Silas inhales sharply, eyeing me like he’s gauging the odds of me running away again. I give him an encouraging head nod. I’m not running away. Ever again.
“Betsy Mae, I’ve hated every second I was away from you this week. The boutique means nothing without you now. No one hums horribly all day long. Not one person has flipped me off this week. No one has tried to run me off the road. It’s been terrible.”
Now it’s my turn to bite back laughter.
He squeezes my hands, tugging me a step closer. So close I can see the various deep blue shades making up his eyes, the integrity of this man that’s been hidden there this whole time. I just didn’t know what integrity looked like.
“So, even if it’s way too soon to say anything, considering you just entered the dating world of Heaven—” He looks down at my ballgown, then back up at me. “I won’t ever lie to you. I love you, Betsy. Still do. Always will.”
There it is. I inhale, letting the words flow over me for a second. I squeeze his hands back and step forward, now so close we can feel the other person breathing.
“I love you too, frat boy.”
I see the way he changes. I see his shoulders gently relax. His eyes sparkle with the knowledge. It’s a heady thing to know my simple words can affect this man so much. We make absolutely no sense being together and yet we fit perfectly.
I lift up on my tiptoes to kiss him, but he takes a step backward. My eyes flutter open, confused. His jaw is clenched, even as his eyes remain soft.
“I’d like to take you out on a date, Betsy Mae. I want todateyou. All the strings. All the benefits that didn’t come with the sex.”
If I didn’t love the man before, I certainly would now. “Yes, I’d like that very much.” I step forward to kiss him again, but he steps back. At this rate, we might end up across the street before I get to kiss the man.
Silas lets go of one of my hands and digs into the inside of his tuxedo. “I bought the debutante a gift.” He pulls out a flat black box and hands it to me.
I have to let him go to take it in my hands. “You didn’t have to?—”
My breath catches as I lift the lid. There’s a string of Tahitian black pearls lying on a bed of yellowed satin. I look back up at Silas, shocked.
“These were my mama’s and her mama before her. As the oldest, they fall to me, but they don’t really suit my coloring. I think she’d love for you to have them.”
I look back down at the string of pearls, knowing exactly how much this means in the South. I extend the box back to Silas. “But, I can’t. These should be Mary London’s.”
Silas pushes the box back to me. “She has the other pearl necklace of Mama’s. Mary London agrees that the black pearls should be yours. Besides, every debutante deserves a gift. These are to formally welcome you to the South.”
He reaches into the box, picks up the string, and gestures for me to turn around. I do, pulling my hair out of the way. He gets the necklace clasped quickly, turning me back around to admire the dark pearls against my pale skin. I reach for them, feeling each smooth bump lying over my heart, knowing the history of who’s worn them before me. A sense of belonging, of history, of family, hits me right between the ribs.
“Perfection.”
“Thank you,” I manage to whisper, tears burning in my eyes.
Silas’s hands come up to cup my face, tilting my head up. “You are a vision, Betsy Mae, but that’s not why I love you. I love you for your courage. I love you for your wit, your spunk, your ability to make me laugh. I love that you jumped in to help me when I needed it most. I love you for defending me like a rabid chihuahua in front of my father.”
“Hey…” I interrupt, not sure I like where this little speech is going.
He slides his thumb up to clamp my lips shut. I glare at him, but he’s unfazed. “It may be backwards, but I love you and I can’t wait to date you.”
And then finally, his lips are on mine. All the heat outside is now right here, between us. He parts my lips and slides his tongue inside like he’s been waiting years to taste me. My head tilts back in surrender and he takes advantage, devouring me like a starving man. I grip his muscled forearms and meet him stroke for stroke. God, I’ve missed him.
A throat clears behind us, but Silas just growls deep in his throat and turns us so his back is to whomever is there. He bites my bottom lip and then is back for more, the type of kiss that can go on for hours. We aren’t anywhere close to being teenagers and yet a long make-out session sounds perfect right about now.
Well, if I can change into something more comfortable first. These heels might kill me.
A throat clears again and Silas rips his mouth from mine to bark at the person. “What?”
“Your dinner is served, a-hole.” Mary London sounds offended.
“Oh!” I pull away from Silas and look around his hulking figure to my friend. “I’m so sorry.”
She shoots me a sideways grin. “You were a little preoccupied, I know.”
