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Fuck no is right there, but I swallow the two words down.
“If you want.”
She blinks rapidly and heaves a breath. “Is there anything keeping me here, Leland?”
Me. I want to say, me. But I remember how Billy locked her down and kept her in a cage of sorts. I’m not doing that. And what am I fucking going to say? Marry me?
“I think,” I say slowly, “you can do anything you want.”
“So, there isn’t.” She turns. “I need to be up early. You should go.”
I stare at her, but no words come.
And for the first time in my life, I really don’t know what to do.
So, I go.
Sarah keeps her distance before, during, and after the wedding.
Oh, she answers me, is polite when I speak to her, and as I stand with Mack and Lawson, she and Rose are beautiful in their color-coordinated gowns.
When Dakota walks down the aisle, people whisper and sigh. I’m shocked Lawson keeps himself in check and doesn’t rush down the aisle to claim the woman he’s making his wife.
The bride looks beautiful, but I can’t keep my eyes off Sarah and the way she looks stunning with her hair styled back from her face and the dress that hugs her figure.
After we head to the resort for the reception, Sarah makes sure she’s sitting on the other side of me, with Rose between us as Mack drives.
“Sarah,” I say as soon as we get out of the car, but she hurries in with Rose ignoring me.
So, I follow, make small talk, and follow her around the room with my gaze. The booze flows and the food is great, their tattooed chef having outdone himself. And even though I’m suspicious of intent with Sarah, I have to admit I like him, and he can cook.
Then again, I don’t trust anyone when it comes to her.
Lawson’s parents are glowing, and it’s a real humdinger of a party.
My dad comes up as I nurse a drink, and he slaps me hard on the back. “So . . . I hear there’s a young lady you got your eye on?”
Of course, he knows. And with her having some bug up her ass right now, I really wish he didn’t know.
But he does.
“Dad.”
He follows where I’m looking. Sarah’s dancing with Dwight, her dress the color of leaves changing, warm like burned ochre shimmers and she entices with the slender thigh shown from the slit in the side.
My throat constricts as she laughs.
He whistles low. “She might be too good for you, son.”
“Like you can talk. Mom’s way too good for you.”
He slaps me on the back again. “Surly works for teenagers, but not for grown men. You’ve got it bad, huh? I’m going to check this girl out.”
“Don’t—”
Leland,” he says, “your mom’s going to meet her, so we might as well do it now.”
The song ends, and my dad points to Sarah. My mom nods and beelines for her, and I shoot Dad a look. “You’re going to scare her. It’s new.”
