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There I was…
Turning the pages, opening the next chapters of my life with a woman I never thought I’d see again. To have Belle in my life, not just once, but twice, wasn’t lost on me. If anything, it only made me appreciate this second chance that much more. I tried to keep my mind focused on the present. However, I couldn’t help but remember the last time we were at a celebration of this magnitude.
Belle’s debutante ball.
I wasn’t supposed to be there, though that didn’t stop me. I showed up for the girl who’d always meant something to me. From the first time I talked to her, Belle had the ability to take me out of myself. It was easy to let my guard down around her. Right from the start, she was different from all the other girls. Our families’ rivalry might have been my initial draw to her, but it quickly became something else entirely. Something I couldn’t walk away from until they’d left me no choice and sent me away.
Inhaling a deep, solid breath, I waited for my bride at the altar. Suddenly, the music began, and in walked our wedding party, followed by Belle Montgomery.
Soon-to-be Mrs. Hawkins.
My wife.
I watched in avid fascination at how gorgeous she truly was. How she stood out from everyone in the church, like she always did in our town. She was stunning, stealing all the air from my lungs without even trying. Her long blonde hair was pinned to the left side with loose curls framing her beautiful face. The neckline of her white lace wedding gown was low in the front, flawlessly framing her luscious body. The dress accentuated the curves of her petite yet curvy frame with a train at least twenty feet behind her.
She looked classy.
Proper.
Angelic.
Mine.
I was captivated by not only her beauty, but by the way she was stubbornly glaring at me as she walked down the aisle. Fully aware I was enjoying every second of her having to come to me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. There was no denying the magnetic pull I felt with her mere presence.
It was a tightrope, my immediate possessiveness over her. Even after all this time, the desire to own from her mind to her heart, to every goddamn hole in her heavenly body was still there, alive and present, breathing new life into me. Each deliberate step she took brought her closer to our future.
To me.
For the last fifteen years, I’d lived and breathed Hawkins Industries. It was my entire life, and nothing came between that. I hadn’t seen her since the night I’d snuck in through her bedroom window, like I was still sixteen, to slide the ring on her finger. Now it was shining bright like a fucking beacon, fitting her perfectly like I knew it would. Despite not seeing her until now, it didn’t stop me from thinking about her. I craved the feel of her silky skin and longed for her addicting scent while counting down the days until I could claim her once again.
She felt it too.
It was why the seething glare on her face pointed openly in my direction. She wore it proudly. It was her defiance of what was to come…
Our marriage.
It was her shield.
Her guard.
A fucking wall she’d built the size of Texas.
Once she was standing in front of me, her father lifted her veil, and I sucked in a visible breath at her beauty. He kissed her cheek, then firmly placed her hands in my sturdy hold, handing her over to me. The significance meant more to me than she could ever know. I couldn’t help but find her reaction entertaining. It was evident she fucking hated me, and I couldn’t have cared less if I tried. Despite my lack of not giving a shit that she didn’t want to marry me, I wanted to show her I wasn’t her rival anymore.
In my last attempt at creating some sort of bridge between us, I spoke the truth, “You look gorgeous, kitten.”
She slightly blushed, evoking one of my favorite emotions out of her before she murmured, “You look nice too.”
I grabbed her hand, bringing it up to my lips to kiss it. The pulse on her wrist was beating fast against my fingers.
Unable to resist, I called her out on it. “Good to know I still make your heart race.”
She tried yanking her hand out of my grasp, but I held onto it tighter, wanting to prove my point that I still had an effect on her. I didn’t let go of her hand throughout the entire ceremony, rubbing my thumb over her soft skin. For the next hour, we had our traditional Southern wedding. My stubborn bride kept her concentrated stare on the minister. Her body was tense, and never once did she glance my way.
“Tristian,” the pastor announced, letting me know it was time for our vows. “Please repeat after me.”
I didn’t need to. I knew what I wanted and couldn’t live without anymore. Before he began, I turned to look deep into her eyes. With the back of my fingers, I caressed the side of her face, and she lightly gasped from my touch.
