Chapter 19 #2
Memories of the mess Brax and Pops made in here not that long ago bring a smile to my face. At the time, I thought it was amazing that Braxton even tried to make Madi something simply because he wanted to help.
Greyson freaking made me breakfast, and not only was it edible, but it was also delicious.
“Hey, y’all.” Elle, the fourth friend who makes up our little quad of Darlings, enters the room with baby Keela propped on her hip.
“I’ve been stuck at home for days with no one but Keela for company while she got over her respiratory infection, and now Cian tells me I’ve missed all the gossip, so get dressed, we’re going to lunch. ”
“I just ate,” I say, knowing full well she has no intention of allowing me to back out since I’m probably three-quarters of the gossip she’s referring to.
“Listen, Sav. I need adult conversation, and you need to tell me what the hell is going on, so you can sit and hold Keela while I eat because I also have not had a meal in months where grabby little fingers weren’t reaching for my food or my nostrils. Fair?”
Elle is a spitfire and nearly impossible to say no to. Especially when she shoves little Keela into my arms.
“Grey made Savvy breakfast in bed this morning.” Madi’s faux-whisper is embarrassing.
“No. Way.” Elle’s gasp is comical. Then she loops her arm through my free one and drags me toward the door. “This I have to hear.”
“Did we have to choose the diner?” I don’t whine, but it’s a near thing. Everyone and their mother will be here this time of day.
“Yes, we did,” Madi calls over her shoulder as she leads the way to a booth in the back, while Elle snags the last highchair from the corner.
It takes a few attempts to actually get Keela to sit in the damn thing though. Who knew babies could make their bodies so stiff they’re impossible to bend when they don’t want to do something?
I have actual sweat dripping between my breasts by the time I get her in the damn thing.
“See?” Elle says. “It’s a good thing she’s so stinking cute, because this girl has an attitude the size of a Georgia moon.”
She pretends to be annoyed, but the love in her eyes outshines it all as she places a teething biscuit on the table in front of Keela.
But then she turns those eyes on me. “Spill. Cian has told me all the important stuff.” She makes a face that indicates she knows about the fake part of our relationship, which makes sense—they’re family too. “But I want the juicy details.”
“I’m not sure what you want me to say.”
“Start with the podcast,” Madi says. “Did you know that the clip of the two of you is still going viral? I bet it’s part of the reason the whole dang country is interested in your love story now.
You could feel the sexual tension in your words.
Dang, if he did a live podcast with you…
” She fans herself, and my cheeks heat. “Geez, Sav. You’d probably break the internet. ”
“Hmm.” Elle taps her chin, and I immediately scan for all available exits. “That might be a really good idea. A way to get your love story out there on your own terms.”
“There’s no story,” I hiss under my breath. “We’re not a love match.”
“Maybe not yet,” Madi waggles her brows like a perverted old man.
“Not ever.”
“But there certainly is chemistry.” There’s no use arguing with Elle. Grey and I do have chemistry…unfortunately, it’s the volatile kind.
“Ugh, she’s back,” Madi groans.
Slowly, I look up just as Elle and Clover turn in the booth to see who’s approaching us.
Bethany has garnered a small posse while I was locked up with Grey. They all look like your typical mean girl, except there’s something different about Bethany.
It only takes a second to spot what it is. It’s her clothing. She looks put together—nice, even. Her standard uniform of cutoffs and tank tops has been traded in for a perfectly tailored shift dress that makes her stand out in little old Happiness, Georgia.
Why the sudden change?
Old insecurities claw to the surface as I inventory myself.
My wardrobe today includes light-wash jeans with holes in the knees and a tank that’s about a decade past its prime but is so soft I can’t get rid of it.
After so many days wearing Grey’s clothes, I was thankful to have my own again and chose comfort over style.
I’m falling apart. It’s been years since I’ve fallen victim to self-doubt, and I’m not about to let some bless-her-heart Barbie be the one to bring me down.
Instantly, I feel myself recoil. Since when do I tear other women down? That’s not the kind of woman I want to be.
I need to get a grip. Riley is not worth the pain I’m causing myself. Grey isn’t… Well, I can’t deny that Grey has a hold on me, but no man or woman should ever have this much control over my self-esteem. Period.
“What’s your problem, Bethany?” Madi asks. She had her own run-in with this woman at a charity auction when she was bidding on Braxton, and by her tone, it doesn’t appear that she’s over it yet.
I’ve never had a problem with Bethany before, but with three women standing behind her like she’s the lead fighter jet, I have to wonder what’s changed.
“I’m petitioning the town,” Bethany says with a flick of her hair. “Not only should you have to live in Happiness for a minimum of ten years, but you should also uphold the good morals our town prides itself on before you can be crowned town sweetheart.”
“Jesus, Bethany. This isn’t high school,” Elle scoffs.
Madi moved to Happiness when she was ten. Clover and I moved here for college, but Elle was born and raised here, and she’s obviously had enough of the dramatics.
We’re starting to draw the attention of everyone in the diner, so I stand, then move closer to Bethany. The last thing I need is more attention.
“It’s not as though I asked for this. I’m thirty years old, Bethany. I have no interest in childhood theatrics.” My voice is low but kind. I’m not looking to make any more enemies today.
“The sweetheart title should never have gone to you in the first place,” she hisses.
“The town held a vote without all the facts, and you may think it’s childish, but it’s been a tradition here in Happiness for almost 175 years.
It’s nearly as important as the Cozy Cup Festival, and they didn’t think twice about bestowing it on someone who turned out to be a stripper. ”
Fucking.
Bitch.
“There are a lot of things I regret, but what I had to do to create a better life for myself will never be one of those things, so take your petty bullshit and ram it up your goddamn ass, you bargain-bin Barbie.”
“What? How—how dare you.” Her gasp of outrage shows what a piss-poor actress she is.
“You can play dress up in your new designer clothes, which appear to be from last season, by the way, but your soul is still screaming knock-off personality.”
She scans me head to toe. “What the hell could Greyson even see in you? You’re a bitch with no morals.”
“I’ll answer that.” Grey’s voice rumbles like a landslide through the too-quiet diner.
So much for not attracting attention.
But having Patch McGee fight my battles isn’t high on my priority list either. He cuts through the women like a knife through room-temperature butter, and I melt.
When did I become such a freaking sucker for this man? He’s giving me a Prince Charming kink, and I don’t appreciate it.
He doesn’t say anything though. His eyes are bright but deadly as he wraps two hands around my head and kisses the living daylights out of me. It’s tongue and teeth and desperate, but over before it really begins, and the second he pulls away, he spits fire at my new nemesis.
“You want to know what I see in her… I’m sorry, what was your name? Bargain-bin-Barbie, was it?”
“Bethany,” she says through clenched teeth, even though she’s still making come-fuck-me eyes at him.
“Right. Barbie, what I see is a woman with fierce loyalty for those she cares about. A woman who doesn’t hesitate to stick up for the little guy, even when it puts her in danger. A woman who loves everyone around her so voraciously, she saves very little for herself.”
He leans down, so he’s eye to eye with her. “And what was it you said about morals? Here’s the thing, Barbie. Savvy was born to be a queen, and a queen makes her own rules. Do you want to know how I take care of my queen?”
Bethany swallows, and even I’m flushing hot.
“By getting on my knees to taste her every chance I get. So tell me, are my morals missing too? Or are you just jealous that Savvy is a hundred times the woman you’ll ever be and has me wrapped so far around her little finger she’ll never begin to untie our connection?
” His attention slides to mine. “Even if she wants to.” My chin drops to my chest when he returns to Bethany because holy freaking shit.
“From where I’m sitting, you’re the one looking green. ”
He kisses the side of my head and begins to turn me back to our friends, but stops. “Oh, and Barbie, the next time you try to intimidate my future wife with your poison pageant posse, you’ll have me to answer to.”
Grey flicks his wrist as if she’s an annoying gnat he has no use for, then guides me back to our booth.
“I—I could have handled that on my own.”
“And you did.” This time, he does kiss my forehead, and all my friends sigh as if we’re in the middle of a rom-com.
“But the thing you should understand is that you don’t have to do it all yourself.
Not anymore. Plus,” he wrinkles his nose in disgust. “She smells like rotting flowers. I didn’t want you to get close enough to bring that stench home to our bed tonight. ”
“Our.” My ass hits the bench seat with the force of an anvil. “Bed.”
Grey grins, and I swear he outshines all the bright fluorescent lighting overhead.
“Why are you doing this?”
My friends don’t even pretend not to listen. At least it’ll save me from attempting to recap this shitshow.
The scent of him attacks my nervous system when he places his cheek to mine, then whispers in my ear, “Because every layer of you that I pull back, the more I learn, the more I crave, the more I want. And I’m done depriving myself of you, sweetheart.”
“What did he say?” Clover hisses to my other two best friends.
“I’m not an onion.”
He finally pulls back, giving me space to breathe and freaking think.
“No, you’re definitely not an onion.” He stands to his full height, his attention snagging on Keela, and his entire form softens.
“You’re more like a rose—simple at first, guarded even, but reveals more as it blooms.” His gaze darts to mine like wildfire, and just as dangerous.
“It’s the perfect name for a daughter too, don’t you think? ”
He reaches out and pats Keela’s head with the gentlest touch, but my lungs have gone up in flames.
“Ladies.” He mimes tipping his hat like a jackass before planting a quick kiss on my lips, and then he saunters out of the diner with a to-go bag that Betty hands him, not giving one shit that everyone in the place is staring at him.
“Boundaries,” I croak. “We need boundaries.”
“Ah, sweetie.” Elle grins and Madi bounces in the seat next to me. “I think you’re well past boundaries with that man. So let’s talk about something fun like, wedding dresses.”
“Wedding dresses,” I echo with no emotion at all. In fact, the blood pounding in my ears drowns them out completely while I stare at Keela, who might be the only one on my side. She grimaces, turns a troubling shade of purple, then her diaper explodes with a cacophony of very impolite sounds.
“Oops,” Elle laughs. “Time for a change.”
No shit…or oh shit, I suppose.
“I’ll set up an appointment at Blushing Bridal for you.” Elle’s still talking about wedding dresses, but my mind is focused on one thing—a daddy’s girl named Rose.