Beneath This Mask (Beneath, #1)(72)

I descended into the pool and followed her as she floated backward. Trapping her against the concrete edge, I ducked my head to kiss her shoulder, her neck, and then her jaw. “So you say you’re ready for a whole hell of a lot more…”

She threaded her fingers through my hair and met my eyes. “I’m ready for anything, as long as it’s with you.”

“Not just anything, Charlie. Everything.”





The early afternoon sunshine heated my skin; I closed my eyes and soaked it up. A crowd of people poured from the arched doorways of St. Louis Cathedral. Simon pressed a kiss to my shoulder.

“You look incredible. And I’m the luckiest bastard on the planet.”

My vintage Dior dress had cost me almost two months’ worth of pay from my very beloved job—Director of Finance of The Kingman Project. It was perhaps the most indulgent purchase I’d ever made, but seeing the look on Simon’s face as I walked down the rose petal strewn aisle on his father’s arm was worth every penny. The strapless, champagne-colored bodice faded into a thinly layered tulle skirt of the same color. It was encrusted with hundreds of scattered crystals that glittered like diamonds in the sun.

My eyes devoured Simon. He was, as always, devastatingly handsome in a tux. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” I tilted my face up for a kiss. “Guess that makes me one lucky girl.”

And I was lucky. My father might not have given me away, and my mother might not have looked on with tears in her eyes as her daughter married the man she loved, but today—everyday—I was surrounded by people who accepted me for who I was. They’d welcomed me without question when I’d had no past, and embraced me unconditionally even after my secrets had been revealed. They’d shown me what true family was supposed to be.

Simon brushed his lips across mine before straightening as Con approached, Huck at his side. Handing off the leash to Simon, Con said, “Better treat her right, Duchesne. Or you’ll answer to me.” While his words carried a warning, the tone wasn’t harsh. Simon and Con had, after a few fits and starts, formed a solid friendship of their own.

The men shook hands. “You have my permission to kick my ass if I don’t.”

Con released Simon’s hand and focused on me. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Happy looks good on you, Lee. Give ‘im hell.”

“Thank you. For everything,” I whispered.

Con nodded and slipped away to find his date.

“He’s right; happy looks beautiful on you.” I turned toward the familiar voice to see Juanita dabbing at her eyes with a delicate handkerchief.


I stepped away from Simon to wrap my arms around her.

“Thank you for being here.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She squeezed me tightly for a long moment before releasing me.

“Don’t forget this, girly,” Yve said, holding out a feathered parasol. “It’s almost time.”

I accepted it from her, along with a hug.

“Thank you. Both of you.” The smile that stretched across my face was so wide it made my cheeks ache. It had been that way for days. Blinking back sentimental tears, I twirled the parasol, making the feathers bounce.

Simon returned to my side and accepted hugs from both Yve and Juanita. Then he held out his free hand. “Are you ready, Mrs. Duchesne?”

I laced my fingers through his and smiled up at him. “I am now.”

The bandleader called off a beat, and the sound of jazz filled the air as the wedding party, followed by all of our guests, moved en masse toward the streets of the French Quarter.