Page 61 of Saving His Heart

“We all got the same talk,” Lexi informs me.

I turn to Preston for help, and the asshole just hands me my phone with a kiss on the lips. In front of everyone.

Lexi and Easton make puking noises like they are twelve years old, then scowl at each other when they realize they did the same thing. The room erupts in good-natured laughter at their expense.

I’ve never experienced love on this level, and I have a hard time keeping my shit together.

“You’re family, too,” Preston whispers.

“How do you do that?” I demand.

“Do what?”

“Read me like that.”

“I pay attention, Goldie. Get used to it. You’re mine, which means you’re also theirs,” he tells me, gesturing at the sizable crowd gathered in his suite.

“Mom, dinner will be ready at six-thirty p.m., so make sure the ladies of honor are back here and ready by then.”

Checking my phone, I notice that is seven hours from now.

“Preston, that’s seven hours away—”

“Oh, good grief. Seven hours is not nearly enough time.” Sylvie interrupts. “Chop, chop, ladies. Time to go. We have a big day ahead of us.”

Like a deer in headlights, I turn to Preston. “I’m supposed to shop for seven hours?”

He only grins at my discomfort. “Have a good day, dear.”

The next thing I know, Lexi is looping her arm through mine and dragging me after the others. “Come on, chica, it looks like we’ve been adopted by Mommy Warbucks for the day.”

“This is going to sound really childish, but please don’t leave me today. I don’t fit in here, Lex.”

Out of nowhere, Lanie hooks my left arm with hers. “None of us do, Ems. But here we are, and you know what I attribute that to?”

“What?” I choke out.

“Karma. Good things happen to good people. You’re good people, Ems. It sounds like it’s about time some things go your way.”

* * *

Man,my feet hurt. I’m also nearing an epic meltdown. Sylvie has spent more money on clothes for me in the last three hours than I have spent on all three of my sisters in the previous four years. I’m hiding on a bench in a store that I cannot afford a single sock in, hoping this will all be over soon when Sylvie materializes like a fairy godmother.

“There you are, Emory. I’ve been searching for you.”

I try so hard, but I know I cringe when she speaks. Her tinkling of laughter that follows is a dead giveaway.

“Ah, I just needed a break.”

“I hear you. Mind if I sit?”

“Sure. And in case I forget, thank you for everything today, Sylvie. This was way too much, and I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

She bumps shoulders with me before she speaks. “Well, that’s where you have things wrong, Emory. I should be thanking you. Ten years ago, I thought I lost my Preston for good. He was always larger than life. He was the glue, the one who looked out for everyone, but when his father died suddenly, we lost that carefree, loving boy. You’ve brought him back to me.”

Guilt. It sinks into my gut like a lead weight.

“But Preston isn’t why I wanted to take you shopping today.”