Page 52 of Don't Make Me Beg
“Wasn’t she just engaged to someone else, too?”
A collective gasp ripples through the room.
“Do you think infidelity was involved?” someone whispers.
I lift my hands, trying to rein it back in. “Can we please stay on tra?—”
“We shouldn’t assume,” another voice cuts in. “But have you seen Scout lately? A woman doesn’t glow like that for no reason.”
“I agree! I just saw them in a heated argument. Thought they were going to tear each other’s clothes off right there in the middle of the sidewalk!”
That one nearly makes me choke. My eyes snap to Scout, whose blush is so bright, I can see it all the way across the dimly lit room.
I should be loving this right now, everyone questioning her character, but I’m surprised when the satisfaction I was expecting to feel doesn’t come. Instead, I find myself feeling more protective of her than anything.
When the fuck did that happen?
I guess all those sleepless nights are starting to catch up with me.
“All right, now that’s enough.” My voice cuts through the chatter, sharper now, and the room slowly settles. “Since I’d like to get something accomplished tonight, let me just clear the air.” I point to Scout and motion for her to stand. She hesitates, then rises slowly like she’s unsure of the direction I’m going. “Yes. The rumors are true. Scout and I were married over the weekend…”
A fresh wave of gasps ripples through the room as Scout gives a small, shy wave, looking like she could combust on the spot.
“And while we’re on the subject…” I pause, letting my voice drop low enough to make people shift in their seats. “Let me be very clear… If I ever hear anyone questioning my wife’s integrity again—insinuating she cheated on her ex or anything of the sort—there will be hell to pay. Do I make myself clear?”
Heads nod all around me as hushed agreements fill the air.
“Good,” I say, feeling my blood pressure slowly beginning to calm down. “Since everyone is so preoccupied with my love life, I guess I’ll go ahead and start off the meeting.” I glance around the room as all eyes zero in on me as I get ready to make my big announcement… But when I notice Jett sitting in the third row, arms crossed, wearing a look of content amusement to not be involved in any of the drama, I wince.
So… I may have forgotten to give him a heads up about one tiny detail I sort of went rogue on. Of course, of all nights, Roman wasn’t able to make tonight’s meeting to help me deflect. Make no mistake, I love my middle brother, but I’d happily throw him under the bus if it means dodging the wrath of the loose cannon that is Jett Kingsley.
Perspiration beads at my neck, and I swipe at it, already bracing for the explosion.
He’s going to freak the fuck out. But maybe it’s better with an audience. At least then he can’t get away with murdering me. If nothing else, the dozens of casualties should at least slow him down, right?
Jett gives me the slightest nod, as if saying,good job wrangling the circus. And a pang of guilt twists in my gut.
Just say it. Rip it off like a Band-Aid.
“I wanted to update you on the actions I’ve taken after our last meeting.” I’m trying my best to avoid looking at Jett, though I can practically feel my skin sizzling from the glare he’s shooting me.
Too late to back out now.
I blow out a breath as my spite grabs the wheel. “After our last meeting, I took your suggestions into consideration, and I agree, we do need to spice things up around here. Bring a little life to our downtown area,” I say, trying to keep my tone even. “Which is why this year’s festival won’t just feature anothertemporary performance; it’ll leave a permanent mark. A mural, a beautiful piece of art we can admire for generations?—”
My announcement is interrupted when the door swings open. Two more people slip in, and the volume in the room starts to rise.
I raise my voice to cut through it. “—and, who better to bring them to life than our very own hometown artist… ScoutKingsley.”
Chaos. Absolute, beautiful chaos.
Half the room erupts in cheers; the other half launches into a full-blown debate about preserving the town’s “wholesome” image.
It’s a shit storm of epic proportions, and I love knowing I’m the one who lit the match.
“Finally,” Miss Scarlett calls over the noise. “I think it’s a wonderful idea!”
“I knew this would happen!” Clyde hisses to Gus. “Our town’s going to hell in a hand basket with this criminal in charge.”
