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“You made me a sandwich?”
“I could barely think over your stomach rumbling.”
I can feel my cheeks heat, but I take a bite anyway. It’s nothing special, peanut butter and jelly, but I moan when the sweet taste of jam bursts into my mouth.
Damon drags his thumb along my bottom lip, catching some of the jelly, then sucks it off. “I’ve been dying to see that up close.”
“Up close?” I let my thoughts drag over his words.
“Do you have a dress?”
“Your mom brought some.”
He dismisses that. “Misty, do you have a dress?”
I think about the gown I made last year but never had the opportunity to wear it. It’s not practical in the least, more whimsy than black-tie.
I shrug. “It’s probably not appropriate.”
“Sounds perfect.”
As Damon and I enter the grand hall, a hush falls over the crowd. The ballroom is awash in soft lighting emanating from the stunning five-foot-wide chandeliers that sway above us. The floor is filled with women dressed in elegant gowns, their arms linked with men in impeccably tailored suits that could rival Damon’s sharp attire.
Their dresses are nothing like the one I chose. If its plunging neckline wasn’t enough, the vibrant emerald green that brightens my eyes and complements my hair definitely stands out.
I glance up and catch Damon already watching me. His hair is styled back, not a strand out of place. Nothing like the wild mess it was while we stood together in my bathroom. My brain freezes, trying to reconcile the Damon who belongs in this room full of stuffy people and the one that spent an hour making sure my hair was the perfect shade of lavender.
He leans in, dropping his mouth to my ear. “What’s wrong?”
“They’re all looking at us,” I whisper back.
A low chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Let them.”
“I don’t belong here.”
He pulls back and cups the side of my neck, using his thumb to tilt my head up. “You belong with me.”
There’s a twist, snap, pop of emotion flooding my chest. The little voice that normally screams that all of this is just temporary is quiet for once. For now, I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
My lips twist up into a smile, and I pull my shoulders back and face down the judgmental onlookers. “This is going to suck, isn’t it?” I ask.
His laugh vibrates my arm, and he gives me a slight nod. “I tried not to come. You’re the one that insisted.”
“You were supposed to be looking for a wife!” I scoff.
“I already had a wife,” he says darkly, the low rumble erupting goosebumps along my shoulders.
“Is it too late to turn back?” I gesture to the exit.
“Unfortunately, there’s no getting away for you.” He entwines our fingers, giving them a little squeeze before guiding me through the crowd.
We zigzag through the crowd. Damon expertly introduces me as his wife to members of his peers. Each time, it’s the same. Hidden under the congratulations of our marriage, the men want to know what it is about me that caught the Everette heir, and the women watch me with envy, delicately dissecting me with their words.
Of course, no one dares to be outwardly rude.
Instead, we play a dangerous game of backhanded compliments and fake smiles.
They expect me to not understand that when they’re welcoming me into the fold, they’re actually pointing out that I’m an outsider. But I know exactly what’s happening. I’ve played and lost this game before. They’ll tolerate me, but even being married to Damon won’t change that I am not one of them.
