Page 133 of Flare

“So, youareworried then.” Beck eyeballed the detective.

Preston sighed. “We’re being careful because of the folder more than anything. It makes sense, right?”

Beck and I looked at each other and nodded.

“Okay,” I said, feeling some of the fear slip away. I was damned if I was going to let Shayne ruin my first proper show. Fuck him.

Preston finally smiled. “Then I’ll let you finish your celebrations. I heard it was a great show. Congratulations. And ask any of my men if you need assistance. They’ll be here as long as it takes.” And with that he left.

Beck took my face in his hands and looked me in the eye. “Shayne is not going to take this away from you, understand? I won’t let him. Now, I want you to go schmooze. Your public awaits. I am going to stay right here and keep an eye on you, so you can relax. I’ll have my eyes on you the whole time.”

I sucked in a shaky breath, suddenly aware of the curious glances we were getting.

Beck put his lips next to my ear making me shiver. “You looked fucking stunning walking that runway tonight. And FYI, we are so role playing that another time.”

I snorted, thankful for his attempt to lighten the mood. “It’s a deal. Butsuccessis yet to be decided. The reviews aren’t out.”

He scowled. “Wereyouhappy? Was it everythingyouwanted it to be?”

And I couldn’t stop the grin, like a damn Cheshire cat. “It was. It was everything.”

“Then it was a success.” He kissed me soundly. “Now go. I’ll be here when you’re done. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you setting those fucking cameras on me back there. It’ll cost you.”

“I can’t wait.” I batted my lashes, grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. But then I took a deep breath and held out my shaking hands. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Beck took them in his. “Yes, you can. I’ll be here watching the whole time.” He kissed me long and slow to the accompaniment of a few wolf whistles from the surrounding models, and then he stood to the side while I pinched some colour into my cheeks and tried to not lose my stomach before returning to the milling throng of well-wishers. The heat of his gaze on my back the only thing between me and impending panic.

I can do this.

* * *

An hour later, the mayhem had calmed, and the event centre was emptying its crowd to various post-show parties, none of which I was attending much to Beck’s consternation. But I was done, unable to ignore the warning signals from my body any longer and knowing more people and mindless conversation were not the answer. I didn’t care what people thought, I needed to be curled against Beck, in his bed, in the quiet of his house, away from the threat of Shayne, and the sooner the better.

Kip packed all our gear and then headed off to some swanky party with a model he’d been eyeing all night. And while Beck and Jack stood in the coat-check queue, I leaned against the wall and soaked in the reassurance of the cop keeping an eye on us from the main door. The night had been more than I’d ever hoped for, and it was hard to contain my total freak-out about how just well everything had gone, including the rumours that I was going to pick up the Best Debut Designer Award.

Several committee members had congratulated me, which helped allay some of my fears about a backlash. Kip, in usual fashion, with his ear to the ground, had told me thatno onehad been happy about Gloria’s interview, everyone preferring the whole thing had died a quiet death. Which got me thinking again about whether she’d been involved in the fire, as well.

Beck and Jack appeared at my side with their thick coats bundled against the weather. Jack was still bubbling from the hype of the show, and it brought a smile to my lips. I linked my arm through his as he chatted away, and started toward the main door.

Beck pulled me to a stop. “Nuh uh. Put this on.” He pulled my coat from where I’d slung it over my bone-weary shoulders because I was too damn tired to get my arms through the sleeves. Then he held it out for me to slide into. “You’ll freeze.”

I leaned in to kiss his beautiful lips, or more truthfully, fell against them with the help of gravity and he dipped in time to catch them on his.

“Oh. My. God. My feet are killing me.” I steadied myself on his arm and eased my stilettos off, one at a time, handing the strappy things over because…too tired to carry that shit. Beck barely gave them a second look before dangling them from his finger while I rubbed my feet to get the circulation going.

“I really hope Alec picks up the model award tomorrow.” I swallowed a smile as Beck buttoned me into my coat and Jack rolled his eyes. Sometimes Beck was really just too fucking cute. “He truly deserves it.” I kissed the top of Beck’s head as he reached for the lowest buttonhole.

“Yeah, well that’s because you gave him a chance.” He took my hand in his free one and tugged me toward the front door. “Your feet are going to be blocks of ice by the time we get home.”.

“I don’t care. Those shoes are fucking torture.”

His lips quirked. “Then why wear them?”

“Fashion, darling,” I drawled, limping alongside his long strides. “And anyway, I have you to warm them up.”

“Oh. My. God. Please, you two,” Jack grumbled as Beck held the door open for us to walk through.

I glanced up at Beck as he looped my arm back through his. “Thank you.”

---