Chapter Twenty-six – Honey #2
People talked about how cutting toxic people from their lives had changed everything for them, and I’d thought too many people were too quick to cut ties when they should try to work out their problems. I’d thought you needed to give people the opportunity to change and grow and make amends.
Now, I also saw there was a line you had to draw.
A time and place to say, “No more.” I hadn’t expected crossing that line and making such a radical decision with my sister would bring such lightness and relief.
“You know, she’s wrong,” Beckett said softly. “She’s always been wrong.”
He ran a finger along my cheek. He’d done it multiple times over the last few days. It was a new, affectionate touch I found myself craving more of.
“I do know. Chelsea will never have the success she seeks because she doesn’t understand human emotions well enough to portray them in a way viewers will believe. Her acting will always be missing something.”
“I agree, but that wasn’t what I meant. I meant she was wrong about you.
No one ever thought you were ugly. Not before the face masks and surgery…
and certainly not after. It isn’t just Cleaver who fell for you growing up.
You’ve always been beautiful, and not just on the outside.
You’ve always had an inner light that radiated out of you like a beacon, calling us mere mortals home. ”
My heart skipped several beats, and tears swarmed.
But they weren’t sad tears. They weren’t even for my decimated relationship with my sister.
They were for the Maisey of my childhood who’d always thought she was the ugliest person in the room.
They were because I’d let those wounds keep me from the most wonderful thing in my life—they’d kept me from claiming Beckett.
? ? ?
The Carlyle was the only five-star resort near Fallon’s, and it was the complete opposite of the ranch.
The one-room suite Beckett had reserved was modern, sleek, and alive with light.
Black and white and steel blended with Japanese prints and vivid green plants, a far cry from the Victorian-meets-Art-Nouveau charm of the Harrington Ranch.
We’d barely checked in and unloaded my shopping bags and our luggage into the suite when Chief Nattingly called. He wanted Beckett to attend a meeting with fire department brass from multiple counties being held before the evening’s festivities.
Beckett hesitated, torn between his duty and staying at my side.
I insisted he go. Nattingly requesting him proved he considered Beckett first in line to replace him. Beckett needed to do this if he intended to get the chief’s job—and I needed a few minutes to think and plan.
After our encounter with my sister, my mind was spinning, not in the way Chelsea had hoped, but in a direction of all the possibilities that were before me.
I had to find a way to ensure Beckett saw the truth of us as much as I did.
To prove to him that I’d never abandon him, just as he’d never do anything to destroy me.
That we could be one of the rare exceptions, love would never fail us.
Reluctantly, Beckett decided to go to the meeting after I agreed not to leave the room without him.
He kissed me softly, and it felt like a promise.
Not just for tonight, when we’d finally lose ourselves in each other, but for everything that came after, and my heart leapt with not hope, but pure belief.
When he pulled back, he looked like he wanted to say something more, something important, but instead, he went and changed into his Class A’s while I showered.
He was gone when I came out, but he’d left another text, demanding I call him when I was ready, and he’d come and get me.
It sent a warm curl of pleasure through me.
As much as I liked protective Beckett, just like the heroines I read liked their overprotective heroes, it was time to take control of my own story.
I wanted Beckett. Not just tonight. Forever.
And I was determined to make that happen.
I took off the shower cap, careful of the tender knot on the back of my head, and twisted my hair into a loose bun that framed my face with curls.
When the pain spiked, I was forced to sit for a second, but I refused to take anything stronger than ibuprofen.
I wanted to be clearheaded tonight. I wanted every second scored into my memory.
Once the throbbing eased, I removed the bandage on my chin and used practiced strokes of makeup to all but erase the cut and bruising. Plums and grays drew out my green eyes, a deep berry colored my lips, and a dusting of shimmer finished the look.
Then I slipped off the hotel robe, catching my reflection in the mirror. The sheer pink lingerie did nothing to hide my body, and knowing Beckett had seen me buy it, that he’d known exactly what I’d be wearing under my dress tonight, sent a thrill through me.
This was my Cinderella moment—the one little-girl Maisey had dreamed of, the one romance-novel-loving Maisey had always longed for. Tonight, I’d go to the ball with the most handsome man there, and later, we’d devour each other the way I’d always wanted to be devoured.
These moments were all that mattered. The ones we made together. And after, I’d convince him that we could have a lifetime of moments just like these. A hundred years of moments, just like he’d teased in the jewelry store.
I pulled the mulberry mermaid gown I bought off the hanger.
I’d chosen it after trying on dozens of dresses, because it was both daring and elegant.
The front hem skimmed my knees while the back brushed the floor.
The heart-shaped satin bodice offered a teasing glimpse of cleavage, shrouded by a chiffon overlay that swept across my chest and down to my wrists.
The back dipped low, the sheer fabric softening every hint of exposed skin and hiding the bruising on my back.
It was sultry and sophisticated. Perfect.
I zipped up and slipped into sparkling stilettos that would murder my feet by the end of the night but would be absolutely worth it. Then, I did a gleeful little spin in the mirror.
The woman staring back was a far cry from the twelve-year-old Beckett had first kissed. I wasn’t an ugly duckling. I’d never been one. More importantly, I’d slowly proven to myself I wasn’t broken.
The truth was, if Beckett and I had gotten together back in high school, we probably wouldn’t have lasted.
Not because we didn’t love each other, but because we hadn’t yet learned to love ourselves.
We’d needed to heal first, to make peace with the scars we carried so they wouldn’t bleed into our future.
We may have fit together back then, but there would have been gaps between the puzzle pieces.
Now, I truly believed what we were could be sealed tightly and enduringly together. No gaps. No missing links.
I would never leave him. He’d never hurt me.
Tonight could be the beginning of forever.
I was smiling, content—happy, even—as I left the bathroom and picked up the little clutch I’d left on the dresser. I slid my lipstick, ID, hotel room key, and credit card inside before heading for the hotel room door while dialing his number.
It took several rings before he picked up, and I was startled to find him a little breathless.
“Hey, you okay?” I asked.
“It’s already loud in here. I was terrified I wouldn’t hear your call.”
“I’m just leaving the hotel room.”
“No. Wait for me. I’ll come get you.”
The worry in his tone dimmed my joy, bringing back all the reasons why he was concerned. My attacker was still unknown and still out there waiting for me to heed their last warning. And I was doing the exact opposite of what they’d demanded. I was moving closer to what I wanted.
Nerves rattled through me, and I looked both ways down the corridor as I opened the door. It was silent. Not a soul in sight. And the elevator was literally right across from our suite. I let the door shut and hurried the three steps it took to push the down button.
“I’m already at the elevators. Meet me by the staircase,” I told him. He grunted his disapproval as I stepped into the car.
I’d barely put my phone in my bag before the doors were opening again. The elevator had stopped a floor above the lobby, and a gentleman stepped in. Unease skittered through me once more, and rather than stay inside with someone I didn’t know, I brushed past him onto the mezzanine.
I hurried toward the grand staircase made of glass and steel, and the noise from the lobby hit me—music and chatter.
When I glanced over the rail, I saw men and women in tuxedos, Class A’s, or evening gowns, mingling, laughing, already enjoying the night.
The chandelier above them was a phenomenon of intricately woven geometric shapes and vibrant colors that cast rainbow hues over them.
I took the first step, hand on the rail, searching the crowd for Beckett. When I found him, he had his profile to me with his eyes fixed on the elevator banks.
I wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he looked even more handsome than usual.
His hair was slicked back, accentuating the sharp angle of his jawline and the curve of his brow.
The straight cut of his Class A’s stretched perfectly across his broad shoulders.
The two gold stripes on his sleeve and bugles on his collar indicated his rank.
He also had a series of ribbons and medals on his jacket that he’d earned in his service with the department, a telltale sign of not only his bravery but also his dedication to the job.
He looked exactly like a prince in a fairy tale. My prince.
Because he was absolutely, one-hundred-percent mine.
That sent a delightful thrill through me.
No one could take this from me now, especially not the adoration and awe that came over his face as he turned and caught sight of me. This moment was worth everything I’d been through to reach it. All of the events in my past had to have happened for me to land here—with all my dreams coming true.
My happiness spread across my face as I slowly and carefully made my way down to him. By the time I reached the second-to-last step, Beckett was already reaching for me. He placed both hands on my waist, lifted me, spun me around, and then set me down in front of him.
His smile matched mine. Large and full and handsome. Dimple on full display.
“You’re stunning, my Maisey-girl. Except, stunning is actually a useless word for what you are. I’ve never in my life seen anyone or anything as magnificent as you.”
My breath disappeared, tears threatened, but I refused to cry, not even out of happiness tonight. I brushed my hands over his shoulders before meeting his gaze. The love that bloomed full and strong in my heart beat so fiercely against my ribcage I was sure he could hear it. See it. Feel it.
Because that was the simple truth.
I loved Beckett. With every fiber of me. With every thought and hope and dream.
“At the mall,” I said, “you told me I had an inner light, but Beckett, you’re the one who really and truly guides people out of the dark.
If you hadn’t entered my life, I would have always felt stupid and ugly.
You helped me see my own worth. Everything I have and am now is because you saw the real me and allowed me to see it too. ”
He groaned. “I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you and do all the things I promised all week. It might kill me a bit to wait hours to take this dress off you.”
I leaned in and gently put my lips on his. It felt like a gift—the ability to do so as much as the rightness of it. Those happy tears threatened once more. I pulled back, swiping my finger over his mouth to brush away the very faint hint of lipstick I’d left behind.
“That wasn’t enough, darlin’. Not nearly enough. But it’ll have to do for now.” He took my hand, placing it on his arm, and asked, “You ready?”
I nodded, and he guided me forward. As we walked through the ballroom doors, my heart galloped as fast and furious as it did when I rode Titan through the fields at the ranch.
It seemed as if every person in the room swiveled to look in our direction, and I was not imagining the whisper that rushed through the crowd.
Heads bent as people muttered behind hands and champagne glasses, and I wished I could stick up my middle finger and shout, “Screw all you doubters!” Instead, I smiled my largest, most adoring smile up at the man next to me, and he smiled down with the same look I’d seen as I’d descended the staircase. Awe and love.
I didn’t need to hear the words. Beckett loved me as much as I loved him. He’d already shown me in a million little ways over our lifetime together.
And that would never change, no matter how many people in this room were placing bets on just how long we’d last.