Page 97 of American Royals II: Majesty
“Teddy—”
They both broke off with a flustered laugh. “You first,” Sam insisted, and he cleared his throat.
“Sam, Bee and I…I mean…”
When had he started using that nickname? Hearing it tugged at something in Sam’s chest.
“I know,” she said, her eyes burning. “You really love her, don’t you.”
To his credit, Teddy held her gaze. “I don’t know how to begin apologizing to you. I mean, there’s nothing inMcCall’s Etiquetteabout how to handle something like this.”
“I think we’re leagues past anything McCall could’ve anticipated,” Sam replied, but Teddy didn’t smile at her joke the way Marshall would have.
“Exactly,” he said earnestly. “I’m sorry I made such a mess of things. I never should have…”
At his anguished look, Sam took an instinctive step forward, placing a finger over his lips. “Whatever you were going to say, don’t. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.”
Shewas the antagonist in Beatrice and Teddy’s love story, and if she hadn’t been in the way, they might have discovered how they felt about each other so much sooner.
“It takes two people to make out in a closet. Don’t carry all the blame for this, okay?” She tried to smile at him. “I’m happy for you and Bee.Really.”
A breeze shot into the garden, rustling the leaves on the lemon tree, lifting the smells of soil and damp and citrus into the air.
Teddy’s eyes gleamed with gratitude and relief. “I’m happy for you, too. You and Davis seem really great together.”
“You—what?”
“Sam, you’re so complicated,” Teddy said gruffly. “You’re impulsive and brilliant and sophisticated and sarcastic. There is so muchtoyou, and I’ve never seen anyone who complemented all of that, who couldkeep upwith you, until Marshall. You two makesensetogether. More sense than you and I ever did.”
“I—thanks. That means a lot,” Sam said awkwardly. She looked into Teddy’s luminous blue eyes and added, “I’m really glad that Beatrice has you.”
“I’m glad she has you, too.”
They exchanged a complicit smile. In that moment, Sam knew that she and Teddy understood each other, because they shared one very important thing—they both loved Beatrice. Being the queen was a near-impossible job, but between the two of them, they might be able to support her through it.
“I realize this is painfully cliché, but do you think we could stay friends?” Teddy asked.
Friends.Sam didn’t have many of those, at least, not friends she could trust. Certainly not friends who knew her as well as Teddy did. “I would love that.”
She hesitated a moment, but given everything they’d been through, she figured she could hug Teddy. She started to pull him into an embrace. But before she could, he put his hands on her shoulders, and leaned forward to drop a single kiss on her brow.
There was nothing romantic in the gesture; it was decidedly old-fashioned, and sweet. As if Teddy was quietly acknowledging their messy history, and putting it behind him.
Sam felt all her grief and love and loss welling up in her. She blinked rapidly, trying not to cry. She had made so many mistakes, time and again—but at last everything was clicking into place, the way it was meant to all along.
“What thehell?”
Marshall stood in the doorway, looking at them in outraged horror.
Sam and Teddy sprang apart as if scalded. Which, she realized, probably made them look even guiltier.
“Marshall—let me explain,” she pleaded, taking a step toward him. He recoiled, and Sam fell back, wounded.
Teddy held out his hands in a placating gesture. “Look, it’s not what you think—”
“Sothisis who you’ve been using me to make jealous,” Marshall cut in, his eyes on Sam. “When you told me that your mystery guy was taken, I never thought you meant he wasmarrying your sister.”
Teddy was still talking in a low, urgent tone, explaining that this was all a misunderstanding, that he and Sam were just friends. But Sam’s eyes must have betrayed her, because Marshall retreated another step.
