Page 96 of Bit's Bliss

“I’m sorry, Eb, but?—”

I shook my head. “I can’t hear it anymore. I won’t.”

His eyes met mine.

“I’m serious. I’ve forgiven you and I understand why you did it. Now, you need to forgive yourself.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Work harder.” I looked out the window when I saw Trevino’s truck pulling through the gate. “He’s here.”

We both stood and walked to the front door.

“He could’ve driven something other than that truck. Look at you. You’re in a gown and heels?—”

“And he’s in a tuxedo. Besides, I love that truck. If he’d arrived in anything else, I would’ve been disappointed.”

My father chuckled.

“It’s nice to hear you laugh.”

“Hello, sir,” Trevino said, walking up to the front door. “And wow. You are stunning.”

I loved the way he looked me up and down, eyes blazing and a huge smile on his face. It made me feel beautiful and sexy and cherished.

“I was just saying that, as fancy as you’re dressed, I’m surprised you drove that old thing.”

As much as I wanted to smack my dad, Trevino’s response was perfect.

“Eberly loves my old truck. Maybe even more than she loves me.”

30

BIT

There was no reason for me to be nervous. I’d never known anyone who soothed me the same way Eberly did. As long as her hand was in mine, as long as she loved me, I knew I’d never feel that itch to leave again.

Tonight, though, I couldn’t help but be anxious, mainly because it was important to me that it be perfect.

Snapper gave me the same shit about picking Eberly up in my truck as her dad did, but I knew better. She loved being able to sit right next to me as much as I loved feeling her by my side.

When I’d returned from the Los Caballeros’ meeting, Alex had worked her magic, making the Stonehouse look more beautiful than I ever could have.

I’d thanked her and Eberly’s friends who’d shown up to help over and over again, as I spun in a circle, taking it in. “She’s going to love this,” I’d said. “It looks amazing.”

My sister had put her arm in mine. “I’ll let you in on a secret, Bit. She’d love it if you spread a blanket on the floor and served a picnic, because being with you is what really matters to her.” When her eyes filled with tears, she’d punched me. “Go get ready, for God’s sake.”

Now, here we were. I led her inside, where the lights twinkled, soft music played, and dinner was waiting under domes on the table.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” I asked, letting go of her hand to walk over to the bar.

“Wait,” she said, catching my wrist. “You know what I’d really like?”

“Tell me, little dove,” I said, cupping her cheek.

“I want to dance with you first.”

I spun her around and around the room that was filled with bouquets of her favorite flowers and, at the end of the song, got down on one knee.