Page 50 of Crocodile Tears
“Stop evading the point I’m trying to make,” Deacon taunted. “If a dress really makes you that uncomfortable, I can make a call and we can pull some other options.”
“A dress is fine,” I conceded. “I suppose I can rally for one night.”
He smiled at me ruefully. “Being my date is a great hardship, I know. I appreciate your sacrifice.”
“I just want this night to be perfect and for the trust to raise a bunch of money and for us to save a ton of wildlife and for me to not embarrass myself or you or my family or the Prickle Island Zoo legacy or?—”
“Whoa.” Deacon took my hand in his, threading his fingers through my own. “I know you’re not a big fan of the spotlight, but it’s going to be great,” he assured me, squeezing my hand. “More importantly, it’s going to be fun, okay?”
“Okay,” I gave in, letting out a nervous breath as the car pulled into an underground parking garage flanked by security guards.
“Just pretend it’s only you and me.”
I offered Deacon a weak smile, not telling him that imagining that would only make my nerves a million times worse.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Deacon
I waited for Dove in the foyer of the cordoned off suites. The bustle of photographers and event staff echoed up the stairs from the venue below. I unbuttoned and re-buttoned my jacket three times, a surprising bout of nerves tying my stomach in knots as Zeke talked a mile a minute in my ear. He had managed to “find time in his schedule” to fly out for the fundraiser, and I was sure it had nothing to do with the bevy of actors, artists, and models who were in attendance—some of whom were looking for new representation.
“So that script should be coming in the next week,” he drawled, and I had no idea what he was talking about because I was so focused on the closed door that I knew Dove was behind.
I hoped she was okay. I knew this whole thing was really intense for her, but I wasn’t sure if demanding to stand next toher while she got her hair and makeup done would seem like I was being the overprotective boyfriend.
As if she would ever allow that.
Maybe I shouldn’t have made her come to this event. Maybe I was pushing too hard. I’d gotten so hung up on the idea of her on my arm, showing her my world, having her fall in love with all of it and see me, maybe, in a new light. But I should’ve known better than to think Dove could be wooed by all the glitz and glamor.
I was an expert at delusional fantasies, but this one was going to only hurt me in the end. Even after what Dove’s siblings had said, I really needed to lower my expectations. Dove was headstrong, confident, and she knew what she wanted out of life, and it had nothing to do with glitz and glamor . . . and I highly doubted that it had anything to do with me either.
“Earth to Deacon.” Zeke waved in front of my face, and I finally broke my staring contest with the closed door.
“I think I might want to take a little time off after the next project,” I admitted with a sigh, crossing my legs at the ankles and leaning against the wall.
Zeke looked at me like I’d just told him I wanted to move to Mars. “Time off?”
“Yeah, or maybe focus on some projects for my?—”
“Please don’t say art. You’re not going down the tortured indie artist path on me, are you?” Zeke ran an anxious hand through his hair. “I swear to God, if you start going method and wearing turtlenecks and talking about your fuckingcraft.”
“I’m not. I just want?—”
“If you say an Oscar, I’m going to lose my mind.” Zeke groaned. “You know how political that shit is? I’d have better luck making you the King of England. Let’s just keep our heads down and focus on Batman right now. Stick to the plan, right?”
“Right,” I muttered, knowing it wasn’t worth the battle. The path had been laid out for me. All I had to do was walk it. It shouldn’t be that hard.
The door opened and I stood straight, waiting with bated breath as Dove walked out. Even as I braced with anticipation, I wasn’t ready for what I saw. The sight of her hit me like a freight train.
Dove strode out wearing an emerald-green corset gown, a slit running up the side all the way to the top of her thigh. All the air stole from my lungs as I trailed my eyes up her satin-clad body to her face. Her hair was pulled back, teardrop crystals hanging from her ears and a matching necklace glittering across her chest. Her lips were a deep red, and her eyes ended in dramatic wings. At first glance, she looked like the epitome of Hollywood vixen, but there was so much more depth to her beauty because it wasn’t just a façade layered upon her. It radiated out of her. The lighthouse in my storm.
“Damn,” Zeke said, adjusting his collar as his eyes scanned Dove up and down.
For a split second, I questioned whether it was an overreaction to punch him just for appreciating how beautiful Dove looked. “Damn indeed.”
Dove searched the corridor until her gaze hooked with my own and a soft, little smile curved her lips. To be the guy she smiled at felt like more of a victory than every award on my shelf. I pushed off the wall and straightened my suit as she sized me up with similar appreciation. Whatever she was feeling in that moment, I hoped it was even half of what I was feeling toward her.
She was absolutely stunning. Always. Unequivocally. Irrevocably. Stunning. In khakis or sweatpants or designer gowns. And I knew then for certain the thing that I’d been terrified of happening when I returned to Prickle Island afterfifteen years had come true: I was in love with her. I’d neverstoppedbeing in love with her; the feeling had just grown and matured right along with me. But I’d known from the moment she’d stormed into her mother’s office, she had my whole heart whether she wanted it or not.
