As ordered, he bent his head and kissed her, deceptively gentle. A teaser, a taste. Her cold lips warmed quickly beneath his, arousal sweeping through her on a wave of warmth. Part of her wanted to blow off the gathering and demand Reaux cart her back to the cabin, to their warm and comfortable bed.
The other part of her realized this was the start of their goodbyes to Serenity and the people she loved. Getting engaged was a solid, definitive step forward in her life, something to celebrate with her friends even as they absorbed the fact she was leaving them.
Intuitive as ever, Reaux eased back and gave her a rueful smile. “I really want to fuck my fiancée, but I suspect you’d rather get the announcement out of the way. Rain check?”
“A brief one.” She hesitated, then slid her hand into his as they turned back toward the clubhouse. “I love you, Boudreaux. You know that, right?”
“I never doubted it.” Ever the gentleman, he tucked her hand through the crook of her elbow and escorted her along the path. “Especially since you already told me.”
She frowned and kept pace with his strides. “I did? When?”
“Right before you passed out after the CNC scene.” He wiped an imaginary tear away from beneath his eye. “It was a beautiful, fervent declaration of the depth of your love for me. A memory I will keep treasured forever.”
Well, she remembered nothing about that. Shooting him a suspicious sideways look, she tried to determine if he was pulling her leg. The problem was, when he acted the fool, he usually hid the truth beneath his idiocy—he was a staunch advocate of the truth.
Even when it hurt.
“Boudreaux,” she said in a warning tone.
“Yes, my sweet?”
“Are you being an asshole?”
“Moi? Of course not. I’m offended by the suggestion.” Gallantly, he helped her up the exterior steps to the house, then opened the door with a flourish; someone was feeling cocky about his fresh engagement. As they stepped inside, he winked at her. “You did tell me you loved me. Perhaps it was not as dramatic as I insinuated?”
“Perhaps?” she mocked.
“It was not as dramatic,” he confessed sheepishly, then shrugged. “It was, however, simple and possibly delirious. Nevertheless, I counted it as a win. Anytime I hear those three words from you, I feel like the most accomplished man on the planet.”
Violet laughed and shook her head. “Because…”
“Because it takes a certain kind of jackass to earn the heart of a woman of your caliber, Violet, and it gives me great satisfaction to be that jackass.”
How was she supposed to resist him when he made fun of himself so easily? Now that she’d stopped shielding herself, she remembered why she’d fallen in love with him in the beginning.
Reaux was unapologetically himself. The dominance, his attitude, sense of humor, morals… he flaunted them all in the best way, never disguising what or who he was. He took pride in being a Dom, in the creation and ownership of Amatory, in just being an all-roundniceguy.
There was no resisting someone like that, not for long anyway.
“I have no problem proclaiming you King of the Jackasses,” Violet told him dryly. “Emperor, even.”
“Because you love me,” he replied smugly, swinging open the door into the bar.
They walked in together, but Violet paused as she scanned the room. Not only because it was the last time she saw her friends before she fractured the group dynamic, but because there was something… different. Call it a sense, a vibration in the air,mild psychic abilities—whatever it was, someone else had news besides her.
Evander, Eli, and Callie were clustered in a happy heap at one end of the line of tables. Grit and Tabitha were at the other end; Tabitha was holding a heated conversation with Merrick—complete with slashing hand movements—while he cuddled Tamsyn close on his lap.
Violet’s gaze narrowed on Liam, Mack, and Sierra. They sat in the middle of the group, both Daddies attentively cradling their Little between them. For the first time in a long time, Liam wasn’t wearing the expression of a man dragged down by his inner struggles; his haggard Viking face was lighter, more carefree.
Mack was positively buoyant as he spoke with Grit, yet his eyes couldn’t stay off his wife for more than a few seconds at a time. Not much different than any other time, she thought, but the way he looked at his wife was the same way Boudreaux kept sneaking glances at Violet.
As for the woman herself… glowing, radiant,content. Much like Liam, the weight she’d carried around her eyes, on her shoulders, was gone. A genuine smile was etched across her mouth, color high in her cheeks, her eyes alive in a manner Violet had never seen them.
“Miracles do happen,” she murmured.
“What was that, Bennie?” Reaux stopped when he realized she wasn’t beside him. “Are you worried about their reaction? They will understand, no? Friends are meant to support each other when they make big decisions.”
She laughed softly. “No, I’m not worried. In fact, I don’t think I need to worry about any of them once we’re gone.” She beamed up at him, her eyes a little damp. “I believe Sierra might have some news of her own to share—far more important than ours, Reaux. Are you okay with that?”
