The following weeks went by in a happy bliss. So happy, I almost forgot that Travel and Dining’s lead editor, Eloise Smarts, was coming to interview us for the spread. It was the day before they were due to arrive when I remembered our appointment. I stayed up till well past midnight, making the final preparations for their visit.

When they arrived at the Mess Hall via the CLAS minibus, nerves fluttered in my stomach at the number of people present. The last person to exit the bus was a short woman dressed head to toe in a white linen pantsuit. After the long ride from the airport to the ranch, she did not have a single wrinkle on her clothing—which is incredibly impressive to anyone who has ever worked with linen. She marched right over to me and began talking. “Travel and Dining’s Top Ten is quite an honor. We do hope you understand that, Miss Louanne.” Eloise peered at me over the rim of her purple-framed glasses. Her hand delicately fluttered to her short red bulletproof hair.

Nervously, I rambled, “I certainly do, Eloise. I was speechless when I first heard that CLAS had made the list. Just speechless. Brody took the team out to dinner, then at the very end of the meal, he announced we had made the list! Here I was just doing my best creating simple but beautiful weddings for our clients—”

She held up a perfectly manicured hand to stop me. “Drop the word ‘simple’ right now. There is nothing simple about what you do here. I mean, the views are breathtaking—and not just the mountains—and the staff is gorgeous, but it’s all quite rustic. To bring in elegance and charm to a ranch—well, it’s a miracle really.”

I couldn’t tell if CLAS had been complimented or insulted. Though it was clear that she found our cowboys easy on the eyes. “Thank you?” I replied.

During their visit, I spent the entire day with Eloise and her team of photographers. We tromped over every inch of the ranch. They took pictures of the guest cabins. Georgia and Bridgette had spent an entire week making sure each room was neat as a pin. Memaw’s kitchen was spotless and they got an adorable photo of her standing by her commercial stove wearing her red-checked apron, wooden spoon in hand.

Josie had done up the Mess Hall with our Pink and White Fairy Princess décor I had chosen for the shoot, knowing it would look the best on the glossy pages of the magazine. Colton showed them around the activities we offered families during their stay. The boating, fishing, and horseback riding would all make it into the article. And of course, the barn.

Eloise gasped with delight when she entered the barn. I had gone with ‘Romantic Ranch’ and doubled the number of LED candles and white roses—this time, fresh ones. I had spared no expense, knowing the investment would come back to us two-fold with new clients.

After the full tour and a meal of Memaw’s home cooking, Eloise asked if we could sit in my office for a private interview with ‘America’s Best Wedding Planner.’ (Her words, not mine!)

Eloise pulled a giant notebook from her massive purse. The bag had a woven tapestry look to it and reminded me of Mary Poppins’ bottomless carpetbag. “We’ve spent the day together, but I’d like to get to know you better. Delve into the psyche that is Louanne Dixon. Such a... quaint name.” She gave me a hard stare over her glasses.

Again, compliment or insult? I snuck a peek at my clock on the wall, holding in a sigh. I was exhausted from the prep work for this day, as well as by the tour. I was ready to bid our guest farewell and crawl under my giant heap of fluffy comforters.

She turned to a blank page in her notebook. “Now, tell me about your signature cocktail.”

“I don’t have one,” I shrugged.

Her eyes widened. “What? Every great wedding planner must have a signature cocktail. Now don’t be coy—what is yours?”

“I have a delicious sorbet punch. A minty mock Mojito. Oh, and everyone’s favorite, my raspberry and mint tea. Before I pour the tea over the ice, I add a few frozen raspberries and mint leaves to the glass. The trick is to freeze the mint leaves, too. Any garnish in a cold drink holds up so much better when frozen.”

She jotted a few notes down, murmuring, “And what is the tea spiked with? Rum?”

I gave a chuckle at the idea of rum at one of our weddings. Brody would have a heart attack—or take whoever had brought the hard liquor onto his ranch right over his knee for a sound spanking—if there was rum. “There is no alcohol allowed on the premises. The owner is a staunch teetotaler. Straight edge. Clean as a whistle and as dry as a desert. Hence the name of the ranch—Clean Living and Sunshine.”

She gasped in horror. “No alcohol? Then how do your guests have a good time?”

I answered, “We’ve actually been told that our weddings are better for the family members of the bride and groom—no alcohol, no drama. Without the intoxication, ex-girlfriends no longer feel the need to approach the groom and give one last plea at a reconciliation. Your aunt Glenda isn’t feeling quite as brave and refrains from telling you she thinks you’re a floozy for living with your husband before marriage and that your dress should be cream, not white. And the speeches from the fathers are much more... touching. Without inebriation, humiliating stories about embarrassing thing you did when you were six years old don’t seem to come up as often.”

“Ah—so, you’ve been a bride? Experienced these things firsthand for yourself? Sounds like quite a family you have yourself there, Louanne,” she laughed.

I held up my left hand, signaling to the bare ring finger. “Nope. Just word of mouth from our guests.”

Eloise placed a hand on her chest, drawing back in shock. “You mean to tell me you’re not... married? However do you pull off such beautiful events without being able to tap into your inner bride?”

I shrugged. “Pinterest? My imagination? Lots and lots of lists?”

Eloise leaned in, whispering as if she were telling me her darkest secret while seated in a room full of people. “But please, tell me you aren’t... single? Not with all these handsome, muscular men roaming around? They all look quite... capable.”

“I was single, actually. For years. I’ve only recently become attached. And yes, I’m a lucky girl. I happened to be with one of our, as you put it, capable, men,” I said.

Her eyes lit up. She asked in a hushed whisper, “Which one?”

“Hayes—he’s the one with lighter hair and the blue eyes—”

She smiled. “Oh, those blue-gray eyes? He’s the most handsome for sure. You are a lucky girl, aren’t you? Are you two thinking of tying the knot?”

Hayes had practically proposed marriage within twenty-four hours of our first kiss. But getting married hadn’t really crossed my mind yet. Even though we’d known one another for years, our relationship was still new. “Well, now... I, ah... I don’t know. It’s kind of fresh—”

She interrupted me by clapping her hands together. “You know what would be lovely for the magazine? Just lovely?”

“No... I, ah—”

Excitement rose in her voice. She spoke quickly, her hands clasped before her. “If you and Hayes were to marry, Travel and Dining could cover not just any wedding, but your wedding. The wedding of the wedding planner! Can you imagine how many readers would pick up a copy of our magazine to read your article!”

“We aren’t even engaged,” I said.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you—trust me, it can’t be far off. My second husband looked at me that very same way and we were engaged after only dating two months. Now my third husband on the other hand... I should have known that wasn’t going to work out—”

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, I said, “Eloise, I think it would be best if we just did the article as planned.”

For the first time since she arrived in my office, Eloise got quiet. She leaned in even further than before. “Is it the money? They would pay you quite handsomely, you know. For the rights to the story.”

“What story?” I asked. Frustration began to creep in over my fatigue.

“The wedding planner that finally gets her own dream wedding. Can you imagine the photos? And you—with that perfectly milky skin and rosebud mouth. We might even be able to get you on the cover. Can you imagine the photoshoot? We are talking Vera Wang here. We could get a professional hair and makeup team flown in to do you up gorgeous. I’m sure Eddie will let me put you on the cover. He owes me a favor after I kept quiet about that misprint last month. And the gowns! Oh, the gowns. Vera will be so pleased to know one of our Top Ten is wearing her designs.”

Vera Wang? Designer wedding gowns? Professional hair and makeup? Being photographed for the cover of a magazine? And not to mention the money. Hayes and I could afford a white sand beach vacation. It was tempting. After all, Hayes had kind of sort of already proposed...

Eloise saw me cracking. Placing a soft hand over mine, she said, “Tell you what. You think about it, Louanne. We will focus on this spread—get ready for the Top Ten to go out. Then, just before it goes to print, you let me know if we can attach a sort of ‘stay tuned’ block in there with a photo of you and Hayes announcing the engagement and letting the readers know the coverage of the wedding is coming up in a special edition. Just think about it.”

I couldn’t believe it when the question slipped from my lips. “How long until the magazine goes to print?”

A light shone in her face. “Eight weeks. You have eight weeks to become engaged to that hunk of a man.” She gave me a wink.

I could already feel the Alencon lace brushing against my ‘perfectly milky’ skin.

After Eloise left my office, I sat at my desk, considering her proposal. I was not ready to be married. Engaged, perhaps. I couldn’t deny I had tried on a few giant cubic zirconia rings the last time I was puttering around Target. But married—was I even old enough to be wed?

And the wife of a strict daddy? That was a whole ‘nother commitment in and of itself.

But to be featured in a magazine, head to toe styled in Vera Wang? Professional hair and makeup? That was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

I was ready for the photoshoot, the beautiful dresses, the hair and makeup. I just wasn’t ready for the marriage part.

How could I have my three-tiered vanilla buttercream wedding cake and eat it too? What about a fake engagement? I just had to get Hayes to agree to go along with it. It was too soon for the real thing, but if we just told a little white lie and let Eloise think that we were engaged, I could do the article. Could I get my daddy to agree to the plan? Maybe with a little sweet talking.

I thought over the idea. I had a feeling Daddy was not going to like it. Little knots formed in my stomach at the thought of his eyes turning gray and flashing at me disapprovingly. I didn’t have the nerve to face him. I would leave him a note. Who am I kidding... I would leave him a list. They’d always worked for me in the past!

Carefully, I pulled a sheet of paper from my notebook and got my favorite pen out of my desk drawer. I began writing.

Dearest Hayes,

I have a teeny, tiny favor to ask of you. Eloise from Travel and Dining would love to do a spread about me. She said it would pay handsomely, and I would get to play bride. A team would come out and doll me up in wedding finery and they’d put my picture on the cover. What wedding planner doesn’t have a lifelong dream of getting to wear a Vera Wang gown? The only catch is that the photoshoot would be linked to an article about us getting married. It’s way too soon for that, but this is an opportunity I just can’t pass up. I am proposing we fake the engagement and I do the photoshoot. Now, I know you probably won’t like this idea, so I’ve made a little list for you to think over. Love you!

Louanne

Perfectly Good Reasons to Fake Our Engagement

1. Vera Wang
2. Makeup
3. Hair
4. Being on the cover of a magazine!
5. The money
6. Once in a lifetime opportunity
7. Great for the ranch’s business
8. Will bring in new clients for CLAS
9. Practice for being engaged one day down the road
10. Working with Eloise again—she is awesome
11. Getting a second article in T & D (I still can’t believe we got the first one!)
12. The article about us might bump CLAS’s number up in the T & D’s Top Ten for next year
13. It’s not super dishonest because we love each other, right? It’s just a teeny, tiny white lie.
14. Right?

I chewed on the end of my pen as I read over the list. My arguments were weak at best. But I had to give it a go. Who knew... maybe Hayes would surprise me and say ‘yes.’ Leaving my office, paper in hand, I tromped over the ranch looking for Hayes.

I found him in the back of the Mess Hall, tightening the legs of the benches. We had so many guests in and out these days, Hayes had taken to checking the nuts and bolts on the benches and tables weekly. He smiled brightly when he saw me approach, calling, “Hey, baby girl!”

Rushing over to him, I melted into his arms, murmuring, “Hey, yourself, Daddy.”

His lips met mine, causing a warm liquid feeling to flow through my body. I drank up the endorphins as we kissed, my head feeling fuzzy.

He pulled away too soon, untangling me from his torso. He pulled the crumpled paper from my hands. “What’s this?” he asked, gazing over my scribbled words.

“It’s, ah... a list,” I said, flashing what I hoped was a dazzling smile.

He read over the note. His brow knitted as he murmured, “Perfectly good reasons to fake our engagement?” His eyes flashed up to me once, then his gaze went back to the paper.

My shoulders tensed as I watched him read. I was beginning to think this was a really bad idea. I clasped my hands behind me, waiting for him to finish. As he continued to read, the little muscle in his jaw started twitching.

When he was finished, he handed the paper back to me.

I pasted on a fake smile, saying brightly, “So, what do you think?”

“Absolutely not. And I should take you over my knee for suggesting such a thing,” he growled, running a hand through his sandy hair. “What were you thinking when you wrote this?”

A little shiver ran through me at his threat. I stammered, “I... uh... I honestly I was only thinking of trying on those gorgeous dresses.”

His gray eyes flashed with anger. “Lying to a magazine? Faking the most important commitment you will make in your lifetime? Is that what marriage is to you? A joke?”

I knew Hayes wouldn’t like the idea, per se, but I hadn’t anticipated him being this against it. “It’s just for fun, Daddy. It sounded so princess-like. Getting to have professionals doll you up for the day. Having photographers take your picture in a designer gown. Be on the cover of a magazine. Nearly the past decade of my life has been all about weddings. It makes sense that I would want to get to participate in the glam side of things. Doesn’t it?” I asked.

His firm daddy tone came out. His hands went to his hips as he towered over me. “You’d be participating in dishonesty. And dragging me into the lie with you. That’s naughty, Louanne. And if you don’t see how wrong it is then you need a little trip over my knee to open your eyes. I just finished tightening the legs on this bench. I’d be more than happy to test it out by sitting right down and—”

“I’m sorry! You’re right. It was a terrible idea,” I said, my hands going to my bottom.

He eyed me, unconvinced.

That sinking feeling started welling in my stomach. The pulsing of my pussy wet my panties. My body was confusing me with its sexy/scared reactions. Wasn’t that always the way when you were in trouble and knew you were about to be spanked?

I began to back away from Hayes. I stammered, “I-I’m going to get back to work. Please, just forget I even suggested it. It was a terrible idea.”

Hayes took a step toward me. I began to perspire.

“What kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t spank my little girl when she proposed such a naughty scheme?”

“The forgiving type? Everyone makes mistakes,” I said.

His big hand wrapped around my arm. Seconds later, he was seated on the bench, and I was over his lap. He had done a lovely job on the bench legs—it hadn’t even wobbled when he sat down. “I can’t let this one go, baby girl. Just reading that note made me... so angry.”

“It was meant as a means to an end. I just really wanted the opportunity. I promise, I didn’t mean any harm!” My protests were useless as my skirt was being lifted up and over my bottom. To add to my shame, he tucked the hem of my skirt into its waistband to keep it in place. I had a feeling we were going to be here awhile.

The cool air sent goosebumps down my thighs as I prayed to the heavens above not to let anyone walk into the Mess Hall and see me laying over Daddy’s lap, my white panties on display. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as his hand rested on my waiting bottom.

“Marriage is a sacred bond between two people and should not be made into a joke, young lady. It concerns me how lightly you take that vow—especially considering your career choice.” His hand lightly patted my bottom. Tingles ran from my bottom to my pussy. My buttocks clenched, my pussy tightened as I waited for him to spank me.

He gave my ass a light slap. The sound was loud in the hall, though the spank only stung slightly. “Tell Daddy how sorry you are for wanting to make up a lie.”

“I-I’m very sorry, Daddy. It won’t happen again.” Butterflies tickled my tummy. The balls of my feet pressed into the floor. Was he going to spank me lightly again? It felt so good. Being over his lap and having him chastise me like a naughty little girl while spanking me over my panties was turning me on. My nipples tightened against my bra. My pussy wept and pulsed, wanting to be wrapped around his cock. He spanked me again, on the middle of my bottom. Despite my best efforts to stay still, my hips wiggled. As they did, my clit was pushed against my slick folds, which dug into his muscular hip. I could feel a hard bulge forming in his jeans, his cock hardening against my stomach.

“Oh, Daddy, please don’t spank me anymore. I’ll be such a good girl, I promise!” I cried.

“Daddy’s not done with you yet, little one. You haven’t learned your lesson. Do you need to stand in the corner of this Mess Hall? I’ll leave your skirt up just like this and everyone can come in and admire you in your pretty white panties. They’ll know you were a naughty girl and that your loving daddy took the time to properly punish you. What do you think?” Another delicious stinging spank landed on my bottom.

“Oh, no, Daddy! Only you can see me in my panties! Please don’t make me stand in the corner,” I cried.

“Well, if you don’t want anyone to see your panties, maybe I should take them off.” His fingertips slid into the waistband of my panties. He pulled them down until my bottom was bared. “It would be best to spank this pretty little bottom on the bare, first. Then, when you are in the corner, everyone will see how red Daddy made your ass.”

“No, Daddy, no! Please don’t spank my bare bottom,” I protested. I buried my face in my hands as a shameful grin spread over my face.

His hand came down, a loud ‘smack’ echoed through the hall. He spanked my bare bottom, alternating between hard and light smacks. My skin was becoming warmer with each spank. Tingles danced over my bottom. My pussy was hot and melty. I squeezed my legs together and moved my hips, massaging my clit against his thigh and giving myself pleasure. I had never been so turned on. “I only wanted to look pretty in the magazine, Daddy. Please don’t spank me,” I cried while in my mind, I begged, please don’t stop spanking me!

“I want you to be able to do the magazine, sweetheart.” His hand rested on my warm bottom. “I only want you to do it honestly.”

My hips stopped moving. I turned my head over my shoulder, trying to see his face. I asked, “What are you proposing?”

He pulled my panties up over my bottom. Carefully, he removed the hem of my skirt from my waistband and laid it back down over my bottom. He helped me up from over his legs and sat me on his lap. His arms wrapped protectively around me. His hand went to the side of my face. Those blue-gray eyes locked on mine. He said, “Marry me.”

I froze. His words hung in the air before me. Heat crept up my neck. My heart had trouble finding its rhythm. “I... I... I can’t. We are too young and have only been dating a few weeks and I’d make a terrible wife—you know how bossy I am and—”

His brow furrowed. His jaw clenched. He got that look he gets before I get into big trouble. “Louanne, are you saying no to marrying me now, or ever? Because I don’t date without the intention of the relationship going somewhere. If this isn’t going anywhere, you need to tell me now.”

“What? I’m head over heels in love with you, Hayes! What are you talking about?” I asked.

“I am asking you if you see yourself marrying me or not.” His eyes flashed with concern.

“Are you giving me an ultimatum? Marry you, or break up?” I gasped.

“No. I’m simply asking you to ask yourself what your intentions are,” he said.

What were my intentions? I stammered, “I-I love you, Hayes. Isn’t that enough?”

When he spoke, his words sent a shiver down my spine. Goosebumps rose along my arms. “I love you too, Luna. But I want more than that. Because one day, down the road, after a big fight or a long day, we might not be feeling that love. And until that feeling comes back, I want to know that we made a vow—that we committed ourselves to one another. In good times, and in bad. Marriage is a pact you make with another person that goes beyond love.”

Tears sprang up in my eyes. I had never heard marriage described so beautifully in my entire life—and I had been around a lot of weddings. I threw my arms around Hayes’ neck, burying my face in his chest. “You’re right, Hayes. And I do want to... marry you.”

He pulled me from him, holding my shoulders. He leaned down, his intense stare studying my gaze. “You mean it, Luna?”

I nodded, brushing at the tears that threatened to fall. A huge smile spread across his face. He grabbed me up underneath my arms and stood up, lifted me into the air. I laughed as he spun me around in a circle, yelling, “Yeehaw!” When he finally put me down, I was dizzy, and he had to hold my arms to steady me.

“Let’s do this properly.” Hayes sat me down on the bench. Then, he got down on one knee before me. “Louanne Dixon, will you be my wife?”

“Yes,” I answered, still laughing from his excitement.

My eyes widened as I watched Hayes pull a small black velvet box from his pocket. My hands went to my mouth, covering up my gasp as he opened the little lid with a soft ‘click.’ My heart fluttered at the sight of what was inside the box. A gorgeous ring. The sparkling oval-shaped center diamond looked to be at least two carats and it was framed by a halo of set side stones to add further lavishness to the design. The ring’s shank was also adorned with a triple row of tiny diamonds. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

I gasped. “Where did you get that... have you just been carrying it around with you? Oh, my goodness, Hayes. It’s beautiful.”

He took my left hand in his. Taking the ring from the box, he slipped it onto my ring finger. I held my hand out, watching the diamond sparkle as I turned my finger this way and that under the lights of the Mess Hall. It was gorgeous. Hayes stood up, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “It’s been in my pocket since the day after our first kiss. A man just never knows when he’s going to need to propose.”

It was the most romantic thing I’d heard of. I threw my arms around him and kissed my fiancé.

And in one magical moment I went from wedding planner to bride to be.

* * *

The phone call to Eloise was almost as exciting as telling my sister I was getting married. Josie hopped up and down clapping and begging to be my maid of honor. Eloise shrieked into the phone then began jabbering and planning the multitude of possible poses I could show off potential dresses in. Both women were equally excited.

We told my mother and Alice, Hayes’ mom, together. They cried and hugged one another, both proclaiming they knew this day would come. Then we shared the news with the rest of the ranch at a congratulatory dinner Memaw cooked for us.

Just when the excitement and buzz about the engagement began to die down around the ranch, Eloise sent out Travel and Dining’s photography team. They were followed by a gaggle of over-made-up women who each had about a can of spray in their hair and lipstick that was two shades too dark. But the dresses they brought with them forgave any makeup mistakes they had made.

My goodness, those dresses.

I had longed to put one of those gorgeous, perfect, pure white dresses on my body since I was twelve years old. I got my first subscription to Brides at the age of fifteen. As a teen, when my friends were out partying with the football team, I sat on my bed, doodling designs for wedding gowns. And now, I was finally getting to wear one.

And not just any chain store bridal gown—though I would have been quite happy with that option had this amazing opportunity not presented itself. These dresses were handmade, one of a kind with designer’s names proudly emblazed over the tags.

The one I cherished most was the hand-beaded sparkling sweetheart neckline with the lace-capped sleeves. When the makeup artist unzipped that baby blue garment bag, I knew it was the one, even before the words ‘Vera Wang’ crossed her lips.

Knowing I would soon be wearing that dress, I barely felt the women pulling and tugging at my pin-straight hair as they tried to tease and spray it into submission. “Go light on the makeup. She’s a natural beauty,” the lady in the burgundy lipstick said, smiling at me as she lightly stroked powder on my face. When they were done with me, the woman stood back, admiring their handiwork. Then, they slipped me into the Vera Wang.

Standing before the mirror, tears sprang in my eyes as I twirled. The heavy fabric fell into place so beautifully, I felt as if I were on the set of a movie. The beadwork glimmered and sparkled beneath the lights. I couldn’t take my eyes off the intricate details.

“It’s perfect.”

“She’s perfect.”

“That dress looks like it was made for her.”

“Maybe it was. I always thought Vera might be a fairy godmother in disguise.”

I smiled shyly at their compliments. I felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. And it was time to take my picture. Encapsulate the fleeting moment that would soon be over.

Modeling for a magazine is a lot harder work than it looks. You have to contort your body into all kinds of uncomfortable positions, then tilt your head just so and place your hands in the right location. Then, hold the pose until the cameraman gets the lighting the way he wants it and takes the photo. But with that cool silk against my skin and the weight of the dress pressed against me, I didn’t care.

When it was over, Memaw happily fed the crowd, eager to have them gone. People tended to leave quicker when they were full, ready to have a rest in the bus on the ride back to the airport. Brody had offered them all cabins to stay the night, but they had another shoot in the morning and had to be off.

As the photographer was leaving, he called out to me, “Don’t forget to send Eloise the details for your wedding. She can’t wait!”

A ball of ice formed in my stomach, all the excitement of the photoshoot melting away with his words. I realized I hadn’t yet made a single plan for my own wedding.

As soon as the bus pulled away with the team, I hurried to my office and pulled out my notebook. I needed to make a list. As I sat there, my eyelids started to droop. There was not a word on my paper when Hayes came and took me by the arm, leading me to the truck. He drove me home and tucked me into bed. Before he left, he kissed my forehead and said, “Sweet dreams, baby girl. There will never be a more beautiful bride than you.”

Drifting off to sleep, I smiled, dreaming of lace and silk.