Page 35 of Beautiful Envy

Darcie ran to her room when we returned to the house with a bag. Bubba wasn’t there yet, so I told Brooks I’d see him later.

Taking a shower, I took my time to shave and use all my best products. I wanted to smell and look good for Darcie tonight. Putting on a button-down shirt, I left the top buttons open as I slid on a pair of worn-in jeans that cupped my butt. Tossing on an old cowboy hat and boots, I sprayed myself with my cologne before heading out the door.

Girls tended to think guys didn’t care about their appearance or put as much effort into it as women did. I was here to tell you that some guys did. Perhaps my upbringing and background in the modeling industry played a part, but I’d be the first to admit that I liked my designer products regardless.

Stepping into the kitchen, I froze in my tracks when I spotted Darcie. She was already dressed in a flowy skirt with a shirt that knotted under her breasts, giving a glimpse of her bare stomach.

“Shit,” I cursed, taking her in.

“What? Does this not work?” she asked, looking down at her outfit. Paired with her boots and hat, she was a cowboy’s wet dream.

“Oh, Sunflower. It fucking works. Too well. I’m going to be fighting off men all night who try to touch what’s mine,” I growled.

Her eyes widened at my words. I stalked forward, no longer waiting to stake my claim. Pulling her close, a floral scent fell over me as I pressed my lips to hers, searing it into my memory. This would be the last girl I ever kissed.

Drawing back, I took in her rosy cheeks, bright eyes, and plump lips. She stared at me, a little dazed.

“You ready?”

She nodded, taking my hand as I led her out of the room. Cowboy shouted something, but I was too busy forming plans to keep Darcie out of harm's way and not kill anyone.

I decided to take the truck, unsure if I’d be able to control myself if she wrapped her arms around me. I’d be pulling over a mile from here to have my way with her. Opening the passenger side door, I lifted her up, surprising her as she squeaked. Winking, I walked around and got in, not wasting time starting it.

Soft music played as I concentrated on driving, too worried I'd crash if I looked over at her. When she spoke, it was a punishment and reward wrapped in one.

“I didn’t expect you to be the way you are.”

“How so?” I asked, peeking a glance at her.

“You come off as the flirty fuck boy. I figured you’d be good for a night but wasn’t sure there was longevity there.”

My hands tightened on the wheel. Her words pierced something in me. For so long, that had been precisely who I was. It was easier to give people what they wanted.

But that wasn’t the entire truth. I did it so I wouldn’t have to show the real me.

“And now?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“I’m finding out all these layers about you. You’re intriguing, kind, passionate, and a good friend. And did I mention sexy? Yep, you’re definitely that.” She giggled, the sound soothing some broken pieces in me.

“Are you sure you’re looking at the right person?” I joked out of habit.

“I can see through your jokes, Laws.” Her voice was soft, and the use of the name she’d given me made my heart race.

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Sorry. It’s a reflex. People tend to only want the jokey, playboy version of me.”

“I’m sorry you think that’s all you have to offer them because you’re so much more.”

“You’re too good for words, Darcie. You have no idea the power you have over me right now.”

“Hmm. I can imagine. You’re affecting me as well. Whether you believe it or not.”

I swallowed, glancing over at her. I wasn’t sure what to say after that. We’d both just been vulnerable, dropping our shields. But what did we do next? I decided to take a chance.

“I grew up with an OCD mother. Every aspect of my life was controlled to perfection. Our house was meticulously cleaned, our clothes were the best, and we were always on our best behavior. I didn’t realize home was meant to be warm and inviting. I thought the museum I lived in was normal.”

“That's why your room is so meticulous?” she asked, turning to look at me.

“Yeah. Some things are harder to stop than others, especially when I like things to be clean. It’s hard to separate the knee-jerk reaction to what is healthy.”

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