Page 26 of Wedding Contract
“Then they'll come here.” I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. I know I need a nice dress for this event. “You don't care for that idea either?”
“There is this girl I follow on social media. She's local and makes her own dresses. Maybe I could reach out to her. Her stuff is really nice.” They still are costly, nowhere near the level those I'm sure Charles was going to have picked out for me, but she doesn't do them all by hand, so her prices are a touch more sensible.
“A small business owner. I love that idea.” His answer is exactly what I mean about him actually listening to me.
“You do?”
“Of course. I see the things you craft. I'm sure you have an eye for these things.” It's a simple compliment, really, but it makes my throat grow tight. How is it that this man that’s only known me for such a short time is able to be so kind and considerate?
“I’ll send her a message now to see if she’s available. I really appreciate it.”
“Belle, you don’t have to thank me. What’s mine is yours, and all I want is for you to be happy here with me.”
I walk over to him. “I wantusto be happy here.” I rest my hands on his chest.
“I’m ecstatic you’re letting me move in.”
“You do know you own the place, right?”
His brows pull together. “But you’re okay with it?”
“Yes, I’m fine with it.” I watch relief take over, his shoulders dropping. “I worry that you'll tire of this?—”
“I won't,” he says with utter confidence. I keep going.
“But I still want to give this a try.” I'm not going to let the actions of others from my past sway this. Sure, I'm scared he could break my heart, but what if he doesn't? What if I could really have a happily ever after like I read about in my romance books?
Charles leans down to press a kiss to my mouth. My fingers dig into the front of his shirt, and I push my body more into his. When a throat clears, I jump, having forgotten people were here. I don't get far; Charles tucks me into his side.
The man easily engulfs me with his size. People are going to die of shock when they see this is Charles Wickham.
“We're all finished,” Tomas, the man who'd been leading the moving crew, tells him.
“Thank you. I'll have my assistant reach out to handle the details.”
“He already did.”
“Of course he did. Thank you,” Charles tells him before he leaves.
“Let's go take a peek at the office.” I grab his hand, wanting to see if there has been much change. “You already knew I was going to say yes to the shared office?”
“I guessed and hoped you would.” He shrugs his shoulders.
I turn to face him, leaning up on my tippy toes to place a quick kiss on his mouth.
“Thank you,” I say.
“You haven’t even seen it yet.”
“I’m sure it’s perfect.” I smile before turning and pulling him along with me to enter the office.
I was right. It is indeed perfect. So much so I burst into tears because all of this is too good to be true. The realization that I’m no longer alone is overwhelming but in the best of ways.
Chapter Twenty
WICK
“What do you think?” Belle holds her hands out away from her body to display the dress she bought from the designer on social media. Because the time was short, Belle opted to buy one of the dresses the designer had already made, and then she tailored it to fit Belle’s curves. Fit might be an understatement. The navy-blue fabric drapes across the rise of her breasts, leaving a small swell of flesh playing hide-and-seek when she moves. It’s gathered tightly to one side of her waist and falls in a straight column to the floor. A small strip of fabric hugs her shoulder while the other curves around her biceps. When I get close, I realize it’s not fabric but rather thousands of tiny navy crystals welded together.
