“I’ll do whatever I can to stay at the top of that list.”
Taking her hand, we head toward the shops.
I plan to pamper Everly with a beach and spa day tomorrow and then the First Annual Boston Bruisers Charity Ball, where we’ll make our debut as a couple—while young and dumb with Princess, I avoided hanging out with the team and her. Partly because she’d flirt with them and because I’d often cringe at the ditzy things she’d say, embarrassing us both. Princess is the original “Head empty” meme.
Why I thought we had a future together was beyond me.
But I’m pumped to see the guys with Everly on my arm. It’ll be a happy reunion to be together again now that we’ve come through reform school.
However, my teammates will crush me when they find out that I’m dress shopping with Everly. Sure, Princess had me wrapped around her finger, but I drew the line at shopping and simply gave her my credit card. Then again, I was younger, dumber. But having graduated to theshopping togetherstage with Everly feels right.
Sitting in the chair reserved for bored husbands, I imagine other stages: shopping at home goods stores, buying a car together, more kids?
Just then, she pops her head out of the dressing room. “I think I found the one.” Her sunny gaze lingers on mine for a long breath.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Her smile is flirty.
“Can I see?”
“Nope. It’s a surprise.” She winks and disappears, taking my trepidation that something is wrong between us with her.
36
EVERLY
I’m the worst at keeping secrets, subterfuge, and masterminding plots. Keeping this from Grey is killing me. But it helps that I feel very fancy with little waves in my hair and a gown fit for a princess, er, queen. I’d rather not think about Princess Braaten aka Princess Papaya—yeah, I’ve been doing my homework—but now that I have, so much makes sense. Or doesn’t, but hopefully it will soon.
The gown I chose for the charity ball is dark blue with lace on the top and the skirt is dusted with sparkly thread that catches the light when I swish and twirl.
When I exit the room at the hotel, Grey stands a few paces down the hall. His eyes widen as I approach, suggesting he likes what he sees.
I turn in a circle.
He admires every second of my spin. “Gorgeous.”
“I could be wearing a paper sack and you’d say that.”
“Not true.” He smirks then adds, “True.”
With an appreciative smile, I lift onto my toes and peck him on the cheek. His trim beard showcases the good looks that often remain hidden.
I whisper in his ear, “And you, Mr. Adams, look dashing.”
His neck flushes. “You think so?”
“We clean up real fancy.”
He extends his elbow for me to take. Grateful for his steadying presence, because he has no idea what’s coming, my heels click on the hotel lobby’s marble floor as we exit. They fall into rhythm with my pulse, which is like a countdown. T-Minus one hour until the falcon lands, aka I got some important info out of Todd and plan to give Grey a belated birthday gift.
A sleek black SUV brings us to the event space hosting the First Annual Boston Bruisers Charity Ball.
Grey’s voice floats to me as we pass through the glittery city, lit up at night. “Even though we’ve been married all along, I’m excited for everyone to meet my wife, Mrs. Adams.”
I lace my fingers in his. “I get a little thrill every time you say it, Mr. Adams.”
Regrettably, I’ve been to numerous events with Todd where he’d parade me around like his trophy wife-to-be and then ignore me when someone who’d give him a leg up on the social ladder came along.
