“It really doesn’t.” She tilted her head, her eyes wide and shimmering with some kind of meaning as they held mine. “Let me break it down for you. A boy isn’t just going to hold you until you calm down even though you were just yelling at him and then kiss you like that.” She frowned. “Actually, scratch that. A boy might. A man won’t. If that’s how it went down, he didn’t just kiss you to shut you up or confuse you. He did it because he wanted to.”
I wanted to argue, to insist it was just me and that he didn’t feel the same way, but her words lingered, uncomfortable andundeniable. The thought that he might have feelings for me in return was intoxicating, but as much as I wanted to drift away on a cloud of unrealistic dreams of a happily ever after with him, feelings didn’t really matter anymore.
“Either way,” I said eventually, not arguing or agreeing with her. “This isn’t about what might’ve been if we’d had time. We don’t. My dad is serious about this. I’m walking down the aisle. I just don’t know yet if it’ll be Trent or Gregory I’ll be meeting at the end.”
“He really didn’t say anything after you told him what your dad said?”
I shook my head. “Nope, but I also don’t want him to marry me just because he feels like he has to. On the other hand, if he doesn’t? Well, then I’m going to England. That’s just how my world works. I’ll stuff my face with bangers and mash while watching footy on the telly.”
“Stop using nonsense words.” Stella’s frown deepened. “Are you serious right now? You’re just going to lie down and take it?”
“I don’t have a choice, Stell. At this point, the best I can do is try to rationalize it,” I said, sinking back in the couch cushions. “Gregory is uppity, narcissistic, and a little insufferable, but maybe he won’t makethatbad of a husband. And I want kids. I can still have as many as I want. Isn’t that all that really matters? I can still do my charity work overseas, help people.”
Stella shook her head like she was deciding whether to laugh or cry. “You’re crazy, Lottie. Absolutely crazy.”
My phone rang before I could tell her that in order to survive as a Westwood, one had to be a little crazy. The shrill sound of my ringtone cut through the tension like a knife and my breath caught in my lungs when I looked down at the screen.
Trent.
My heart stuttered, but against all my best reasoning, I swiped to answer. “Hello?”
“Where are you?” he asked without any prelude, that usual Texas drawl sharp and urgent. “Alex says you haven’t been home since we got back, so where are you?”
“Uh, Stella’s place,” I managed, my words trembling. “Why?”
“Text me the address,” he said, and I could hear an engine revving in the background, or maybe that was just my imagination. “I’ll be there soon. I’m already on my way.”
The line went dead and I pulled the phone away from my ear to frown at the screen. Stella raised an eyebrow when I looked back at her. “What was that all about?”
I shrugged, unsure, but I sent a quick text with the address, then realized I had no idea why he was coming.Is it to end things officially? To wish me good luck? Or to save me?
My stomach twisted. I didn’t know if I could live with myself if it turned out to be the latter, but I desperately didn’t want it to be the former. Stella looked at me, worry and fear suddenly creeping into her eyes, but then she leaned forward, set her coffee down, and threw her arms around me.
“Good luck, babe,” she murmured as she hugged me. “I’ll be in my room if you need me, but as soon as he gets here, I’m going to give you some space. I can’t even pretend to understand this whole arranged marriage thing and the last thing you two need is someone else’s opinion on top of all the rest of it.”
I jerked my head in a nod, waiting on pins and needles to find out just what the hell had been going on. Nate didn’t know. Alex had been vague, but not in a way that made me feel like it was deliberate. It just didn’t seem like he knew much either.
Trent arrived only a few minutes later, and as soon as he stepped into the loft, the air charged around me. My heart was hammering so loudly I was sure he could hear it, but God. After not seeing him for a few days, he just seemed sobigagain.
A towering giant in the doorway, he was wearing his usual jeans, boots, and a white T-shirt. No hat but still every inch acowboy. There was dark red stubble on his jaw and his hair was just a touch messy, like he’d styled it when he’d woken up, but it’d refused to play along once he’d left his apartment.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner,” he said, those blue eyes fixed intently on mine. “I had to go to Dallas to tie up some loose ends.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but he reached into his pocket and pulled something out. A small box. My stomach lurched when he strode over and held it out to me. I blinked hard, knowing what generally came in this kind of box but not wanting to jump to any conclusions. “What is that?”
He popped open the top with his thumb, eyes still locked on mine, and revealed a simple, elegant ring. It looked like an antique, the design an intricate vintage knot with a massive diamond inlaid in the gold, smaller diamonds on either side of it.
My throat went dry. “I… I can’t?—”
“You can.” He didn’t let me finish, just gently taking my hand and slipping the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly, like it had been made for me.
My pulse was chaotic, but Trent’s hands were steady, everything about him entirely calm and certain.
“Where are we going?” I managed when I realized he had already turned to start gathering my purse.
“Vegas,” he said. “Don’t worry about the rest of your stuff. We’ll buy what we need when we get there.”
I blinked at him, the weight of the ring on my finger foreign but exhilarating. He couldn’t possibly mean what I thought he meant. “Vegas? You can’t be serious.”
