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“Old is relative,” Grace replied indignantly. “I thought he was your age. Isn’t he like thirty?”
“I’m not quite thirty yet, Missy, and no, he’s a few years older.” Betty Jo frowned. “Are you being serious right now?”
“No, I mean…”
Shit. How did she explain Matt Hawkins to someone like Grace?
“I’m just kidding,” Grace retorted, stepping away. “I mean, when would I see him again anyway, right?” She flashed a quick smile. “Though if we do manage to meet under the mistletoe, I’m going to warn you now. I’m all over that.”
Another knock sounded.
“Speak of the devil,” Grace said.
Betty watched Grace follow her mother and Betty’s sisters out of the room, leaving her alone with her best friend.
Matt Hawkins, a man who’d been in and out of her life since she could remember, and a man who was more broken than she’d ever been. And a man she loved fiercely.
“Hey,” she said softly, walking toward him. “You look so fucking handsome.”
He chuckled. “There goes the Louis Vuitton.”
“You’re worth it.”
He smiled, a slow kind of thing and for one moment, Betty glanced something startling in his eyes. A sense of calm. Maybe peace. It gave her hope and filled her heart with warmth.
Dressed in a black tux, his dark hair slicked back and a few days worth of stubble on his chin, the guy still looked dangerous as all hell, but man did he clean up good. She knew that a lot of women would love to catch him under the mistletoe.
Matt whistled, his eyes moving over her, an appreciative glint in their depths. “Betty Jo Barker, you’ve got to be the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen. Especially considering your affliction.”
Her eyebrow popped up. “Affliction?”
“The flu? Really?”
She opened her mouth to deny his insinuation, but it was Matt, so there was no use in lying.
“No one knows, so you can’t say anything to anyone or I’ll kill you.”
Matt’s eyes shot up at that. “Betty, he needs to know.”
“I just found out yesterday and I’m only a few weeks along and I…with everything going on I didn’t have the time or the right moment to tell him.”
“When’s that gonna be?”
“I don’t know. Speeches?” she replied. He laughed and Betty winked. “So you think I’m beautiful.”
“Yep,” Matt answered. “I do.”
“Well, I’m not sure if it counts because how many brides have you actually laid eyes on?”
“You mean in the same room?”
“Yes, Matt. I mean in the same room.”
“What does that matter,” he said, and walked toward her. He scooped her into a bear hug and Betty Jo clung to him, so full of love for this man. A man who deserved so much more than he was shooting for.
“I hope you find it one day,” she whispered, more to herself than to him, so Betty was surprised when he stiffened and pulled away.
“What was that?”
