Page 59 of To Have and to Scold

“She must be talented.”

I nod. “She is. Look. Chloe ending our engagement was the best thing to happen to me. I realized I don’t want a relationship like that. I want something real and down to earth. Something reciprocated.”

“I can’t imagine her not reciprocating. I mean—” she shrugs and looks at me through lowered lashes. “You’re a great guy.”

“Well, same with that jerk, Holden. How could he not see he was letting go of someone special?”

“My cousin does have the exotic going for her, though. I’m not exotic in the least.” As if to prove her point, she takes the cherry off the whipped cream on her waffle and pops it in her mouth. She chews and swallows. “Effective, organized, professional, yes. But not exotic.”

“You’re a lot more than those things.”

“Yeah? Like what?” She licks her lips but misses a bit of cream in the corner of her mouth.

I grab my napkin and dab her lip. She withdraws, like she’s embarrassed, but I gently shush her. “It’s okay. Just a tiny bit of cream.”

When I’ve dabbed it off, I open my mouth to speak. “Do you want to know what I’ve noticed about you? I love how you scribble endless little notes to yourself on your enormous wall calendar, and how you diffuse essential oils in your office like you’re a dealer trying to sell the stuff to the world. I love how you light up when anything involving weddings is mentioned. I love how sweet you are with my dog and Leo."

She laughs and I keep going, as long as I dare, with every little thing that comes to mind. “I like your smile and the way you wear high heels like you’re allergic to comfort, your quick wit, and the way you make the brides you talk with feel like a million bucks."

There’s so much more I could say about her, but it would be unprofessional to tell herallthe things.

And as I’m speaking, the look on her face warms me like nothing ever has before.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dallas

“Also, you really know how to scream in a diner. Those lungs are healthy!” Beck exclaims.

“Hey!” I narrow my eyes at him. Our plates were emptied and cleared away a while ago. And now this conversation isn’t going how it’s supposed to go. He’s supposed to be telling me things that are better than being exotic like my cousin McKenna, not embarrassing things. And now all the food I just shoveled in my mouth is only adding to the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach.

“I’m kidding,” he says. “But in all seriousness, you are those things, the most hardworking person I know, all of it. But also, a very kind person. The way you talk to Mary? I can tell you honestly care, even though you don’t know her very well.”

I shrug. “I do care. She’s a rockstar.”

“And,” he continues, “another good trait of yours is you’re a good listener. Not only with clients, but… with me.”

I smile, unsure of what to say. Do you say thank you at a time like this? As I’m opening my mouth to do so, he keeps going.

“You’re courageous, strong, and immensely talented.” His eyes glow softly. “And very, very beautiful.” He lifts my hand and presses a light kiss on top. If I’m not mistaken, he deliberately kisses a freckle on one of my knuckles. Slowly, softly, but with an undercurrent of want. Why does that feel like the most romantic thing that anyone has ever done to me?

“I—” Words have escaped me, maybe for the first time in my life.

“And most of all?” he asks.

I finally find my words to reply, “There’s more?” I squeak.

“You’re you. You’re just…you. And that’s what I love the most.”

He’s tracing circles on the back of my hand now, and for a moment, I’m mesmerized by watching the action. Around and around his finger goes, and I’m so invested in it that I don’t see the owner standing at our table until he clears his throat.

Laird’s gaze goes from Beck to me and then back to Beck. “Uh, I hate to bother you, but we closed a while ago and I really need to get home to my wife, so—”

“Laird! I’m so sorry,” Beck says. “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s fine,” A knowing smile crosses Laird’s face. “It wasn’t a problem. But I do need to lock up now.”

Beck stands from the table and pushes my chair out for me as I stand. “I’ll just pay the bill and then we’ll be out of your hair.” He picks up the receipt from the table—when did Laird bring that?—and scans the code at the bottom. “There you go,” he says to Laird, showing the transaction on his phone. “Thanks for the great food.”

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