It was the night of the Lockharts’ Christmas Eve party, and I was a nervous wreck. It was mine and Deacon’s first time as a couple in front of all our friends and family. Sure, they already knew and said they were happy for us, but this felt different.

For the past few weeks, it had been like Deacon and I were living in our own personal little bubble where nothing from the outside could eek in and infect our private world. It was irrational, but I felt like attending this party together was a huge deal, like it was my time to prove that I really did deserve him after everything I’d put him through.

I spun in a half circle to try and see what the dress I was wearing looked like from behind. “Is this dress too much? It’s too much, isn’t it? Why the hell did I pick red? I should’ve known better. Redheads don’t wear red!”

What the hell had I been thinking? Not only was the dress red, but it was covered in sequins. The neckline dipped in a V that revealed more than a bit of cleavage, and the V at the back was even deeper, making it impossible to wear a bra. The hemline barely hit mid-thigh, making me wonder how I’d be able to sit without flashing my goods to the entire room. The black, round-toed platform Louboutin stilettos on my feet added several inches to my frame. I looked like a club chick who was trying way too damn hard.

“Jesus Christ, Fee. I’ve told you a million times already that you look gorgeous. I feel like I’ve been talking to my damn self.”

I whipped around to where Deacon stood propped in the bathroom doorway and shot him a glare. “You aren’t being a very supportive boyfriend right now.”

Uncrossing his arms to throw them wide, he asked exasperatedly, “How many different times do I have to tell you that you look hot?”

“At least three more,” I snapped.

He rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed sigh. “You’ve been bitching about that dress for twenty minutes now. We’re already late, baby. Either change or get your sexy ass in my car.”

I shot daggers at him. “You’re a pain in my ass.”

Deacon gave me that cocky half smirk. “Says the woman who’s already made us twenty minutes late.”

“Fine!” I relented with a frustrated huff, and started stomping out of the bathroom. When he didn’t immediately move out of my way, I stopped and crossed my arms over my chest. “Excuse me,” I snarked. “Are you going to let me by so we can go or not?”

His smirk remained in place. “As soon as you give me a kiss. You know how much I love it when you get all fiery.”

Pretending to still be annoyed to mask the fact that I was a little bit turned on, I gave my head a frustrated shake before tipping it back so his lips could reach mine. The kiss was quick, but no less effective.

“Now we can go,” he stated after making my knees wobble.

* * *

“Oh my goodness! Look how pretty that dress is!”

The moment Deacon and I walked in, his parents had descended.

Cybil gripped my upper arms and gave me an overly excited shake, her exuberance so great my teeth clacked together. I bit back my wince and discreetly extracted myself from her hold with a smile.

“Thanks, Cybil.” I leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You look beautiful yourself, as usual.”

“Oh, well.” She waved me off with a bashful blush. “You’re too kind. And look at you!” she declared loudly to Deacon. “My boy cleans up so well!” Cybil grabbed him by the cheeks and yanked him down to plant a kiss on one. “So handsome,” she continued. “I’ve always loved you in a suit.”

She wasn’t wrong about that. My man looked hot. When he’d walked into the bathroom earlier while I was applying my makeup, I’d almost stabbed myself in the eye with my mascara wand. Deacon’s typical style was faded jeans and a T-shirt, or faded jeans and a button-down with the cuffs rolled up, and a pair of boots.

I nearly drooled on myself at the sight of him in a black suit and charcoal shirt with black pinstripes. He skipped the tie, but even without it the outcome was still dayum!

“Mom, for fuck’s sake,” Deacon grunted in the typical annoyance you’d see from a son when it came to his mother’s affections.

“Language, Deac!” she hissed.

“Well can you blame the boy?” Deacon’s father, Nolan, chided. “You’re treating him like he’s still twelve.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back before going in himself. “Hey, son.”

“Dad,” Deacon greeted. They gave each other the man version of a hug with one-arm back smacks.

They disengaged and Nolan moved to me. “Fiona, darling. Welcome.”

After I returned Nolan’s hug, Deacon wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me backward into him.

“Oh, Nolan. Don’t they look so great together?”

I stifled a laugh as Nolan discreetly rolled his eyes behind his wife’s back. “Yes, sweetheart, they look good. Now can we please let them into the house, or do you intend to spent the entire party in the entryway?”

A big grin stretched across my face as I looked up at Deacon. He quickly glanced at the ceiling as if he were searching for patience before leading me into the house where the party was currently underway.

The instant we walking into the sprawling family room where all the partygoers were gathered, my parents saw us and swooped in.

“Hey, Mom and Dad.”

“Oh my goodness gracious! Calvin, just look at them.” My mother, Evelyn, exclaimed, and sweet Mother Mary, it looked like her eyes were glassy with unshed tears of happiness. “They’re so lovely.”

If Cybil Lockhart seemed dramatic, Evelyn Prentice topped her by at least ten percent.

My father looked just as damn happy as Mom did. I’d gotten my red hair and pale complexion from my dad, so it was obvious to me that the pink in his cheeks was due to excitement.

Dad had always been slight, thin, and short at only five-foot-eight inches. Adding the red hair that had been falling out for as long as I could remember and the paper-white skin was a terrible combination. All my life I’d heard people question what my tall, lithe mother—who just so happened to look like a woman who belonged on the runway modeling for Prentice Fashion’s designs—saw in such a plain, nerdy-looking man as my father. I never had to question it. He’d treated her like a queen, giving her whatever her heart desired, but at the same time, he wasn’t weak. He had a backbone and had never been afraid to stand up for himself if he felt he was being taken advantage of. Dad didn’t spoil my mom because he was scared of losing her. He spoiled her because he knew she was worth it. And she’d paid back that admiration with her own ten times over.

“Yes, Evelyn, dear. Absolutely lovely.”

“Dear God,” I muttered, glancing back up to find Deacon biting his lip to keep from laughing. “Let’s just make a run for it. I can totally run in these shoes, I promise. And if I trip, you can just throw me over your shoulder and keep going. You’re strong enough.”

A snort-laugh vibrated from his chest, and he lowered his head to whisper in my ear. “Just breathe, baby. No need to freak out.”

“No need? Seriously?” I whisper-yelled. “My mom’s about to cry out of sheer joy, which means your mom will join right in. And from the looks of Dad, he won’t be too far behind. I haven’t seen our moms this giddy since they got drunk on champagne while watching the royal wedding. Do you really want a repeat of that event? ’Cause it’s coming. I promise you that.”

No one wanted to see that again. You’d have thought the two of them had close, personal friendships with Kate and Prince William with how they’d behaved.

Deacon’s lips pressed against mine in a quick kiss. “Breathe,” he repeated quietly against my lips. “I love you.”

I scowled as best I could, considering we were still lip to lip. “I love you too.”

A loud squeal shattered our moment. When I turned my head, Mom was watching us. She looked like she was about to explode and splatter her joy all over the room. “Calvin, did you hear that? They said ‘I love you.’ Oh, this is so wonderful. So wonderful!”

My laser-like gaze jerked back to Deacon and I mouthed, “I told you so.”

Mom reached forward and yanked me into a hug so tight my ribs creaked. “I’m so happy for you! Best friends as children, now in love,” Mom cried. “Aren’t you so happy for them, Calvin?”

“So happy,” Dad answered, still beaming.

Someone kill me.

Something from the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I glanced to the side just as Deacon began slinking backward, like he was trying to make an escape without me.

That shady son of a bitch!

“You know what, Mom? I think Deacon would like a hug too.”

Deacon’s face fell at being busted. A shit-eating grin stretched across my lips at his severe frown. He was about to abandon me to save himself. Screw that.

“Of course, of course!” Mom let me go and wrapped her arms around Deacon’s neck. Even with as tall as she was, Deacon still towered over her, so he was forced to bend deep at her awkward hold.

“Honey.” Dad’s soft-spoken word called my attention away from my mom and boyfriend. Dad was grinning at me as he looped an arm across my shoulders. I rested against his side as he continued speaking quietly. “Are you happy?”

I returned his gentle smile and answered honestly. “Blissfully.”

His chest heaved with a deep inhale. A look of relieved contentment slipped across his face. “Good. That’s really good, my sweet girl.”

Mom had finally released Deacon from her death grip but hadn’t let him go completely. When his gaze finally met mine, he must have seen something in my expression he liked because his face went all warm and soft. It was a fantastic look. It was a look of love. It was the exact same look my father wore every time he looked at my mom, the very look I’d always dreamed of getting from a man.

“Fee!” Daphne’s voice broke through my euphoric fog. She and Sophia stopped beside me. “Damn, girl.” Sophia whistled. “That dress is fabulous.”

Deacon caught my attention once more and mouthed, “I told you so,” just like I had minutes before.

Pain in the ass.

But I loved him anyway.