Page 153 of Westin

“Come on in,” I call, reaching for my dressing gown.

Keira steps inside, a tray in her hand. She’s still in her lace robe wrapped around her stunning curves. Her red hair is piled on her head and tied with a headscarf.

“Good morning,” she says, smiling. “Happy wedding day.”

She sets the tray down. It’s wheat toast, black coffee, and two slices of orange.

“I thought you might have a little bit of an upset stomach,” she says. “You know, from the nerves.”

I get up, taking inventory of how I feel. “I am nervous,” I admit.

“Better eat something,” she says. “Even if it’s just fruit.”

Obediently, I eat the orange and take a sip of coffee. Keira goes to the closet and takes out my dress. She made the pattern for me, andwe worked on it with Maddie. It’s pure white satin with a corset bodice, balconette cups that give me beautiful cleavage, and a flared waist with a skirt that falls to my ankles.

“It’s so pretty,” Keira says, hanging it on the back of the door. Her eyes sparkle.

“I feel like you’re more excited for this than your wedding,” I say.

“I was nervous for mine,” she says. “I don’t do well with that kind of thing.”

“Enjoy yourself today,” I say. “You did a lot to help me get ready, and I never thanked you properly. I do really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” she says, her voice soft.

“I mean it. I never had a friend before you,” I say, feeling awkward.

She swallows, crystal blue eyes wet. “I know what that’s like.”

My lashes are damp too, and I swipe them with the back of my hand. Keira laughs, shaking her head back to keep the tears from falling.

“So, any wedding advice?” I say, sitting down on the bed.

She crosses her arms. “I haven’t been married long.”

I know Keira is shy when it comes to talking about sex—I am too—but just this once, I push her buttons.

“How about wedding night advice, then?” I say, smirking.

She blushes, rolling her eyes. “Oh, I think you know what to do.”

There’s a knock on the door. Keira frowns, leaning over and pulling the curtain back. I look over her shoulder, and everything seems normal. Sovereign’s truck is in the drive. Cattle low in the fields. The horses stand in their paddocks, flicking away flies.

Keira jumps up and peeks into the hall. I hear her husband’s voice rumble, and then she pulls the door ajar.

There’s a beautiful woman, maybe in her fifties, standing in the hall. Her hair is tucked in a soft bun behind her ear, and she’s in a fitted, dove gray dress. She gives off a soft, cozy aura that I gravitate towards.

Right away, I know who she is.

Keira steps aside, letting her into the room. Her eyes dart from the woman and back to me. “This is Mrs. Quinn,” she says. “Sovereign picked her up from town this morning.”

I can’t stop staring. She’s beautiful, so elegant. There isn’t a hint of roughness, chestnut hair, or hazel eyes about her. Westin must have gotten everything from his father, because he looks nothing like his mother.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“Hello, Diane,” she says, her smile as soft as her voice. “I’m Eve, Westin’s mother. He sent me over early to help you.”

It’s just like him to wait for our wedding day to introduce me to his mother. I’m not good with feelings, but suddenly, my chest is warm, like a dam burst. My lashes flutter, trying to keep back more tears. Keira appears beside me in a moment, her hand rubbing circles on my back.

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