Chapter 36
TRENT
Charlotte barely made it three steps into my parents’ formal living room before she was swept into a whirlpool of big hair, diamonds the size of golf balls, perfume clouds thick enough to choke a bull, and the sugary drawl of women who’d been waiting anxiously to meet the mystery bride.
I didn’t even get to say goodbye, just a flash of her wide eyes before the horde absorbed her. My mom stood off to the side with her arms folded, smirking like she’d known this moment was coming.
“Lord help her,” she said when I reached her side. “Those women smell gossip in the air like sharks smell blood.”
I raked a hand through my hair and nodded, watching Charlotte’s head bob between sequins and teased hair.
At least she was taller than almost every other woman in here.
It made it easier to keep an eye on her, but I glanced at my mother again first. “You’re really going to let them have at her like that? ”
“Honey, she’s holding her own.” She poked my chest with a manicured nail. “Besides, you’re coming with me. We need to talk.”
I groaned out loud. Well, that’s never good. Never, ever good.
She led me down the hall to her study, a room she used for everything from scrapbooking to hosting secret wine nights with the church ladies. When she shut the door behind us, the noise of the house was instantly muted and she turned to me, her expression not sharp, but thoughtful.
I frowned. “What’s up?”
“I’m proud of you,” she said after a few more beats of silence, her gaze finally coming up to meet mine. “I really am, honey. I’m so proud of you.”
My eyebrows shot up to my hairline. “What?”
She laughed, her head shaking lightly. “That face right there tells me everything I need to know. You didn’t think I’d say it, did you?”
“I thought you’d, I don’t know, ask if I’d lost my mind. If I forgot how much you’ve been dying to organize my wedding and how I’d deprived you of the privilege. Again.”
“Well, all that’s true, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about today.” She motioned to the chair across from her desk. “Sit down, Trent.”
I did, a little more confused than I’d ever like to admit. Mom lowered herself into her own seat, folding her hands on the table like she was settling in for a heart-to-heart she’d rehearsed.
“I’ve been thinking a lot these past months,” she said. “Especially after Sadie got married.”
“And had a baby,” I added. “A lot of babies, actually. Don’t forget the grand finale.”
She shot me a pointed look. “As if anyone could forget that, but yes. Watching her with Jameson and seeing how happy she is made me realize how wrong I was.”
“About what?”
“You. Both of you. Marriage.” She exhaled slowly. “For years, I put too much pressure on her, pushing her toward what I thought was secure and respectable. What I thought was right. I nearly broke our relationship doing it.”
I shook my head, those old instincts rearing to the fore. “You didn’t break anything, Mom.”
“I came close.” She waved a hand in a dismissive flick that told me she wasn’t going to argue about this. “Then I turned around and did the same thing to you. I pressured you to settle, to hurry up, and to pick someone neat and tidy. Someone safe.”
My stomach tightened. “Mom—”
“No, let me finish.” Her voice wavered, but only just barely.
This was the part of Claira Shepard people rarely saw, the backbone made of iron beneath all that smooth, southern sophistication.
“I thought I was helping you. It’s a mother’s job to push her children toward the life they’re supposed to want, right?
It took seeing Sadie so genuinely happy to make me realize that happiness doesn’t look the same for everyone. ”
I let that sink in. There were years’ worth of fights, nagging, and prodding buried beneath those words, rivers of tears cried by my sister and a lot of holes punched into the walls of the house I used to live in.
She clasped her hands tighter and lifted her gaze back to mine. “I’m sorry for pushing you, Trent. For making you feel like you owed me some kind of perfect picture.”
“Honestly? It probably was a good thing.” Never thought I’d say that, but hey. It’s true. “At least it made me get my shit together.”
She snorted. “Language.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.” She studied me for a long moment, her eyes narrowing in that way that meant she was about to peel back one layer too many. “Tell me the truth, baby. Do you love her?”
A dozen smart-ass responses came to mind. None made it past my throat. I opened my mouth, closed it again, and finally, after a few more attempts, managed to voice the truth. “Yeah. Yes, I do.”
A knowing smile spread on her lips. “Then why do you look so terrified?”
Why am I terrified? The words have been sitting in my chest like a hot coal. That’s why. I’d said them before, just to the wrong damn person and admitting that I loved Charlotte felt like handing over every vulnerable piece of myself—and hoping she wouldn’t run once she had it.
“I thought I loved Savannah,” I explained after swiping my tongue over my lips. It didn’t put a grain of moisture back on them. “I was sure of it.”
“Did you?”
“No.” I held her gaze. “I think I fooled myself into thinking that I did because of some kind of mental checklist. She was everything I thought I should want.”
“Was she?”
“Yeah,” I said, but almost immediately, I shook my head. “No. Not really.”
Mom leaned forward. “What about Charlotte?”
“It’s different with her,” I said before I could second-guess it.
“It’s just so damn easy, you know? Everything just clicked into place as soon as we let it.
It makes me wonder if I should’ve just kissed her under the mistletoe at that damn party and saved us both the trouble.
It also would’ve saved us from wasting six months of our goddamn lives. ”
Mom put a hand to her chest. “Oh my goodness, you messed up a mistletoe moment?”
I groaned. “Don’t make it worse.”
She grinned, obviously too delighted. “Sweetheart, I can’t make it worse. Your bride is going to give you hell for that forever.”
“She already is.”
“I like it.” Her grin widened. “So do you.”
I didn’t argue because she was right. Charlotte’s fire and her stubborn streak were a big part of why I’d fallen for her. I loved that she refused to settle and that she knew exactly what she wanted, even if she sometimes doubted that she should.
There was a whole heap of daddy issues there.
I got that, but it didn’t scare me. I knew Douglas and how he’d treated his kids.
Charlotte deserved so much better than the scraps of love and attention he’d thrown her way and I intended on showing her just exactly how fucking amazing she was every chance I got.
Mom stood and rounded the desk, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. “You chose well, honey. She’s good for you.”
My throat tightened. “Do you really think so?”
“I know so.”
Through the window, I caught a glimpse of her outside with the other women, laughing in a way that wasn’t fake or put on at all.
Her whole face was lit up with it, and I grinned at the sight.
The barbecue was in full swing, and if she could be that happy with her present company, she wasn’t just going to survive here in Texas.
She was going to thrive if she just let herself.
I stood up to go join her, but it turned out that my mother wasn’t done with me yet. Not by a long shot.
Just when I thought she might let me escape, she turned toward the built-in cabinets against the far wall, humming under her breath like a woman up to no good.
Her bangles clinked as she bent down, dragging out a plastic storage bin covered in a thin film of glitter.
Everything in this room had glitter on it.
“Mom,” I warned. “Whatever that—”
“Oh, hush,” she said, swatting the air as she popped open the lid. “I’ve been meaning to give this to you for ages.”
She turned the box toward me, and inside, it was filled to the brim with baby clothes. “These were yours. It’s only right you have them back.”
There were onesies the color of old buttercream, a tiny denim jacket with my name embroidered on the chest, and baby-sized cowboy boots that were honestly offensive to look at. I groaned so loud I was surprised the foundations of the dang house didn’t shake. “You can’t be serious.”
Mom clucked her tongue. “Sadie keeps having girls. Apparently the Lord has a sense of humor, because she’s absolutely determined to carry on the family name, but unless she starts naming her daughters Shepard, that responsibility falls to you.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “We just got married.”
“Yes.”
“In Vegas.”
“Yes.”
“While absolutely wasted.”
Mom’s smile curled like she was about two seconds from cackling. “It’s funny you should say that, because it’s almost exactly how your father and I ended up together.”
I jerked my head up. “No.”
“Oh yes.” She winked, sliding the box toward me with both hands. “History repeats itself, sweetheart. Take it. You’ll be needing these one day. Sooner is better.”
I muttered something that definitely would’ve gotten me more than just a one-word admonishment about my language, and hauled the box into my arms. At least Mom seemed to be done this time, opening the door and motioning for me to precede her back downstairs.
The hum of chatter rose with every step.
When we emerged into the chaos of the main floor, I found Charlotte in the exact opposite of safety.
She was surrounded by a swarm of retired pageant queens, their hair lacquered to architectural heights, their pearls gleaming, and they had her cornered by the window.
Every single one of them ran a foundation or a charity, hosting galas and luncheons like the world depended solely on them.
They’d scented fresh blood, but my mom had been right earlier.
My wife was holding her own like she’d trained for this.
I had half a mind to wade into the fray anyway and pull her out fireman style, but then she laughed and something in my chest expanded.
Too much. Too fast. Maybe. Or maybe this is just what it feels like when something starts fitting into place on its own.
Before I could unpack any of that, gravel crunched outside with another car rolling up the drive. Relief swept through me when Jameson stepped out, Sadie on his arm, baby carrier in one hand and diaper bag in the other.
I headed straight for them, barely giving Jameson time to blink before I took the carrier from him. “Here, let me take at least one of them.”
I peeked inside to find little Reagan blinking up at me with her father’s unimpressed expression on her tiny face. “Hey, baby girl. Hi. I’m your uncle Trent. Remember me? I haven’t seen you for a little while.”
“Sorry we’re late.” Sadie sighed, brushing her hair out of her face. “Traffic was awful getting through the city.”
I hugged her with my free arm and she grinned. “Congrats, big brother.”
Jameson stepped closer. “Congratulations. You’re officially part of the Westwood chaos now. I would’ve bought a condolences card if we’d had time to stop.”
Although he’d seemed fine at first glance, the skin around his eyes was tight. Something about the way he said it had been off, too. He was distracted and tense. I knew this guy almost as well as I knew myself and I knew damn well when something was wrong.
Mom appeared by our sides, flinging her arms around my sister and then helping her to get the other three kids out of the car. Sadie grabbed the baby carrier from me, but Jameson didn’t move, pulling me a little further aside once they disappeared into the house.
I narrowed my eyes at him as soon as we were alone. “Thanks, but I don’t need condolences. I went into this with over twenty years of experience with your family’s chaos. Which brings me to my next question. What’s going on with you?”
He hesitated, his jaw tightening the way it always did when he was trying to decide how much truth to hand over. But finally, he just let out a long sigh and brought those piercing hazel eyes to mine.
“I’ve been talking to Nate, Trent. Are you aware of what’s happening in Chicago right now?”