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“As it should be. You only get married once, right?”
“In theory.”
“Yeah, I suppose in theory. The romantic in me says it’s one and done. I’d kill you before letting you leave me.”
Gavin shot me an exasperated look. “That’s sufficiently terrifying.”
“I’m all bite.”
“And since when are you a romantic? I didn’t think you ever wanted to get married.”
“Who says they never want to get married? Even you had a wedding ring handy like in your sock drawer or whatever. You clearly had planned on it or at least thought about it.”
“Yeah, well, my mom gave it to me after my grandma died. It’s been chilling in my drawer for a while.”
I shrugged and lounged back. I was still in the shorts and tank I’d fallen asleep in. I’d already fixed my hair and makeup, but I wasn’t quite ready to get into my dress. Gavin slipped his suit jacket on with the pink tie hanging loose around his neck.
“Romantic, King.”
I set the coffee down and crossed to him, threading the tie through my fingers. My dad had taught me how to knot a tie at a young age so that I could help him get ready for church services. He had a thousand different ties, and I’d loved being the one who got to pick it out. I’d practically learned tie knotting before I could tie my shoes.
That was a long time ago. Dad and I weren’t on great terms. But old habits die hard.
“What are you doing?”
“Tying aperfectfull Windsor.”
“Is that what we’re calling it nowadays?”
“Stop moving,” I ordered. “I’ve got this.”
I felt Gavin’s eyes on the top of my head, but I didn’t lift my gaze to meet his until I pulled the tie knot through.
“My masterpiece,” I said when I finished.
There was no amusement in his expression when I met his gaze. My breath hitched at the look in his bright emerald eyes. Not desire—or notsimplydesire. It was tinged with something deeper—admiration and trust. Something much more dangerous than pure desire. Desire could be thwarted and cast off. This look could cleave mountains.
I stepped back hastily. “Go look in the mirror.”
Gavin moved to the full length and admired my handiwork. “You’re good at this. Where’d you learn?”
I shrugged. “My dad.”
Then, I snagged my dress and went into the bathroom to change. The dress was a marvel. I’d found it at a boutique on Fifth Avenue. Katherine would be upset that I hadn’t taken her along for the ride, but I’d been on a deadline. And frankly couldn’t explain what I was doing to my friends yet. Even though they’d been messaging me all week and asking questions. English had even tried to call me, but I’d been too busy to answer.
The miracle of the dress was that it was a light layer of ice blue that fell to my feet in my four-inch heels. It was nearly impossible to find long formalwear that didn’t have to be hemmed six inches at bare minimum. I had been looking foranythingthat didn’t require a hem, and this had been the best fit. It was almost Roman in style with a deep V at the front and a cinched waist. It was easy to move in, modest—well, for me—and, most importantly, the right length. Not to mention, it made my hazel eyes look almost blue in the right light.
I stepped out of the bathroom and said, “Well?”
When Gavin faced me, he froze. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, barely audible.
“Good?” I twirled for him, the skirts fluttering around my ankles.
“You look stunning.” He caught my hand and pulled me into him. “I’ll be honored to have you on my arm.”
My cheeks heated at the unexpected words. “Thank you.”
“I’m going to be the envy of every guy in the room.”
