Page 107 of Made for Wilde

I follow her over and come deep inside her, holding her tight as we shudder through it together.

After, I don’t let her go. I keep her close, her head on my chest, my arms locked around her. I press a kiss to her hair and breathe her in, then let the world fall away.

She’s my whole goddamn life. And I’m never letting her forget it.

TWENTY-TWO

CHARLOTTE

“Stop hogging all the bobby pins.”

Sarah’s voice cuts through the backstage chatter as I glance down at the arsenal of pins clutched in my left hand.

“I’m not hogging them,” I reply.

“You literally have enough there to secure a small building.” She holds out her palm expectantly. “Share the wealth, Palmer.”

I drop half the pins into her hand with a laugh. “Better?”

“Much.” Sarah grins, immediately sticking several between her teeth for easy access. “Though now I look like a very fashionable vampire.”

“The most important kind,” I say, turning back to our model. “Jade, you doing okay up there?”

“Perfect,” Jade replies from the styling chair, her voice warm with excitement. “I can’t believe I get a front-row seat to watch you two work your magic.”

It’s Saturday morning, and Sarah and I are backstage at the Fit Mountain Beauty School Auditorium, frantically setting up our station for the showcase. My hands shake slightly as I arrange our tools. Curling irons, brushes, hair spray, the works. Everything needs to be within easy reach when the clock starts ticking.

I step back to survey our station, then adjust the position of our spray bottle. My mother would have known exactly where everything should go without thinking twice. She had this incredible spatial awareness when it came to her work station. I can still picture her salon in Cheyenne, every tool in its perfect place, her hands moving with practiced grace that made it all look effortless.

People still talk about her. Even here, hours away from where she built her reputation, I’ve had instructors mention her name when they learned who my mother was. That legacy sits heavy on my shoulders today.

The baby shifts inside me, a flutter of movement that makes me press one hand to my stomach. She’s been restless all morning, little feet and elbows jabbing at me like she’s picking up on my nerves.

“You okay?” Sarah notices my hand on my bump.

“Just active today. I think she knows something big is happening.”

Sarah grins. “She’s probably excited to watch her mama kick ass.”

I smile at that, but my stomach churns with anxiety. Fifteen percent of our final grade hangs in the balance. That sounds manageable until you’re actually standing here with your heart hammering against your ribs, knowing that judges will scrutinize every move you make.

“Thank you again for doing this,” I tell Jade for probably the tenth time this morning. “I know giving up your Saturday wasn’t exactly on your weekend agenda.”

Jade waves me off with a smile. “Are you kidding? I get a professional makeover and get to watch my cousin work her magic. Plus, you’re going to make me look amazing for my date tonight.”

Sarah beams at the mention of her cousin’s date.

“Well, whatever he has planned, you’re going to look incredible,” Sarah says, running her fingers through Jade’s hair to test the texture. “We’ve got this.”

I wish I had Sarah’s confidence.

My hands won’t stop trembling as I line up our brushes. I pick up a rattail comb, set it down, then pick it up again and move it two inches to the left. Nothing feels quite right.

The baby gives me another kick, stronger this time, right under my ribs. I suck in a breath and press my palm against the spot. “Easy there, baby girl.”

“She’s really going today, huh?” Sarah asks.

“She hasn’t stopped moving since I woke up. I think she’s more nervous than I am.”