jacket. "It's fine. Let them speculate."

It wasn't fine for Ellie as tension knotted her insides and her hand shook.

Ranger turned his attention to Ellie, his brow furrowed. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, deciding to put a brave face on it.

Ellie lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, dying a little inside.

This would set their little town on fire, and when they returned, her parents would know.

The thought saddened her, but she refused to let it overwhelm her. There was something about the quality of the morning and the heat of the man beside her that distracted her.

His fresh, woodsy, manly scent was already as familiar to her as the smells of her home.

It was a surprising comfort in the chaos.

When they stopped at a nondescript building, Ellie felt a flicker of confusion.

She suspected that like the place where they bought her wedding dress, there was more to this building than met the eye.

The press already lurked in the shadows.

Cameras flashed in rapid succession, their bright bursts cutting through the early morning gloom like lightning strikes.

Journalists hurled questions at them from all sides, and Ellie did her best to block the chaotic chorus from her mind.

Arielle exited the car first, calm and collected as always, with Hunter right behind her.

Ellie braced herself as Ranger helped her out. His hand a beacon of stability in a sea of uncertainty.

He didn't release her once they stepped onto the sidewalk, guiding her with quiet authority toward the entrance.

Her heart pounded like a brass drum, but Ranger's presence reminded her to keep her chin up and forge on.

Once inside, the noise faded.

The restaurant lobby was an oasis of muted elegance, and a far cry from the war zone they'd just left behind.

Ellie had expected a diner—a cozy, unpretentious place to unwind after the whirlwind of their wedding.

But this was far from it.

The space dripped with style and old-fashioned money.

Polished wood, sparkling crystal chandeliers, and sleek art deco details surrounded her.

The faint scent of lavender and leather lingered in the air, as if the very atmosphere had been carefully curated.

Ellie's gaze darted from detail to detail, and her step almost faltered.

A week ago, Ellie Gardiner wouldn't have made it past the door... but Mrs. Elizabeth MacPherson was a welcome addition to their members list.

They followed the maître d' up a sweeping wooden staircase, his shoes soundless on the carpeted steps.

At the top, they entered a large ballroom, its dim lighting giving the illusion of a starlit evening.

Two round tables were set with fine china, silverware that gleamed under the low light, and white roses in a crystal vase.

There were no other patrons.

Waiters dressed in crisp black uniforms stood at attention near the walls; their expressions neutral and professional.

Starched, white napkins were draped over their right arms in preparation for their guests.

"This place is fancy," Ellie muttered under her breath.

Once again, it drove home the fact that she was out of her element.

Ranger leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing. "You'll get used to it."

She wasn't so sure she wanted to.

The waiters slow-hurried over and pulled out their chairs as soft music filled the room.

The first course arrived within moments, delicate and artfully plated. No menus appeared, and the waiters took no orders.

Ellie stared at the beautiful array of silverware, unsure which one to pick for their shrimp starter.

Sitting across from her, Ranger reached out and pointed her in the right direction.

Heat scalded her cheeks down to her neck.

Course after course followed, each dish more elaborate and decadent than the last.

Ellie was ravenous, and although the food was heavenly, the endless procession began to weigh on her.

Time stretched into infinity as they talked and joked lightly.

She did her best to keep up, but the exhaustion of the night—and the surreal nature of everything—made it hard to focus.

Four musicians entered when the final dessert appeared, and Ellie shifted it away without even tasting it.

Ranger raised a brow at her and cheekily swiped the toffee pudding concoction. Yet even its enticing sweet caramel scent almost made her stomach revolt.

This restaurant wasn't a place where people on a low-calorie diet would come to spend their evenings.

The musicians set up, their instruments gleaming as they tuned them in a far corner of the ballroom.

When they began to play a soft, lilting melody, Ellie turned toward the sound.

It felt like a scene from a movie.

Without a word, Ranger rose from his chair and came around to her side of the table.

He held out his hand, his expression gentle but firm. "Dance with me."

Ellie hesitated for the briefest moment. She hadn't been to a dance since prom, but then she placed her hand in his.

The waiter pulled her chair out as Ranger helped her to her feet.

The floor was theirs.

No one else joined them as they stepped into the middle of the room, the music wrapping around them like a lover's embrace.

Ranger's arm settled at her waist, pulling her closer, while his other hand held hers.

The moment they fell into step, they were in sync.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Ellie blinked, confused. "For what?"

"For doing all this," he clarified, his voice low and warm—sending shivers of delight down her spine. "For agreeing to go along with everything."

She searched his face, and the sincerity of his words made her throat tighten.

"This will save both our families," she said uneasily.

The silence that followed wasn't awkward but comfortable.

Ellie's senses sharpened. She was aware of every inch of him: the strength of his hands, the clean scent of his cologne, and the faint thrum of his beating heart.

The magnetic connection between them was nothing like she expected. Everything she knew about the physical attraction between a man and a woman came from books and her yearning for an unreachable star.

Whatever slowly unfolding between them was powerful enough to scare her.

Her insides were jittery, her mind hazy, yet she wanted this moment to last forever.

"You look beautiful," Ranger murmured, breaking the spell.

Her cheeks flushed, and she started to hate that particular physical reaction.

Is he just saying that because it's what other women would want to hear in my place?

"I have to admit," he continued, his voice a little rough, "seeing you in that wedding dress was... an awakening."

The raw honesty in his voice made her chest tighten.

It wasn't a line, she could tell.

Despite herself, it stung. Because, as much as she appreciated the compliment, it was a reminder that he'd never seen her before—not really.

She'd always been invisible to him as a woman, until now.

Before she could respond, Hunter appeared beside them, clearing his throat dramatically. "Mind if I steal the bride for a bit?"

Ranger's lips quirked into a smirk, and he stepped back, releasing her into Hunter's waiting arms.

As grateful as she was for the interruption, she hated letting go of Ranger.

Her hand felt oddly cold without his, and it wasn't just physical separation that left her aching.

Dancing with Hunter was pleasant, but her thoughts kept drifting.

She couldn't help but think of her father, or how this should've been him.

And she missed Jaden and Lissa.

They should've been here, even if it wasn't a real wedding.

Tears misted her vision, but she blinked them away. One crying session was enough for the night.

She wouldn't ruin this for everyone.

"Time to go," Arielle said as the dance ended.

They returned to the tables. Arielle stifled a yawn, and Ellie found herself doing the same.

She gathered her things, and as she and Ranger walked out, she felt the familiar pressure of his fingers at the small of her back again.

It was steady, warm, and intimate, making her heart ache.

His touch wasn't possessive or demanding—it was grounding as if reminding her that she wasn't alone.

Ellie barely noticed the photographers as she, Ranger, Arielle, and Hunter piled into the vehicle.

The ride back to the hotel was quiet.

Ranger's presence beside her felt more enveloping, and more loaded than ever.

Ellie leaned her head back, exhaustion settling over her like a cloud made of dwarf star.

When her head eventually lolled to the side—landing on his shoulder—she didn't bother moving it.

And Ranger didn't seem to mind. It felt natural, as if she belonged at his side.

The car rolled to a standstill outside their hotel, and she woke with a start.

Her surroundings briefly seemed alien in her sleepy haze.

No one said a word as they slipped from the limo and entered the hotel foyer.

The manager appeared seemingly out of nowhere and said, "The key to the honeymoon suite—as requested." His professional tone was smooth as he handed Ranger a black envelope with gold lettering.

Ellie's cheeks heated, she glanced at Ranger, then quickly away. Her pulse quickened, her insides hollow with trepidation.

"Champagne awaits you, sir," the manager added, bowing slightly before excusing himself with a polite smile.

"Have a nice day," Arielle said, preparing to take her leave. She kissed Ranger on both cheeks before pulling Ellie into a warm hug.

Hunter followed suit, giving his son a firm pat on the shoulder before pressing a chaste kiss on Ellie's cheek. "We'll have dinner together," he said, his tone light but firm. "Arielle will text you the particulars."

Then they were alone.

She glanced at him and wondered if he was as aware of the weight of the moment as she was.