Page 79 of To Have and to Scold

Is this why I do what I do? For this front-row seat to unabashed love?

Maybe so.

Beck flashes through my mind, which is why, as I turn to close the doors, and I see him, I wonder, briefly, if I merely conjured up an image of him using my really stellar imagination.

No. It’s him.

He’s standing down the hall, just inside the kitchen of the mansion, wearing a light gray suit, a coral-toned tie that fits the aesthetic of the wedding perfectly, and a slow smile that’s spreading across his face as he takes me in.

Oh, yeah. I’m in my best dress. And even though the little toolbelt around my waist is probably affecting the vibe, he doesn’t seem to care.

Because the way Ryan was looking at Lila? It was nothing compared to how Beck is looking at me.

Chapter Thirty-One

Beck

They say that when you know, you know…that when you meet the person you want to be with, all doubts flee.

When you know, you know.

I don’t have any clue who “they” are. Is this a collective “they”? The royal “they”? Regardless, “they” are definitely right.

Because when I see Dallas, looking beautiful in her form-fitting, shimmery silvery dress and her tool belt, I know.

I know.

She glances behind her before she rushes over, her mouth dropped open in surprise. She reaches out for my hand. “Beck Billingsley, you are a sight for sore eyes.” If I’m not mistaken, her eyes are teary.

I don’t have time to ask if she’s okay because she goes on tiptoes and plants a swift kiss on my cheek. “The ceremony’s starting in a moment,” she whispers. “But thanks for being here. There are a couple of open seats in the back.” She squeezes my hand and begins to jog in her flats while I follow behind her.

“Oh, I don’t want to crash the wedding. I wasn’t invited—”

“It’s fine,” she throws over her shoulder. “Really. You renovated the building for heaven’s sake.”

“But you put this all together for them, Dallas. And I’m so proud of you for pulling it off.” Since we’re already outside heading to the rows of chairs in the sand, I’m resigned to my fate. I guess I’m going to a wedding and not lurking behind the shadows like I’d planned. “Can I help you? Do you need me to get you anything?” I ask her.

“Probably later, I’ll need you to bring me something to wolf down in a closet or something. I tend to not eat very well on wedding days.”

My mind immediately goes to other things I’d love to do with her in any and all closets in the mansion, but now’s not the time. “I’ve got you. I’ll bring you anything you want. Do I get to sit by you? Or are you needed elsewhere?” We’ve nearly reached the back row of chairs.

“You know the hut you assembled a few weeks ago? Mission control is in there.” She points to her headset and gives me a grin.

“You love this, don’t you?” Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she hadn’t been ready to cry.

But when she blanches, I know something’s up. “Yes and no,” she whispers. Lila and Ryan have joined hands, and the officiator looks up at the audience and pauses, probably waiting for Dallas and me to take our seats. Oops.

One last squeeze of my hand, and a look from her blue eyes as she pushes back a lock of auburn waves, and she’s hurrying to the hut, lifting a hand to offer an apology at the wedding party up front.

The couple and officiant only smile. I doubt anything could ruin their big moment.

The ceremony isn’t sappy at all. It’s just down to earth. Simple. Nice. A dull ache starts in my gut. Call me old-fashioned. Call me a romantic—I don’t care—but I want this. And maybe it’s too early and maybe I’m a fool for thinking this way already, but I want this with Dallas.

*****

The ceremony is short and sweet. Dallas is out of the “command center” and off like a shot, simultaneously being gracious, funny, and kind to everyone she comes in contact with while overseeing everything that’s going on with precision. I’m nothing short of dumbstruck.

I rush to catch up with her, settling into a matching stride as she heads into the back of the mansion.

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