Deuce’s voice comes from somewhere to my left. I squint but can’t see him. He must be in the thick bushes over there. What the hell is he doing?
“Tonight’s debutante ball is a special one. Please sit back, relax, and enjoy the presentation of Heaven, Mississippi’s most illustrious woman.”
He pauses, and I’m not sure where to look. I crane my neck but can’t see Betsy anywhere.
“All the way from Auburn Hill, California, we have a thirty-four-year-old professional barista, double major, and all-around grump. She stands at only five foot four, but what she lacks in height she makes up for in frowns and bad temper.”
“That’s not in the script!” I hear Betsy whisper-hiss from somewhere behind the pavilion. Deuce’s only answer is a choked laugh. He clears his throat and tries to keep going. Betsy cuts him off.
“For heaven’s sake, just let me do it.”
Heels clomp against the ground and I finally see her. Betsy’s got her skirt bunched in both hands as she makes her way up the stairs to the pavilion to stand in the center. She lets the skirt fall and looks up, locking eyes with me. Time stands still and my heart quits beating altogether.
Goddamn, she’s beautiful. Her sun-streaked brunette hair is curled with a section pinned back on the side by a dark red rosebud. Her dress is frothy white with tulle on top, a dress fit for Cinderella. Except a black belt cinches it in and the skirt falls to the floor in a sea of more white tulle, this time embroidered with a bramble of black flowers. Her lips are lined in red and her eyelashes are creating a breeze I can feel all the way over here. Her piercings twinkle up both ears in the golden setting sun.
She’s a true Southern belle.
Betsy style.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Betsy
This dress is scratchingthe shit out of my armpits. And Deuce is fucking up the script I carefully crafted over the last week, because Deuce does what he wants. Always.
Well, starting today, I do what I want too.
No more being scared. No more basing my life off my mom’s. No downgrading myself because of what happened with my ex.
Silas Winthrop loves me.
And I love him.
I’ve wasted enough time as it is. I run up the steps, drop my skirt, and lift my head. Silas is here. Sprawled in the single chair, looking absolutely gorgeous in a tuxedo. His gaze locks with mine and we just stare for a few moments. God, it feels good to be back in his presence again.
His gaze then sweeps me from head to toe, slow yet urgent at the same time. Like he needs to see every inch of me to be able to rest easy. To be able to inhale and take in a full breath. I know this because that’s what I’m able to do now that I see him again.When his gaze pulls back to mine, I launch into all the things I’ve been working through this week. All the things he needs to hear.
“I’m Betsy Mae Coldreign. I moved to Heaven, Mississippi, recently from the West Coast. I tried to leave behind all the bullshit and find a home here. Except I messed up and brought some of my past with me, letting it taint—” There’s a snicker from the bush Deuce is hiding in. After an eye roll, I ignore it and soldier on. “I let it ruin my fresh start. I met this man.”
I step forward, feeling my knees quake with each step and it’s not even from the high heels this time. Silas’s lips tilt up at the edges and it’s mesmerizing. Every step closer feels like the last piece of a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle snapping into place. I stop several feet away, afraid if I get too close, I’ll forget my speech and jump into his lap instead. The need to feel his warm skin against mine, to taste his lips, to feel the thud of his heart below my ear is like a drug.
“I met a man who made me mad with how often he smiled. It’s ridiculous to smile that much, you know?” Silas huffs a laugh, that beautiful sound that’s like music to me. “He somehow got me to talk about my past and dream of a future. He taught me to trust people. To make friends. To let down my guard. Hell, he even got me to go on a run in this terrible heat.”
Silas is grinning full out now, those crinkles at the corners of his eyes so familiar I know that he’s my home.
“Then he said the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me and I ruined it. I hurt him and I hurt myself by running away.” I take a step closer and catch a whiff of his cologne hanging in the humid air. “I spent the week talking to friends and family. Examining why I do the things I do. I realized a few things I’d be ashamed to admit to anyone but you, Silas.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up my hand.
“I just have to get this out. You deserve to hear it. I’ve spent so much time running away from my mom’s behavior that Iended up running away from everything. I decided it was easier to shield my heart and be grumpy than it was to risk getting hurt again. You told me very early on that I could trust you, Silas, and this week, I discovered that I do. I do trust you. Entirely.”
Silas stands up and I get to take in the full magic of this man in a tuxedo. He sets a box on the chair and then faces me, his hands reaching for me. Just waiting patiently for me to accept him. I don’t even have to think about it. I just place my hands in his, a part of me easing immediately at the contact.
My throat closes and I know I need to get to this next part quickly. “So, if you don’t mind, would you say it again?”
Silas frowns.
“What you said at The Velvet Throne.”
