Chapter 207

Chapter 207
The next morning.

I thought I was dreaming. Warm, too warm. The AC definitely wasn’t pulling its weight like last night. I groaned, trying to shift, only to realize—oh no, no, no—that warmth wasn’t the blanket.
It was a chest.
A solid, unfairly broad, smugly breathing chest.
I cracked an eye open, and there it was. Nathaniel Lisbon’s face. Inches away from mine. His stupid morning smile already locked and loaded.
“Morning, beautiful,” he murmured, voice low and scratchy, like he’d just rolled out of a romance commercial.
I groaned. “Kill me now.”
Instead of taking the hint, the devil winked. Winked. “You know, for someone who swears she hates me, you look awful cozy in my arms.”
I shoved at him. Or at least, I tried. His arm was basically welded around my waist like I was a teddy bear he wasn’t letting go of. “Let me go, Lisbon.”

“Not a chance,” he said, tightening his hold like I was going to bolt. “Also, has anyone ever told you you’re too pretty in the morning? Seriously. That hair—” he gestured at the mess of tangles framing my face “—looks like a halo. An angel fell into my bed.”

My eyes rolled so hard I swear I saw Texas from orbit. “Yeah, an angel who’s about to stab you with a fork if you don’t shut up.”
He grinned wider. “Even feisty first thing in the morning. Damn, I got lucky.”
I opened my mouth to retort, to snarl something witty, when the sound of a door creaking froze me.
And there it was. The apocalypse.
“—oh my God!” Lara’s voice exploded like a gunshot.

I shot upright—or tried to, except Nathaniel was still glued to me. My blanket slipped, revealing the entire compromising scene: me tangled in his arms, him shirtless and grinning like he won the lottery.

Standing in the doorway? Lara. And his mom. Both grinning like cats who just discovered the cream factory.
“Ohhh, so this is why she’s glowing this morning,” Lara teased, folding her arms with the kind of smugness only an older sister could weaponize.

Nathaniel, the absolute bastard, tightened his hold on me. “Ladies,” he said smoothly, as if he wasn’t the living definition of caught red-handed. “You’re up early.”
His mom chuckled, her eyes sparkling with a mischief I did not expect from her. “I was just coming to wake Aya for breakfast, but I guess someone beat me to it.”
I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. Or at least transport me back to New York where no one knew my life had turned into a rom-com disaster. “This is not—! I didn’t—! We weren’t—!”
“Oh honey,” Lara cut in, smirking so wide it hurt. “Save it. The blush on your face says everything.”
I touched my cheeks. Burning. Betraying me. Damn it.

Nathaniel, meanwhile, was absolutely thriving. “She does blush a lot around me,” he mused, the cockiest smirk in place. “It’s adorable.”

“I hate you,” I hissed, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Ow,” he laughed, not loosening his grip even a fraction. “See, she says she hates me, but look how tight she’s holding onto my shirt. Angel doesn’t want to let go.”
The room exploded with knowing laughter. His mom actually clapped her hands like this was Christmas. “Young love,” she declared, eyes shining. “Nothing like it.”
I buried my face in my hands and groaned. “I hate my life.”
But even as I said it, Nathaniel leaned down, whispering smugly in my ear so only I could hear:
“Careful, darlin’. Keep fighting me like this and I might just think you’re in love with me.”
And the worst part? My heart did a traitorous flip.



After the morning hell of waking up in Nathaniel’s arms and getting roasted alive by his family over breakfast, you’d think I’d have a break. Nope.

Instead, the entire ranch shifted into gear like some kind of medieval military operation. Trucks rolling out. Coolers packed. Kids running around screaming. Aunties shouting about who forgot the extra napkins. And me—confused, coffee in hand, just watching like, what in the yeehaw kingdom is happening now?

“Uh,” I finally asked, trailing after Nathaniel as he lugged a cooler like it weighed nothing. “Why do I feel like we’re going to war?”
He grinned—because of course he did, smug bastard—and tossed the cooler in the back of a pickup. “Not war, darling. The Texas Renaissance Festival.”
I blinked. “The what?”

“Biggest renaissance festival in the whole country,” he said, puffing his chest like he was announcing the arrival of the king. “It’s basically a giant 16th-century village. Jousting, turkey legs the size of your face, knights, queens, blacksmiths, musicians, costumes—”

“Costumes?” I cut in, already suspicious.

“Oh yeah.” His smirk grew wider. “Half the fun is dressing up. You’ll see people in full gowns, corsets, knights in armor, even elves and fairies walking around.”
I squinted. “Wait. Hold up. You’re telling me we’re going to a giant cosplay village where people dress like Game of Thrones rejects and eat turkey legs?”
“Pretty much.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “And before you sass it—trust me. It’s fun.”
“Fun,” I repeated flatly. “Nathaniel, I’m from New York. My idea of fun is brunch with bottomless mimosas, not jousting with a man wearing tights.”
He chuckled, throwing an arm casually around my shoulder like he owned me. “Oh, c’mon, sweetheart. You’ll love it. They’ve got food you’ve never tried, music everywhere, shops selling swords, jewelry, leather boots… plus, you’ll get to see me in a doublet.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. “A what?”

“A doublet. Like a fitted renaissance jacket.” He waggled his brows. “Makes the shoulders pop. Ladies swoon. Aya falls in love.”
I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. “Oh please. If I see you in tights, I’m calling the fire department on you.”
“Good thing I am the fire department,” he shot back, grinning at his own joke.
I groaned, covering my face. “This is going to be a nightmare.”
But deep down—like, way down where I didn’t want to admit it—I felt a tiny spark of curiosity. A whole town dressed up like medieval weirdos? Food, music, chaos? Okay… maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.

Nathaniel, of course, read me like a damn book. “See that look on your face? You’re already excited.”
“I am not!”
“Angel, I’ve kissed you. I know your lying face.”
“Don’t you dare bring up the kiss!” I hissed, my cheeks catching fire.
And just like that, his smirk turned criminal.