I took the opportunity to study his face, enjoying the view of him up close. Despite his attempts to mask his handsomeness with wild hair and a bushy beard, he was still remarkably attractive. Granted, he was also still dangerous. But I liked to think we’d formed something of an odd friendship. With that friendship came an equally odd affection.
It was true, I was beginning to feel affection for him. And I knew I was totally nuts—seeing as how I was blackmailing him, and I was still a little afraid of him, and he wasn’t acting out of the kindness of his heart—but there it was. Affection, plain and simple.
“I have an idea,” he announced, snapping the fingers of one hand. “And it’s brilliant.”
“Of course it is.” I grinned at him, enjoying my view even more now that his clever eyes were bright with excitement and pointed at me.
“Billy will take you on a date.”
I started, my grin immediately falling into a gaping frown of absolute horror. “Wait . . . what?”
“You and Billy. A date,” he said slowly and loudly, pronouncing every syllable, as though I was hard of hearing.
Unthinkingly, I smacked his arm and, leaning close, responded in a rushed whisper. “I heard you the first time, I’m not deaf.”
“Good. Just checking.”
“No. Not good. I’m not going on a date with Billy!”
Now he frowned. “Why not?”
“Because . . .” I waved my arms around to no purpose. “Didn’t you just witness that train wreck a minute ago?”
He nodded solemnly. “It was impossible to miss.”
A strangled sound escaped my throat. “How can you possibly think a date with Billy is a good idea?”
“Precisely because of how you reacted.” His tone was maddeningly rational and academic. “You want a husband, yes?”
“Yes,” I whispered, glancing behind Cletus unnecessarily to ensure we weren’t being overheard.
“And I’m guessing you want to marry someone your parents approve of, yes?”
I hesitated, then nodded tightly, realizing where he was going with this.
He was right. Of course he was right. If I could make it through a date with Billy, then I could make it through a date with anyone.
“I see your point,” I admitted miserably.
“Oh, now. Come on. Billy isn’t so bad.” Cletus nudged my shoulder, repeating my words from earlier.
I huffed an exasperated laugh. “Yeah. Not so bad. Except I think you’re forgetting one very important fact.”
“I never forget facts.” He shook his head quickly, both dismissing and teasing me. “Facts are my friends.”
“Oh yeah? You think so?”
“I know so. I send facts Christmas cards every year and they reciprocate with peppermint bark.”
“Well then, how about this fact: Billy will never ask me out on a date.”
And that was a fact.
Billy Winston was completely and irrevocably in love with Claire McClure. This information was not widely known, but I knew. I was a people watcher.
He’d been in love with her for years. Years upon years. They would watch each other, always casting cautious yet longing glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking. It was both heartbreaking and frustrating to see two people so desperately in love guarding their hearts.
Therefore, I knew—for a fact—that Billy Winston would never, ever, not in a million years, ask me out on a date.
CHAPTER 9
“Don't laugh at the spinsters, dear girls, for often very tender, tragic romances are hidden away in the hearts that beat so quietly under the sober gowns.”
― Louisa May Alcott, Little Women
Jennifer
When Billy Winston asked me out on a date, it was terrible . . . and then it wasn’t.
Allow me to explain.
“Everyone, y’all know Jennifer, right?” Cletus ushered me into his family’s house, interrupting their conversations to introduce me.
I gave the room a tight smile and a little wave, unable to lift my gaze due to the pressure of twenty or so eyeballs moving over my person.
“I don’t.”
I glanced up, finding a tall, gorgeous woman with dark brown hair and smiling brown eyes standing from her place at the couch. I immediately recognized her as Sienna Diaz. I recognized her because she was a famous movie star and I’d seen all her movies. She was fantastic.
Sienna held her hand out to me and I stepped forward in a bit of a daze, not because she was a movie star, but because she had an aura about her, like a gravitational field with 4th of July sparklers.
“You know Jenn, Sienna. She’s the Banana Cake Queen,” I heard Beau explain.
My heart fell, but I salvaged my smile. “Very nice to meet you.”
“Oh. Yes. I know you by reputation.” She sounded delighted and gave my hand a little squeeze before releasing it. “I’ve had your amazing cake.”