Chapter Ten
I’ve known Phoebe since the day she was born. I actually remember that day pretty clearly. Elijah and Liam had plans to go to Seattle for the day with some of their other friends.
While I don’t remember the details around her birth, I remember Elijah opting to stay home. All on his own at like ten years old, he decided his baby sister was worth more than a day trip with his friends.
I thought he was weird—and still think he’s a little weird—but him choosing her over Seattle meant I got to go to Seattle with my brother and his friends. Beau was too little to go, and Mila was a toddler.
There’s no reason for me to remember this, other than I need to remind myself she’s Elijah’s sister. She’s not really mine. I’m standing here planning forever when all she did was ask me to a dance.
But I can barely breathe as I watch Phoebe float into the room, arms linked with her friend Lani.
She looks like she stepped off the set of a Regency movie. Her hair is perfectly done, the style accenting her natural curls, despite how she clearly tried to tame them. But I don’t want her to tame herself. I can hardly go up to her, though, and tell her I want to give up everything I’ve built with my brothers—or maybe I want to go all caveman on her and drag her back to Clover Creek where she’ll be mine forever.
She smiles at me, and my remaining thoughts dissolve. I could never drag her away anywhere. I would follow her to the ends of the earth, though. I’m not sure if it’s healthy, but holy shit, I can’t imagine my life without her.
At the very least, she’s mine for the night and I’m going to soak in every single second of this dance before I bring her back to her room and—
“Lord Steel,” she says, giggling behind a fan, cutting through my fantasy with a reality that’s far better.
The sound of her sweet voice as she does a quick curtsey has me biting the inside of my cheek. I’m not about to correct her and tell her Liam would be the lord and I’d just be an untitled nothing.
“Lady Decker,” I murmur, kissing the back of her hand.
Her cheeks flush, and she takes my arm.
“I hope you’ll save a few dances for me.”
With a coy smile, she fans herself. “You’ll have to check my dance card when we get there.”
I lean down, pressing my lips to her ear and dropping my voice low enough no one else can hear. I’m so close it would have caused a real scandal if this weren’t the twenty-first century. “If you think I’m letting another man touch you…”
I don’t have to finish my sentence. She receives the message loud and clear.
“Ready to dance?”
She nods, her curls enthusiastically bouncing. We line up along the dance floor—no tables in the way—and the music queues up. Her eyes are sparkling in the low light and I’m falling more in love with each passing moment.
I don’t give a shit if she’s Elijah’s sister. Or if us being together might cause a scandal back home. I don’t even care if she doesn’t want to move back to Clover Creek. It’s just a place. But Phoebe? She’s home.
I glance at the men surrounding me, and they fall in line with curt nods. The music starts and they jump forward, stumbling over their feet a little, but enthusiastic participants nonetheless.
Phoebe’s eyes widen more and more with each pass back to me. “They’re dancing.”
I press my palm lightly to hers. “It is a dance, no?”
“But I didn’t think this would go so well.”
“You planned it. Of course it’s perfect.”
She’s grinning as she dances back to her position. And I’m never ever going to tell her I made these imbeciles show up early this morning for dance lessons and a stern lecture. Turns out they just needed a little tough love and the insight that their girlfriends would appreciate some effort at the dance.
After one guy mentioned who I was, I didn’t shut him down like I normally would. I figured it was better they thought of me as some expert they should follow, and I was right. Normally, I don’t flaunt my wealth around, but casually slipping the word billions into a conversation with college students—and making a promise to help with some of their debt—does wonders for participation during an impromptu dance lesson.
I would do all of it again—over and over again—to see the look of pure joy on Phoebe’s face.
I’m like Cinderella, wishing this night will never end.