Page 101 of Forsaken Oath

I want to high five my sister for her impeccable manners. I told her earlier to make sure she thanks Beau’s parents, but I shouldn’t have even worried.

“Of course! The more the merrier. I hope you like lasagna.” Hazel says.

“Do you need help with anything?” I offer, glancing around the kitchen.

The island is busy: water glasses lined up on the island, a stack of fabric napkins, two different sizes of plates. A massive lasagna sits cooling on the stove, the cheese bubbling around the edges. Garlic bread steams in a basket next to the stove, its buttery, herby scent mixing with the tang of marinara. There’s a lively, welcoming energy here that I’ve never experienced before. Not like this. The closest thing I’ve had was make-your-own-pizza nights with my sisters, and even that feels pale in comparison.

“Oh, no. We’ve got it, thank you though. Beau, why don’t you show Eloise and Vivie to the table? We’re ready to eat.”

“Sure thing, Ma.” Beau steers me out of the kitchen. “C’mon, Peach. Let me show you the dining room. I’ll even slow down by that photo of me you were eyeballing earlier.” He smirks, huffing a laugh.

I roll my eyes. “I wasn’t even looking at you. I was checking out the dirt bike.” It’s a lie. I was looking at college-age bare-chested Beau, back before he had all his tattoos.

Beau throws his head back in a hearty laugh, the rich sound echoing off the walls and filling the hallway with warmth. “Sure you were, Peach. I believe you.” His tone drips with amused sarcasm.

I can't help but giggle along with him, his infectious joy impossible to resist. There's something about being here, in his childhood home surrounded by snapshots of his life, that makes me feel closer to him. Like I'm being let in on a secret, piece by piece.

We make our way down the hall, Beau’s hand never leaving the small of my back.

43

BEAU

Eloise’s beautystrikes me anew in the warm candlelight. The way it illuminates her high cheekbones, the elegant line of her neck, the gentle slope of her nose, those captivating golden eyes that seem to see right through me.

It bathes her in an ethereal glow, which couldn’t be more perfect for her. She seems otherworldly to me in a way that feels profound and powerful.

Ma insisted we set the table with white pillar candles inside hurricane candle holders tonight. It’s definitely to impress the Hawthorne girls, and judging by the bright smile on Viv’s face, it’s totally working.

Ma’s lasagna tastes especially delicious tonight, or fuck, maybe I’m just high on the woman next to me. I can’t tear my gaze from her, though I’m not trying that hard either.

I've never brought a woman home to meet my family before. Never wanted to. Until her.

Under the table, I reach for her hand, lacing our fingers together. She glances over at me, a soft smile playing at her lips. I give her hand a gentle squeeze, hoping she can feel everything I’m not saying out loud. That I’m so fucking glad she’s here withme, that having her by my side feels right in a way I can’t fully explain.

She squeezes my hand back, her smile growing. She leans in close, her voice a whisper meant only for me. “Your family is so nice.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” I murmur back, brushing my thumb over her knuckles. “Both of you.”

Her cheeks flush, and she tilts her head so her hair falls over the side of her face. Vivie drags her into a conversation with Ma about some store downtown.

I’m trying to pay attention, but my mind circles back to last weekend. The interaction with Eloise’s mom doesn’t sit right with me. I don’t care who it is, no one talks to her like that. Not on my fuckin’ watch. It took me out at the knees hearing her ma say those things to her. Lies, gaslighting, and manipulation. It doesn’t matter that it was obviously bullshit.

My girl doesn’t deserve that. No one does.

My call into the family law attorney in Rosewood was promising, but it’s taking too long. And once the inquiry starts, all parties will be notified. I need to make sure all the ducks are in a row before that.

A plan starts to formulate, one that requires a favor from my brother. He’s gonna ask me a hundred questions, but I’ll weather them for her.

Across the table, Cora watches our exchange with a curious tilt of her head. She takes a sip of water, her gaze flicking between Eloise and me.

Graham, sitting on my other side, mutters something under his breath, and I turn just in time to catch the tail end of his smirk.

“What’s that, bro?” I ask, keeping my tone light.

“Nothing.” He spears a piece of garlic bread, his expression unreadable. “Just enjoying . . . whatever this is.”

“Knock it off,” I mutter, but the words lack any real bite.

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