Page 66 of Right With You
“Alright. Anything I should know?” Who knew what he had planned.
“I’d like for you to meet with Odette once more. Her family arrived for the gala, but I don’t believe you were introduced.” He turned his head away from a stack of thrillers sitting on a built-in shelf and waited for my reaction.
My gut response was to say it wasn’t happening. I had no need to meet Odette’s family because I wasn’t getting engaged to her. She had no interest and it made no sense to plow ahead as though either of us wanted this.
At the same time, he was bound and determined to see this through. Maybe I needed to jump through a few more of his hoops so he could see I wasn’t simply being stubborn. Of course, Iwasbeing stubborn, but for a justified reason. Add to this the reality that I had no plans to return to France or move to New York, I wasn’t certain how anyone thought this would work.
Maybe seeing me in this town would help. Meeting some friends and seeing me with Elise a bit more… maybe all of it would help him understand how far from his version of life the one I was living was.
“I’d be happy to meet them. As long as there’s no confusion about who I’m engaged to.”
He craned his neck away as though barely interested. “There is no confusion about your current engagement, trust me. They simply need to see for themselves there’s nothing more I could’ve done. It should help the girl’s case.”
This piqued my concern. “The girl? Odette?”
“Yes. Her parents aren’t convinced she did her part. So perhaps you can convince them she couldn’t have done anything to persuade you to walk away from your… Elise.” He strolled to the front door, unhurried and completely at ease with the fact that he’d pointedly put down my fiancée without actually voicing an insult.
“Alright, Grand-père. Just let me know when.”
Before I shut the door behind him, he turned.
“I don’t want to lose you to her.” He held my gaze another second before leaving.
My cheeks burning with frustration and no small amount of shame, a part of me that I hated to examine collapsed in on itself. Why did these interactions make me feel like such a child? Perhaps because I was still lying to him when I should’ve been honest from the start, and worse, now I had actual feelings for Elise that’d confused every aspect of this.
Was it the simple act of engagement to someone he hadn’t chosen that made him want to make sure I wasn’t lost? Or was it—I swallowed against the thought.
No. No. I might love Elise, but we weren’t like my parents. Were we? He didn’t see that in me, didn’t see my father’s volatility or a future where, when I lost her, I’d disintegrate.
I didn’t feel that much already. Maybe some of this had turned real—the feelings had come, unbidden—but that didn’t mean I would drown in them. We Devereaux men loved with all we had, but I was also made of sterner stuff. I’d done fourteen years in the military, for starters.
I breathed deep, shoving away all those concerns and centering myself. Then I checked on Elise before I went out for a run, and the tenderness that filled my chest while I watched her sleep for those fleeting seconds was like a serving of wine in a too small cup. It ran over the edges and spilled out underneath me, unwieldy and messy and unfamiliar.
So visceral and powerful, like liquid emotion pumped through my veins, it terrified me.
I pushed myself on the run. Then I pushed harder. At some point, I saw the workout for what it was—my effort to figuratively outrun the mess with my family and the messy feelings I’d developed for Elise. But there was no evading them.
Elise had sent a text while I was out saying she would be checking on a few things at the bakery and then dropping by her house for a while. She had plants to water and mail to pick up. I would’ve liked to see her, but maybe this was better—some space for both of us.
When Bear greeted me at Stone’s door, I sank down to pet him and give him his due.
“Bonjour, Monseigneur Bear. Comment allez-vous?” I pet his head, and he leaned in, all those protective instincts utterly disarmed thanks to the contact.
“Stop whispering sweet nothings to His Highness and get in here. We need to talk about your love life.”
Kenny’s voice came from the living room and punched me right where it already hurt.
Love life. I could pretend and say I didn’t have one or I didn’t even want one, but in my heart of hearts, I always had. I’d wanted what my parents had. I’d wanted to be so in love with someone I never wanted to be parted from them.
What I’d never been able to stomach was the thought of such loss and grief that I ended up losing myself like my father had.
“Sit. Drink tea. Have a snack. Then talk.”
Stone’s face brooked no arguments behind his bushy beard. It’d gotten wilder lately, and I wondered if we should gently suggest a trim. Last time he’d looked this untamed, he’d been in a far different place. He hadn’t been taking care of himself. The signs had been everywhere—no housekeeping efforts, hardly any clean clothes, no regular showers, and absolutely no self-care.
My stomach clenched at the memory, but as I looked at his tidy living room and the small plates of delicate, inevitably delicious creations, it eased. He was not in that place. He’d set his single-minded focus on baking and didn’t seem to care about his appearance at all.
I sat without a word and did as told, taking the tea cup Kenny gave me and eyeing the snack selection. Beast grumbled at me like he was seconding both Kenny’s demand and Stone’s order.
