Page 147 of His Surrender

“I’m thirty-four.”

“Apparently, not emotionally,” he says under his breath.

Before I can answer, Aubrey’s bedroom door opens, and every coherent thought leaves my brain.

She steps into the hallway slowly, smoothing one hand down the side of a deep burgundy gown that fits her like it was designed exclusively for her. The dress skims every curve without trying too hard. Her hair falls over one shoulder in loose waves, exposing the graceful line of her neck. The diamond earrings I insisted on that afternoon catch the light with every step she takes.

She stops a few feet away, suddenly looking far less confident than she did when she disappeared into her room.

“So”—she smiles nervously— “what do you think?”

What do I think? I think I forgot how to breathe. I think every man at this charity is about to become a problem. I think asking her to come might have been the best and worst decision I’ve made all year.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” she asks.

I finally remember how words work.

“I …” I shake my head slowly.

“You are”—beautiful doesn’t even begin to cover it— “absolutely breathtaking.”

Pink blooms across her cheeks. “Really?”

I laugh quietly.

“Sweetheart”—I close the distance between us— “if you weren’t already my girlfriend”—I lean down, brushing my lips against her forehead— “I’d spend this entire evening trying to convince you to become mine.”

She laughs softly. “I was worried the dress might be too much.”

I look her up and down one more time. “It’s exactly enough.”

The ballroom glows beneath towering crystal chandeliers.

Round tables dressed in ivory linen stretch across the room while the band plays onstage, where tonight’s speakers will eventually address the crowd.

Servers weave effortlessly through clusters of guests, carrying champagne and delicate hors d’oeuvres.

The room is filled with investors, CEOs, and professional athletes. People accustomed to being photographed.

Sawyer spots us first.

“There he is!” He grins before his eyes land on Aubrey. “Well,”—he nudges Kayla— “I suddenly understand why Dean spent forty-five minutes picking out a tie.”

Kayla laughs. “I told you she’d look gorgeous.”

Aubrey hugs Kayla. “You look amazing.”

“So do you,” Kayla says with a warm tug of her hand.

Roman and Eva join us a few moments later, followed by Walker and Jessie. Colton and Melissa arrive just behind them.

Within minutes, we’re surrounded by my closest friends.

The conversation is easy and comfortable, and then I notice it. One of the junior executives from our finance division walks past.

His eyes land on Aubrey and wander up and down her body, and then he continues walking.

I tell myself to ignore it.