I smiled as she walked away, heading for her new husband flagging her out onto the floor. “I know,” I said to no one but myself, because at the core of it all, I needed to be told that the most.
She rushed as quickly as she could to Ford, both of them smiling at each other like there was no one else around. I might not have liked Ford, I might not have wished him on my worst enemy after finding out what he’d done, but it didn’t matter what I thought about him. My sister loved him.
I’d been the victim of people scrutinizing me for who I wanted to give my love to. I wouldn’t do the same to my sister, no matter what asshole she chose to love.
That was when I finally caught sight of Boone. He hadn’t disappeared to escape the stifling air that traveled with my family and their friends. Instead, he was camped out beside my dad, talking to him in a way I’d never before seen them converse. It was a peaceful, bordering on respectful sort of conversation. I wasn’t sure how long they’d been talking, but when Boone shook hands with Dad before walking away, his shoulders relaxed with what I guessed was relief.
He didn’t scan the crowd for me. He didn’t search the tables. He just headed in my direction like he knew exactly where I was without needing sight to guide him. Our connection had always run deep. Beyond attraction. Beyond friendship. It landed somewhere in the realm of the soul’s bearing.
He was still in the same jeans and shirt he’d showed up in, but he didn’t seem to care that he was in casual wear while everyone else had donned their most formal. Kind of like I’d gotten over the fact I was parading around in the most unflattering dress for my body type. We’d had plenty of experience dealing with other people’s disapproval and didn’t seem too concerned about changing that trend now.
“So? Did you win him over?” I called out as he lunged up toward the head of the table.
It was only then that his eyes drifted my way. They were lighter than normal today. As light as I’d ever seen them. “I think it’s safe to say we can be in the same room together without attempting to kill one another now.”
I smashed my lips together and nodded in approval. “Progress.”
“Serious progress.” Boone crashed into the chair beside me, reaching for my seat and pulling me closer. He wound his arms around me and pulled me into his lap. He’d never been stingy with his affection in the past, and that was one thing I was happy had travelled with him to the present.
Somewhere in the midst of him settling me deeper into his lap, arching my back far enough so our mouths were aligned, I heard it. The sound I’d been dreading but knowing somewhere along the way, it was bound to echo in my ears.
That sound was the tearing of the seams stitching together The Thing. Again. The seamstress had done what she could, but it still didn’t fit right. I doubted any amount of letting out or rebuilding would make it fit.
“Ah, shit.” Boone winced, returning me to a more upright position. “I think I just killed The Thing.”
I felt cool air rushing against the side of my body where the tear must have been. From the feel of it, the rip spanned from my hip to my armpit. “And this is something to be sad about because?”
Boone ran his fingers down my freshly exposed skin. His extra-light eyes went darker. “Because I was looking forward to tearing it off of you later. Alone. You. Me. Minus the five hundred people who keep mistaking me for the hired help.”
I felt my heart pick up speed. “There’s still plenty of dress left for the tearing.”
He grinned at me as his fingers slid through the tear to cup my back. “Was that you and Charlotte I saw making what looked an awful lot like a truce?”
“I think so, yeah.” My heart jacked up again when he leaned his face closer to mine.
“You making amends with Charlotte. Me shaking hands with your dad.” He paused just long enough to drop a lingering kiss onto the side of my neck. The sensation of it lingered a while in other areas. “I think that’s our cue to leave.”
“I thought our cue to leave was you talking about tearing dresses off of me.”
“I’d say we’ve had more than enough cues. Let’s get out of here.” In one smooth motion, Boone had me on my feet and had popped to a stand beside me. Weaving his hand through mine, he started to lead me away from the table and through the reception festivities.
We were both grinning as we rushed through clusters of people, feeling like a couple of kids skipping classes on a Tuesday afternoon. I felt light, a floating kind of light that would have no doubt sent me into the sky if Boone hadn’t kept his hold on my hand.
We’d just made it to the edge of the party and were almost free when I heard our names being shouted from behind us.
“Keep going,” I instructed, letting my feet take me as fast as I could.
Boone listened, keeping our pace, but when I heard my dad shout after us again, I found my pace slowing.