Make Me Yours (Bellamy Creek #2) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,6
three hours north of Bellamy Creek.
“But there will be some single girls there. Maybe one of them will find their soul mate.” She poked my shoulder. “Or maybe you will.”
I sighed. “I’d settle for someone to dance with.”
“Someone with broad shoulders, piercing blue eyes, and a nice big dick?”
“Shhhh!” I glanced behind me, worried Mariah might have wandered out of the den.
“You’ll get that dance, because you’re the maid of honor and he’s the best man. Wedding party dance.”
“That’s not the same as being asked to dance, Blair.”
“So ask him.”
“I can’t do that!”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, you can, Chey. One of these days you’re just going to have to be brave and tell him how you feel. Either that or pine for him the rest of your life.”
“At least I’d keep my dignity.”
“Maybe, but your dignity isn’t going to keep you warm at night, is it?” Rising up on her toes, she gave me a hug. “I’ll see you Thursday, but I’m sure we’ll talk before then.”
“Okay.” Thursday was Thanksgiving, and my mom and I were hosting dinner at our house. It would be small—just Griffin and Blair, Cole and Mariah and Mrs. Mitchell, my mom and me—but I was looking forward to the long weekend and cooking a big, traditional meal. I loved to cook. “‘Night. Drive safe.”
“‘Night.”
I watched Blair hurry through the chilly dark and jump behind the wheel of her car, then gave her a wave as she pulled away from the curb and headed down the street. She and Griffin were so lucky they’d found each other. They had such a great story—stubbornly single mechanic falls for beautiful woman stranded in his small town. It was straight out of a movie.
And I felt lucky too, that she and I got along so well. Neither of us had a sister—I only had one brother and Blair was an only child—so it was fun to finally experience that kind of close relationship. I’d been moved to tears when she’d asked me to be her maid of honor.
After her taillights disappeared, I returned to the den, where Mariah had found her flip-flops and was zipping up her hoodie. “Ready to go?” I asked.
“Yes. That was so fun,” she said, looking at her bright blue toenails. “Can we do it again sometime?”
“Absolutely.”
“And watch Grease again too?”
I grinned, pulling my cardigan tighter around me. “You know it. Grease and I go together like rama-lama-lama, ka-dinga-da-dinga-dong.”
She laughed as we went out the front door. “Who’s your favorite character?”
“Hmm. I’ll say Sandy. I identify with her.” I looked at her as we cut across the lawn in the dark. “How about you?”
“I liked Frenchy. Think my dad would let me dye my hair pink?”
“Um, no.”
Mrs. Mitchell had said she would leave the back door open, so Mariah and I were walking up the driveway when headlights flashed at us from behind. We quickly scooted out of the way and up onto the back porch.
“Your dad’s home,” I said, watching him pull into the garage at the back of the yard. “Want to wait for him?”
“Sure.” She turned around and caught me breathing into my palm to check my breath. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly, smiling as Cole approached, the garage door closing behind him.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.” Butterflies took flight inside my belly, remembering the way he’d flipped me beneath him and pinned me down. “You’re home early.”
He nodded, slowly climbing the porch steps. “Did you guys have fun?”
“Yes,” Mariah said. “Look at my toes, aren’t they cute?” She held up one foot.
“Blue, huh?” He chuckled and shook his head, as if girls were a mystery to him.
“Can I dye my hair pink?”
“No. What do you say to Miss Cheyenne?”
Mariah wrapped her arms around me and squeezed. “Thank you, Miss Cheyenne.”
I embraced her. “You’re welcome, honey. We’ll do it again soon, okay?”
“Okay.”
Cole pushed the door open, nudging Mariah inside. “Go on up and brush your teeth. I’ll be up in a minute to tuck you in.”
“Can Miss Cheyenne tuck me in tonight, Dad?” Mariah asked.
“Not tonight, peanut. It’s late.”
“Please?” she wheedled, clasping her hands beneath her chin.
“I don’t mind,” I said.
Cole looked at me. “Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
“Okay.” He looked at his daughter. “But no wasting time. Get up there, get your pajamas on and teeth brushed, and get in bed. And be extra quiet, so you don’t wake Grandma.”
“Okay,” she said, hurrying into the house.
Cole held the door open for me, and I stepped inside the kitchen, my heart beating