“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.