Page 36 of Yours To Keep
“You’re not wrong,” Ember mumbles, turning in front of the mirror to admire her curves in the dark emerald sundress she’s trying on.
“Oh, that’s her goal. Isn’t it Ember Harding?” Kelsea teases, spinning in a hot pink mini dress covered in sequins. Ember’s cheeks tinge pink.
“You guys want more already? The twins are barely two,” Rory asks, holding a black velvet wrap dress against her body.
“I think one more would be the magic number for us. I’m not sure I could handle more than three,” Ember says.
“No thanks, one is more than enough for me.” Rory replies, stepping into the fitting room and closing the curtain.
“Not me, I want at least five,” I say before I even realize I’m speaking out loud. The room falls silent, the girls all staring at me wide eyed and curious. Rory pulls the curtain back, a wide grin splitting her lips as she leans against the doorway with one hand on her hip.
“Oh yeah? Little blonde haired, green-eyed Irish babies running around reeking as much havoc as their daddy does, huh?” She asks, and I feel the heat of embarrassment creep up my neck. My face is ten different shades of red, matching the satin dress in my hands.
“I just…uh…I mean…um…I didn’t…” I stammer, not knowing how to extract my foot from my mouth at this point.
“Rory, shut up. They’re just figuring things out,” Ember says, squeezing my shoulder gently.
“I could see Iris with a big family. He’s amazing with Evelyn. I’ve seen him with the twins and Jasper all at once. Kids love him. Probably because he is one,” Kelsea says and we all laugh.
“I don’t know…I know what I want, and I know what I see in my future. But sometimes I struggle with figuring out if he’s for real or not,” I tell them, wringing my hands.
“Well, I can tell you this much. I’ve never met a man more straightforward and honest than Iris. He says it like it is, no matter what the consequences may be. And that man is completely in love with you, Magnolia.” Rory says, and I feel the blush heating my cheeks again.
Love? He loves me? This man is willing to lay down his life to protect me. He has given me the freedom and confidence to feel more like myself than I ever have before.
“You love him. And that’s the dress you should wear when you tell him,” Ember says, pointing to the red satin wrap dress I’ve been eyeing for the past few hours.
“Definitely. Red is your color and that dress will hug all your curves like it was made for you,” Kelsea says.
I hold the dress against my body, imagining what it would look like, what Dalton would think of it. The deep red against my pale skin and auburn hair will definitely make a statement. And my mother will hate it. Without another thought, I take it to the counter and pay for it, a devilish smirk plastered across my face. This will be the last time I ever lay eyes on my mother, that I’ve already decided. Regardless of how this event turns out, I cannot make excuses for her anymore. Any mother who would do something so sinister to their own child is no mother of mine.
It’s a madhouse of makeup and hairspray in the master bathroom at Breaker and Rory’s house. All the girls chose to get ready together, hoping to dazzle the men waiting downstairs for us. I apply a thick layer of mascara, but leave the rest of my facebare. Dalton loves the way my freckles accent my cheekbones, and who am I to deny him the natural beauty I’ve come to love.
War paint, that’s what this is and we all know it. Tonight, tension is thick in the air around us all, even as we laugh and joke about what the evening will hold. I watch, mesmerized, as Rory slips a thin knife into a holster wrapped around her thigh. She and Breaker were made for one another, truly.
“Are we ready, ladies?” Ember asks, shaking the big curls out of her brown hair. She’s an understated beauty in stark contrast to Kelsea’s old Hollywood and Rory’s deadly yet dainty ways.
“Let’s do this.” I say, mustering up as much confidence as I possibly can as I slide the audio recorder and my lipstick into the bejeweled clutch I’m carrying tonight. My mother will admit to everything tonight, one way or another.
As we head down the stairs, the girls each float into the arms of their husbands. Eli gives Ember a warm, wide smile, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and kissing her forehead softly. Kelsea spins slowly in front of Everett and he bites his lip, admiring his wife with adoration in his eyes. A low, deep grumble sounds from Breaker as he crosses the distance between him and Rory in two long strides before sliding his hand into her hair and devouring her mouth like there’s no one else in the room.
Dalton stands at the bottom of the stairs, his hand gripping his chest over his heart dramatically, his eyes never leaving mine.
“M’aingeal. God, you are a beauty, Magnolia Monroe,” he says, taking my hand and kissing it softly. He may be rough around the edges, but Dalton Murphy is a gentleman.
“Thank you,” I say, lowering my lashes and nibbling the inside of my lip nervously.
His thumb catches my bottom lip, pulling it free. I gasp at the connection, never prepared for how forward Dalton is.
“Hold your head up, angel. You rule the heavens and earth tonight,” he says, and I shiver at his words.
He’s right. I am powerful and tonight I won’t cower. I won’t allow my mother or anyone else to take away a single second of my happiness any longer. This life is mine. Mine and Dalton’s. And I don’t want to spend another minute of it feeling like I have to apologize for taking up space. My eyes meet his and narrow slightly in determination. Tonight, the world is mine. And Dalton is going to give it to me.
nineteen
I can hardly takemy eyes off of Magnolia during the entire drive to the beach house. She’s a devastating beauty on a normal day. But tonight, in that dress with her hair blowing in the wind and her lips painted a delicious blood red, I can’t stop staring. I want to worship at her feet. I want to take her across my knee for letting anyone but me see her look so fucking sexy it hurts. I want to show her off to anyone who will look. The warring emotions inside my chest curl around my heart and squeeze.
“You are magnificent, angel,” I tell her, catching her eyes as I slide one hand across her knee and hold the steering wheel with the other. As much as I prefer the feeling of freedom I get from being on the bike, I kinda like driving Magnolia’s car. It’s just as fast and I can sneak peeks at my woman every few minutes without worrying about crashing.
