Page 20 of Accepted Precedent
“This dress is the same price as my rent, Mick,” she groans, marching back into the fitting room.
“Slow down, angel. Don’t worry about the price tag; it looks incredible on you. It’ll be perfect for engagement photos.” My stomach twists. Andrew has no fucking clue how lucky he is—neither does Evelyn. I’d give anything to be in their shoes.
President Taylor approached me recently about marrying his daughter, Jaclyn. I declined, but the more I ruminate on it, the more I wonder if I made the right decision. She’s a beautiful woman—not as beautiful as Evelyn—and I could have the dream my father promised me. Except, no matter how politically advantageous it would be to marry a Taylor, my heart belongs to Andrew. And, if I’m being honest, I’m also struggling with my strong feelings for Evelyn. If I bide my time, I’ll have the man who understands me better than my brother, and the woman who keeps me on my toes, making me want to give her the world and earn her affection.
“Engagement photos. Right,” she hums. “When will those be scheduled?”
“I’ll have Finn arrange it. You’ll also need to reach out to a few friends as witnesses for the wedding.” As much as I should be at their wedding, I don’t know if I can do it. Watching the man I love marry someone else—not just anyone, a fucking spitfire—would be a living hell.
“You only need two, you know.” she deadpans. “Andy will probably invite Alex and you’ll be there.”
“Finn already told you, we need it to look real. Eloping only works if the photos show you surrounded by friends and family. Invite your sister, and maybe Ileah or Jaclyn.” With Finn in attendance, Ileah isn’t the best choice, but if Jaclyn isn’t available, Ileah will need to be there for it to look real.
“And say what?” she retorts. “Tell my friends that I’m marrying my best friend for political reasons? That I’m no better than Ileah for marrying a man she doesn’t love? That I don’t have the same popularity as Jaclyn or Ileah because my father isn’t a President or a Supreme Court Justice, so this could blow up in Andrew’s face? Or should I admit that all of this could end up to be completely pointless?”
“Andrew will win.” I stand and close the distance. “And you, my angel, will spend a few years in the shadows, until I bring you back into the light.”
“This gold dress isn’t bright enough for you?” she teases, twirling in the satin fabric. It stops a second after she does, and it’s taking everything in me to not reach out and touch her. “I’m a damn beacon.”
“No, Evie, you’re the anchor—you keep everything from drifting away.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She bites her lip to hide her smile, but I desperately want to take that plump bottom lip between my own teeth.
“Well, it’s true.” Brushing her hair off her shoulder, I can’t resist tugging gently to expose the beautiful mark I left behind this morning. “We’ll need to cover this up.”
Evie lightly licks her lips, drawing my gaze to her mouth. “Or we blame it on Andrew. It’ll sell the story.”
I lean in, my lips nearly brushing hers, when a throat clears behind me. “Excuse me, miss, but are there any jewelry or accessories you’d like to see with this dress?”
Evelyn tries to pull back, but I keep her close, and her eyes never leave mine as I reply for her, “No. I’ll see to it that we have the perfect necklace and earrings.”
Once the sales associate is gone, I can’t help myself, closing the small distance and kissing the one woman I shouldn’t want but am desperate to keep. It isn’t the same frenzied kisses from this morning, when we couldn’t get close enough. It’s cautious, but she melts into me, letting me take what I want from her. The thought of anyone touching Evie—even Andrew—has jealousy coursing through my veins. He'll have these lips all to himself for years, and she’ll have his. My only hope is their celibacy pact will still allow me stolen moments like this one.
As we break apart, her breath is heavy, lust pooling in her bright blue eyes. “What are we doing, Mick?”
Truthfully, I have no fucking clue. I should keep my mouth to myself, but my need for her is all-consuming. I don’t answer her question. Instead, I offer, “Let’s pick out a few more things, then I have a surprise for you.”
Evelyn tries on a few dresses for daytime appearances with Andrew—it’ll hold her over until I can have a full wardrobe ordered. We drop them off at the car, then make our way to the jewelry store three doors down.
The store is dark and a little depressing. As I’m taking in the drab space, a woman in all black greets, “Welcome. What brings you in today?”
“Could you point us in the direction of engagement rings?”
“What?” Evie whisper-shouts, and I keep her hand firmly in mine as she attempts to tug it back.
“Wonderful. Right this way, sir.” She turns on her heel and we follow.
“Andrew hates shopping,” I explain, keeping my voice low. “I figured I would help him with this part.”
“You’re not buying me a ring here. I’ll only be married to Andy for a few years. That money would be better spent feeding the homeless or, I don’t know, literally anything else.”
I’ll never admit it to her, but the ring isn’t just from Andrew—it’s from me—and she’ll be wearing it for a hell of a lot longer than a few years. A promise I intend to keep. “Your engagement needs to look believable. Andrew’s family comes from money. The ring can be modest, but it needs to be designer.”
Evelyn sighs but nods as we approach the case. After she tries on a few settings, one catches my attention—a solitaire rounddiamond in rose gold. It’s simple, elegant, just like Evelyn. I slip it on her finger and her breath hitches.
“Mo rúnsearc,” I mutter, then quickly clear my throat. “It’s beautiful.”
Her brows pinch. “What does that mean?”
