“Sorry,” I mumbled, ducking my face and slowing my step so the tap of heels could be more ladylike.
Sniffing in disgust, Mother grabbed my arm and hauled me after her. I think the ladies waiting in the parlor to fix me up had heard my scolding. They each sent me sympathetic grimaces and were extra nice as they worked simultaneously on my face and hair. The entire time, my mother stood guard, offering the occasional nasty critique, and by the time they were done, I had to admit, I looked good. I swear the makeup made me appear eighteen, maybe even older. And there wasn’t an ounce of frizz to my hair; every curl looked amazing.
“The photographer’s here,” Father announced as he strolled by, shuffling through a pile of mail in his hands.
“Good.” Mother urged me to stand with an almost proud smile, then she called sharply. “Abbott. She’s ready. What do you think?”
“Hmm?” He paused to frown at her.
Mother hitched her chin my way. “Felicity,” she said.
“Oh, yes.” He glanced over, barely looking at me. “Very nice.”
“I know.” Mother preened. “I had to go out of state to find just the perfect stylist to produce this kind of miracle to her untamable hair.”
I shrank my shoulders a little, embarrassed that for a moment there, I thought she’d been happy with me and the way I looked. But no, she was pleased with the transformation she had orchestrated.
No longer worried about glowing from my newfound love in front of her or anyone else in my family, I followed her outside, miserable and hot, and ready to get the day over with.
Garrett met us as he was going in. He paused and took me in, studying me from head to toe. After a snort, he passed by, saying, “Might’ve looked better if you’d stuffed your bra.”
I gazed after him as he entered the house, definitely no longer glowing and suddenly self-conscious. What if Knox had had the same thought? What if he’d been disappointed? He hadn’t seemed as if he minded my breast size last night, but what if—
“Felicity!” Mother snapped. “My God, what is wrong with you? Quit dawdling and come along.”
I nodded and hurried after her toward a man who was waiting with a black bag slung over his shoulder and one of those enormous professional cameras in hand.
He’d already scoped out the yard and had a few places in mind to click off some shots. I swear, I was this close to getting stung by a bee at the rose arbor, but I didn’t say a word.
After getting a majority of my poses in the gazebo, Mother decided she wanted a family portrait taken here too, since the photographer was on hand.
Twenty minutes of moaning and grumbling later, the men in the family joined us. Max might have been the only person to tell me I looked nice, but he was too self-absorbed at the moment, lost in his own thoughts, to notice anyone else, and I was grateful.
I wasn’t sure what to think of him anymore. I might’ve even trusted Garrett more than I did Max. Garrett had always been open and forthright over any loathing he felt. Max was too guarded, and now I knew he wasn’t quite as kind as I’d always thought he was.
Lost in my own thoughts about how I wanted to avoid Max from here on out, I nearly jumped out of my skin when a loud crack, like a tree limb falling and crashing to the ground, came from the trees just inside the woods.
“What the devil was that?” my father groused as Mother gasped and clutched his arm.
“I think someone’s out there,” Max reported, lifting his hand to his eyes to shade some sunlight as he gazed into the woods.
I zipped my attention that way, only knowing of one person who frequented this forest. When I saw a shadow slipping through the trees, I gasped and set my hand against my chest.
“That better not be my fucking diaper vandal,” Garrett roared. He took off sprinting into the trees, and Max started after him.
Worried about Knox, I started off too, but Mother caught my arm and tripped me up. “Felicity! Do not go out there.”