The Promise of Us (Sanctuary Sound #2)(75)
“Okay, oh wise one.” He held her more tightly, if that was possible, because she had a way of shifting his perspective and making him feel better about himself. He wanted to give her that same feeling, but didn’t know how.
“Go ahead and tease, but if I could play tennis now, even down the road at the public courts, I would and I’d be overjoyed. I loved it that much. I’m lucky I found something else that I really care about. Something that lets me leave beauty and comfort in other people’s lives. Maybe that sounds silly, but it makes me happy.”
“It’s not silly. It’s lovely, Claire. And you do it remarkably well.” He turned over so that she was beneath him, then kissed her. “But just to be clear, you do those things just by being you.”
Her eyes glittered. “Thank you.”
They stared at each other, blanketed by the weight of unspoken sentiment.
“I don’t often beg, but, please, come with me to the gala. Take this small risk . . .” He kissed her. “I promise, nothing bad will happen.”
Chapter Sixteen
Claire adjusted the strap of the new backless cobalt-blue gown she’d bought for the gala. Her gaze homed in on the pale bit of cleavage visible through the keyhole neckline halter.
Daring. Potentially a mistake. But one that made her feel alive.
Anyone who knew her—which, in this town, would be everyone—might either gawk or laugh at her first-ever attempt at dressing sexy. And they’d know why she’d done it. Logan. She couldn’t escape speculation now that she’d agreed to be his date. His date! Another thing that sparked all kinds of dangerous hope.
She glanced at the modest black dress hanging in her closet and then smiled at her reflection. Tonight she’d be as glamorous as a woman who couldn’t wear high heels could be, and she’d enjoy it. At the very least, this marked another step in her quest to be seen as less helpless and lonely.
After she crossed to her dresser to retrieve the new rhinestone–and–faux sapphire earrings she’d purchased, she fastened them in place and smoothed her hair one last time. Once she stepped back, she took in the full view of herself, trying to pretend she was looking at a stranger. A pretty stranger. Someone who looked like she might even belong with the elegant Logan Prescott.
When she grabbed Rosie, the illusion was shattered.
She hoped Logan wouldn’t regret asking her to be his date. Her hip would ache if she tried to dance more than two or three songs. Peyton’s presence would keep her hyperaware. People would be whispering all around them. Oh God, the whole evening could turn into a gigantic disaster.
After using a tissue to blot the sweat forming on her hairline, she turned away from the imagined catastrophes and went downstairs to wait for Logan.
When she hit the bottom of the stairwell, her phone rang. “Hi, Mom.”
“Dad and I are on our way. Are you sure you don’t need a ride?”
“I told you, Logan is bringing me. We’ll be there soon.”
“I missed our tradition of getting ready together with mimosas. You know I can’t do my makeup as well as when you do it, either.”
Claire smiled. Her mother’s gorgeous eyes didn’t need makeup to shine. “I’m sure you look pretty, Mom.”
“Thanks, honey. See you soon. Be careful.”
“Bye.” Claire shook her head, all too aware that they’d never had a conversation that didn’t end with some version of “be safe.”
The sound of her doorbell caused her to go cold. There’d be no turning back now. She’d face it all—the gossip, the discomfort, and the scrutiny. All to be a princess for a night with the town’s very own Prince Charming.
When she opened the door, the sight of Logan in his tux—the one with the snowy-white dinner jacket—made her giddy. He’d paired the jacket with a black kerchief in its breast pocket and a starched tuxedo shirt with black buttons. She refrained from pinching herself, although, honestly, this moment exceeded all of her fantasies.
“Claire, you’re stunning.” He stepped forward and kissed her cheek. “Don’t want to smear the lipstick this early.”
“So do you,” she babbled before she realized she should’ve thanked him.
“I knew I’d have to keep up with you.” He winked.
“Thank you,” she managed, despite the sense she was playing a role in a movie rather than living her real life.
“Shall we go? Mustn’t keep Darla waiting . . .” He held out his elbow.
She grabbed her purse and Rosie, took his arm, and headed into the unknown.
Within minutes, they arrived at the Granby House—the stately stone mansion situated near the town green that had been donated to the town decades ago by the Granby family. Its second floor now housed town government offices. The first floor and patio, however, could be rented for private affairs, like weddings or fund-raisers like this annual literacy gala.
A valet attendant opened Claire’s door and helped her out of the car before Logan handed over the keys.
“Ready?” Logan asked, taking her by the arm.
“Yes.” On Logan’s arm, Claire felt more assured. She could do this. She had to take another step and show others that she hadn’t lost everything when the bullet, or Peyton, had struck. “I hope there will be chocolate.”