Page 72 of Inheritance
She yelped, legs kicking, laughter bubbling out against her will.
He spun her once, then tossed her onto the bed.
“Put me down,” she growled, even though she was already scrambling upright, smoothing out her dress.
“You’re so annoying,” she muttered.
Gabriel grinned and reached out to ruffle her hair.
“Stop!” she snapped, batting his hand away. Her swing missed, but it was enough to make her scowl shift into something lighter.
“You’re alright,” he said. “Isabelle called me. She’s downstairs somewhere and wants the two of you to help her, and something tells me she isn’t in the mood to be kept waiting.”
“She’ll have to,” I said, stepping closer to Caroline. I reached for her hair, smoothing it gently where he’d messed it up. “If she’s upset, I’ll just blame you.”
Gabriel raised his hands in surrender, then backed out of the room, smirking. “I accept full responsibility.”
Caroline stayed still while I worked through the tangled section of her hair, my fingers combing gently through strands. Her hair was soft but already frizzing slightly at the ends.
“You ok?” I asked.
She tilted her head just slightly. “I’m standing still while someone grooms me like a cat. So. Living the dream.”
I smiled, faintly. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant.” Her tone was even. She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t answer either.
I kept going, slow and steady. “You don’t have to wear a mask for me.”
“I’m not,” she said, too quickly.
I said nothing. Let the silence settle.
After a beat, she added, “I just don’t see the point in talking about my feelings when all anyone does is try to get around them.”
Her voice was quieter now, but firm. Not angry. Just done with the subject.
“I get it,” I said. And I did.
We didn’t speak for a while. I finished taming the last stubborn section of her hair and stepped back.
“There,” I said. “You look perfect.”
She gave me a look in the mirror, skeptical but not combative.
“I still hate this dress,” she said.
I shrugged. “Everyone else will love it.”
Her shoulders relaxed just a little. Not a smile, but something close. The sharpness in her eyes dulled for a moment.
We lingered there, both of us staring at our reflections—neither of us saying what we really wanted to.
“Ready?” I asked.
She crossed the room and absently shoved the window closed with one hand. It thudded into place but didn’t quite catch. She didn’t care.
“I guess. Let’s see what my sister wants.”
