She doesn’t realize it, but she paints an alluring picture. Smartly, she grins because she thinks she’s about to win this round. My lips curl upward because the point goes to me. Le savauge isn’t an insult. Never has been. I like her savage and wild. It is her title, and what sets her apart from every other woman.
I won’t tell her, though. She needs to discover that for herself.
“Don’t be at my next date, Livingston.”
Like Rainey, I can never back away from a challenge. Intrigued, I tilt my head to the side and cross my arms. “And if I am?” I counter.
The two of us stare at one another. We’ve done this so many times throughout the years. Provoke, incite, and placate only to repeat the process over and over again.
Just kiss her.
The thought stuns me, but once I think the three words, I can’t erase them from my mind. God, I wish I could. There’s a slight hitch in Rainey’s breath. Her eyes widen. She feels the shift in the room. I dip my head closer. Rainey doesn’t stop me and that fills me with anticipation. She wants this, too.
Just kiss her.
“Knock, knock.”
I jump back, nearly launching myself across the room to get as far away from Rainey as possible. Serene peeks her head into the room. She looks between Rainey and me with raised brows. “Am I interrupting?”
I give my sister-in-law a smile. “Not in the slightest. In fact, you just missed me turnin’ down Rainey’s proposition to come on her next date with one of the bachelors.”
I turn to Rainey in time to see the dazed look in her eyes change into annoyance. Whatever almost happened before Serene came into the room was a mistake. Things are back to how they should be. “I’d love to, darlin’. But I just can’t.” Gently I tap her under the chin. The gesture is playful, but I can’t help but notice how smooth her skin is, and the way her eyes brighten with defiance.
Rainey swats my hand away, her cheeks turning red.
“I don’t believe you for a second, but that’s not why I’m here.” Serene steps into the room with her hands filled with a large stack of cream paper and envelopes.
“What’s this?” I ask.
Very carefully, Serene places the stack of paper on the desk and takes a deep breath. “These are going to be what the invitations for the bachelor ball are written on. I wanted to ask if you could help Rainey address them in several days time, but I didn’t know if you’d left yet?”
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Rainey interjects before I have the chance to reply. “I can manage on my own.”
“It’s a lot,” Serene says. “By invitation number fifty your hand will resemble a misshapen claw.”
Rainey appears to be weighing her choices: accept my help or take the risk and have a disfigured hand for the rest of her life.
“It appears as though Rainey is more than okay walkin’ around with a gnarled hand for the rest of her life,” I say.
A frustrated groan slips from Rainey. She throws her hands up in the air. “Fine! He can help.”
“Excellent,” Serene replies. “You two can address all two hundred invitations at Belgrave?”
“My God,” I mutter.
“Wait? Two hundred? What happened to the guest list of seventy-five people?” Rainey asks with shock.
“What happened is the word has spread about this ball, and no one wants to miss it,” Serene says. “You would be surprised the amount of people I’ve had to turn away.”
“Enlighten me,” I challenge.
“Sixty people,” Serene replies, enunciating each word very slowly.
Rainey’s eyes widen. “My word.”
Serene nods, looking very pleased with herself. “Whether people like my idea or not is irrelevant. All that matters is they’re talkin’.”
“But how are they talkin’?” I’m quick to point out.
Serene pointedly ignores me.
“And before I leave, I’ve taken the liberty of updating the bachelor list for you. Just in case you forget who’s who,” Serene says with a smile.
“Oh, there’s no need for that when one has you, Serene,” I say dryly.
Her eyes narrow into thin slits as she looks in my direction.
Rainey murmurs her thanks as she accepts the list and begins to look through it. Her eyes intently scan the names on the list as though she’s studying for an exam.
I snatch the paper out of Rainey’s hands and try to get a glimpse of the names, but Rainey yanks the list back, tearing a small corner of the paper in the process. “Give me that.”
At the beginning of the sixty days she seemed reluctant, almost shy to meet the men. But as each day passes, she grows comfortable with each date she has with one of the bachelors. I think she’s been spending far too much time with Serene.
I peer around Rainey to try to get a glimpse of the names. The next elimination is soon, but names have been crossed through making it abundantly clear who Rainey wanted to continue to pursue and who she didn’t. I read the names that aren’t crossed out, but there’s one that catches my eye and causes me to burst into laughter.
I laugh so hard my sides hurt.
Rainey lowers the list to her side and straightens her shoulders. “What is it?”
I take a deep breath long enough to say, “Taylor.”
“What about him?”
I wipe the tears from the corner of my eyes as the last of my chuckles escape. “For starters his last name is Hiscock. Do you want to be Mrs. Hiscock?” I grab the paper from her, lift it in the air, and peer closely. “This has to be a typo.” Moments later, I lower the paper and grin. “No. He’s still Mr. Hiscock and you’re still Mrs. Hiscock.”
“Stop callin’ me that,” she hisses.
“Rainey, no respectable woman would be Mrs. Hiscock.”
She plucks the paper from my grip. “His last name is of no relevance to me.”
“I’m just tryin’ to help,” I offer.
Rainey clucks her tongue. “Are you, though? Because if you were tryin’ to help you wouldn’t be so arbitrary.”
I shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you. The men are unsavory.”
“No, you’re unsavory so you believe every man is unsavory.”
“All the more reason to value my opinion. I can spot fellow bastards better than most.”
I continue to look over her shoulder. “Grady? What kind of name is Grady?”
“Grady is quite a common name. The better question is, what kind of name is Livingston?” Rainey shoots back.
“It is a family name!” I object.
Rainey shrugs a small shoulder and resumes looking at the list. “My God, is Duncan’s last name Hyman?”
She twists around and appears far from amused. “It’s Hageman.”
“Wow.” I whistle. “That was close.”
“You are incredibly vulgar,” Rainey huffs.
I wink at her. “Thank you, darlin’.”
“Do not call me darlin’.”
I lean toward her. “Why not? I’ve called many women darlin’.”
Sighing, Rainey gives me her full attention. “Maybe that’s why I don’t care for the endearment.”