The cool fabric made her shiver as it fell to floor with a swish. “You sure I don’t look like a walking disco ball?”
“Isn’t that kind of the point? The 70’s was the disco era, right? And of all the walking disco balls in the world, you’re my favorite.”
She snorted. “I’m really not sure you’re helping much right now, Catriona Reynolds.”
With a shrug, Cat reached out and squeezed her hand. “I think you look like a million bucks, Mom. Don’t let your inner critic screw you over tonight. Okay? I forbid it.”
Stepping forward to cradle her daughter’s cheeks, Clare sighed. “When did you get so sensible?”
“Had a pretty good teacher.”
The doorbell chimed, and her stomach clenched. She’d known this man since before he could aim correctly in a toilet bowl. Why was she so damned nervous? The tiny voice at the back of her head screamed that he might leave her again and not to let him back into her heart, but they both knew it was already too late. He’d never really left.
Smoothing down her dress she did a small spin for Cat who nodded with a wide grin still stuck on her face. She reached over onto the bed and picked up Clare’s gold clutch and handed it to her. “I’ll go let him in. You put your shoes on.”
Clare nodded and slid her feet into the sandals then pulled out the rollers and floofed and sprayed her hair. With a deep breath, she tucked some lipstick into her purse and took one last look at herself in the mirror. It was too late to change anything, so she headed downstairs.
Elliott waited for her at the bottom of the stairs, and when she got close enough, he whistled through his teeth and stretched out a hand to help her down the last few steps. “You… Wow, Ceecee. You look…wow. Just…stunning.”
His wide eyes drifted over her from head to toe, almost caressing her with a stare so intense she wanted to clench her thighs—but didn’t want to be too obvious in such a form-fitting dress. When she stepped off the last stair next to him, her face and neck heated.
“You sure? I have a ‘Y’all need feminism’ shirt fresh out of the laundry that I could pair with some ripped jeans and boots if you’d rather.”
He swept his hand across her cheek with a touch so soft it almost brought her to tears. “You’d rock the shit out of that get up, but no, I think you look pretty perfect just as you are.” He turned to the little table behind him in the entry way, picked up a box, and handed it to her with a shrug.
“I wanted to do it right.”
Her chest warmed as she opened the box and trailed her fingers over the delicate corsage. Tiny cream flowers with a sparkle in the center, pearls and gold leaves finished with cream ribbon bows and set on a pearl elastic bracelet. Delicate, beautiful, and it matched her dress.
Not bad, Swift. Not bad at all.
He slipped it over her hand and placed it on her wrist with an affirming nod.
“You look mighty pleased with yourself, Eli.” She brushed at the lapel on his tuxedo jacket to remove some lint.
“It took me an embarrassingly long time to choose that corsage. I’m just glad it goes with your dress.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at the strained expression on his face.
“Come in here! Let me get a picture of you before you go.”
They followed Catriona’s voice into the living room where she stood by the fireplace, phone in one hand and Nikon DSLR camera in the other. She must have gotten her creativity from her sperm donor, because the photos she took with even just a cell phone were more breathtakingly beautiful than anything Clare had ever done in her entire life.
“You gonna make us pose like real prom pictures?” She arched a brow at her daughter.
“Damn straight. You remember how OTT you were for my prom? This is my revenge.”
Elliott grunted, seemingly to hide the chuckle shaking his body, but Clare wasn’t letting him get away with it. “Don’t encourage her, Elliott.”
He held his hands up. “From where I stand she doesn’t need any encouragement.”
“Hashtag fact. Now hurry up, stand nice or you’ll be late. I need pictures for the album and pictures for the socials.” She held up each hand as she spoke.
A grueling fifteen minutes later and Clare was over it. “Let’s go.”
Catriona nodded as she flicked through the pictures on the screen at the back of her camera with a dreamy sigh. “Look.” She turned the camera around and an involuntary squeak escaped Clare. Was that really her?
“Do you believe me now? You look amazing, Mom. I wish I was going to prom.” She dropped her camera to her side with another dramatic sigh.
