When I stepped inside the barn, warmth wrapped around me. The air smelled like fresh-cut wood and coffee and the faint tang of paint. It was the comforting chaos of a place in progress.
Elodie was near the restaurant side of the barn with her sleeves pushed up and hair pulled back. Her cheeks were pink from work. She had a rag in her hands and a look on her face like she’d been built for this—like she’d found the exact shape of her happiness and decided to live inside it.
“Clara!” Her bright smile hit me right in the ribs. “Hi. What are you doing here?”
The question wasn’t suspicious. It was delighted.
I realized how much I’d missed that.
“I needed to get out of the house,” I admitted, and then, because I wasn’t ready to unpack anything else, I lifted my chin and added, “I have an idea. You busy?”
Elodie’s eyes lit. “I’m always busy.” Her eyebrows bounced. “What’s the idea?”
I laughed—real laughter, the kind that didn’t have shame clinging to its edges—and followed her deeper into the barn, where the warm light made everything look softer. Finished and unfinished living side by side. The space had beautiful bones. A dream mid-build.
“This place is unreal,” I said, meaning it. “You guys really did this.”
“We’re doing it,” she corrected, but her grin widened. “Okay. Tell me the idea.”
I pulled my phone out and flipped to the notes app where I’d already started drafting bullet points. My lips pulled in as I considered where to start. “Um ... so I never really shared this, but I’ve been doing a bit of bridal modeling—organizing photo shoots, that kind of thing.”
Elodie’s eyes widened. “Um, are you kidding?”
Heat bloomed across my cheeks. I hadn’t shared my passion with anyone outside of Greg and the small friend group I had in the city. It only took one of his colleagues mocking me to solidify the fact that my job wasn’t something people understood.
I set my shoulders, ready to defend myself to my sister. “It’s a real job and takes significant amounts of work for what I do. It’s actually?—”
“Really fucking cool!”
I stared at my sister as her grin grew wider. I blinked.
“Clara!” She bumped me in the shoulder. “Why didn’t you say anything? Do you keep the dresses? Have you met anyone famous? I have so many questions. Have you been in a magazine?”
The heat was back in my cheeks, and I shifted my weight. “I’ve been in lots of magazines, actually.”
Elodie squealed. “Shut. Up.”
My gaze dropped to my boots as I laughed. “So that’s why I popped over today. I want to do a winter bridal shoot.”
Elodie’s face shifted from curiosity to immediate interest. “Here?”
“Here,” I said, heart kicking. “Twinkle lights. Snowy dunes. Barn warmth. Pine trees. The inn. All of it.” I gestured around us like I could scoop the whole place up and package it. “It’s romantic. It’s cozy. It’s ... exactly the vibe.”
Elodie didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
The word hit me so fast it stole my breath.
“Wait. Really?” I blinked at her, not quite believing it was that easy. “Just ... yes?”
Elodie laughed. “Of course. Use it. All of it. The barn, the porch, the tree line. It’s an awesome idea. It’s a family farm, you goose. I want you to feel like you belong here.”
Belong.
The word landed with a dull ache.
I looked away under the guise of clearing my throat. “Okay,” I said, like it was nothing, like my eyes didn’t suddenly feel hot. “Okay. Great. So—practical stuff. I’ll need a date and a time window. I’m thinking late afternoon for light; then we’ll shift inside when it gets dark. I’m getting a photographer and?—”
“El,” a voice cut in. Levi stepped out from behind a half wall, tall and lanky in that teenage way, hair falling into his eyes, carrying a box like he’d been assigned manual labor and decided to endure it with quiet sarcasm.