“Second, you’re giving a speech, Dallas, because they’re all expecting one.”
Aiden sighs. “What my son is trying to say is, just thank them all for coming and tell them when and where it’s happening.”
I blink.
Dallas glances down at me. “Um .?.?. we haven’t thought about any of that yet.”
Noah checks his watch. “Well, you’ve got thirty minutes to figure it out and let everyone here know.”
Dallas runs a hand down his face. “I need air.”
Aiden, Wilder, and Noah step aside to give him space, but Connor doesn’t. He stares at his oldest son like he means business. “If youdoget up there, remember who you’re talking to. This is your town. Your friends. They’ll smell bullshit. They’ll know you’re not being real. Don’t give them a reason to doubt this.”
17
Glenda’s wearing a tight navy dress, leaning against the piano, and chatting to a few guests, a thin smile on her lips.
Her neck twists and our eyes meet.
No doubt about it—this woman’s aiming for mayor or something, and she’s making sure everyone knows no one’s above the law, no matter their land or money.
I turn to Willow. She’s been amazing tonight. Patient, easy, responsive to my every subtle gesture. She doesn’t question anything. Doesn’t go off-script. Instantly likable.
I’m about to give her a warning that Glenda is heading this way, but she cuts me off. “Let me do it.”
“What?”
“The speech. Look, I know it’s the last thing you want to do, but I don’t know these people—or I won’t for long anyway. I can say a few words and we can call it a night. Just give me the cue when.”
It takes me a minute to respond. My eyes scan this woman who keeps surprising me. I grin. “Slow down, superwoman. I don’t doubt you can say all the words. But I think it needs to be me.”
At some point, she needs to stop being my hero and let me be hers. She’s done enough this week—and tonight’s been trying for her. I can tell by the slump of her shoulders as the night went on. That bright smile starting to dim. The fidgeting with her ring less aggressive—like she’s lost the energy.
She smiles up at me weakly.
“What I was going to tell you was—”
“And when do I get to meet the blushing bride?” Glenda’s voice is sharp, but her perfume carries something stronger.
Willow doesn’t flinch. She shifts closer to me. Her fingers brush mine. I catch the signal and slide my hand into hers like it belongs there.
Willow puts out her hand, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “No blushing here,” she says, the smooth confidence back in her voice like she’s been saving it.
Glenda takes her hand. “Congratulations, I guess?”
Willow feigns confusion, then laughs. “Oh, I get it. OK, bring on all the ‘married life’ comments, we can take it. But we’re not worried, are we, my love?”
A ball catches in my throat, jaw tightening as I suppress the swallow. For a second, I forget we’re pretending. Forget there’s anyone else in the room at all. They’re just two words. A line. An intention to sell this. But my chest goes tight regardless. “Not at all,” I manage to say. “I do like myself a good challenge.”
Glenda glares at me. Then turns a fake smile on my fiancée.
My very real fiancée, because apparently—there’s going to be a very real wedding.
“So tell us about yourself, Willow.” She looks around. “Is your family here?”
“Think you misunderstood the invitation, Glenda,” I start sharply. “We invited folks who want to celebrate our union—not question it.”
Willow grazes my arm. “It’s all right.” She turns a tight grin toward Glenda. “TheThornesare my family, now. So if you’ll excuse us .?.?.”
