Don't Marry the Ex: A Sweet Romance (The Debutante Rules Book 3)

by Emily Childs

  “Sheriff,” I say in a hoarse voice when he starts to walk away. “I need you to get her out.”

  For once, the man’s face softens in a hint of emotion. “I plan to, son.”

  Kyler draws me back again. Crowds from the surrounding shopping center are gathering. Their whispers stack on top of the unknowns crushing over the top of me. By now, Rafe and Olive have joined Zac with the other spectators watching the scene unfold. Olive’s face is splotchy, tears are in her eyes as she hugs me.

  The crackle of police radios, the stomp of heavy boots on the pavement, a few clicks of weapons and vests all collide in a nauseating chaos for the senses. I pace behind the police line, head lost in a haze. Our friends and Kyler are still as stone, occasionally one will mutter a thought, or a prayer, but we’re left to wait.

  Why was Dot here? Did Walter force her to come to my office?

  The things I should’ve done, should’ve said reel in an endless loop in my head. I should’ve told her I loved her, I never stopped loving her, I’ll always love her. Why didn’t I make that clear to her the second she gave me a chance? I should’ve been with her tonight, not working long hours.

  Then the world stills at the sound of a distant scream.

  I’ve never wondered what it would feel like to have my heart stop without warning, or what it might be like to have the heat of blood turn to ice, but at that sound, I know the sharp pain of my body ceasing to function.

  The sheriff shouts at his men. Kyler’s hand is on my shoulder, gripping too tightly as three officers rush the building, forgoing the gentle approach. If I thought the buzz of radios and commands were loud before, now the parking lot is like a warzone. Senior officers make demands, bark orders. Some draw guns.

  The burn of emotion stings my eyes and all I want is to lay eyes on Dorothy-Ann, run my fingers through her hair, hold her tightly, and tell her she’s safe. I hold the sides of my head, heart racing, and wait as all the sounds fade into nothing. As if everyone is holding their breath. Waiting.

  Hoping.

  Chapter 25

  Dot

  Walter drags me back into Sawyer’s office. My heel connects with his shin, he grunts and drops me. He fumbles backward, a look of terror on his face when someone pounds on the doors the floor below us. Sprawled on the ground, I kick at Walter again. More annoyed at his stupidity than afraid. My heel connects with his upper thigh, enough to get the man to jolt back, protecting between his legs. “What are you doing with that stupid pen!” I scramble to my feet, slapping at the air between us. Once or twice I smack his shoulder. “You idiot! You can’t just go around beating people or what—stabbing women?”

  He tries to reach for me, but at long last, my palm whips across his face. The slap echoes in the office. Walter holds his face and stares at me aghast.

  “Stop this, Walt!” I’m dizzy. Maybe my head isn’t as right as I thought. Using the corner of the desk for balance, I steady myself, my breaths heavy. “Stop or you’re going to dig your hole so much deeper.”

  He lifts his trembling palms in front of his face and drops the pen. The glisten of tears is in his eyes. He jumps like a frightened toad when more heavy steps from the raiding officers fill the building. They’re close. “What have I gone and done?” He looks to me beseechingly. “I wouldn’t have hurt you, Miss Dot. I wouldn’t—”

  He doesn’t get to finish before the door slams open, banging against the wall. The room erupts in loud voices, a whole lot of commands I don’t understand right away, and ends up with hands on me, pressing me down and away from Walter.

  Even if I know it’s the police somewhere in my mind, I can’t stop trembling as a group of officers huddle around me and take me out of the building. When the chill of the night hits my skin, I feel the heat of tears on my face. I hadn’t realized I’d started crying. Everything is wild outside. Lights and voices and people. All I want is to get away, I want to know Sawyer, Jo, Kyler are okay. Anyone associated with Walter Burg needs to be accounted for in my head, and quickly.

  We pass squad cars and I realize the officers are rushing me toward an ambulance. Seems overkill, but the way my head starts to spin in the rush, I’ll let them have it this once. Maybe I’m concussed by way of dictionary.

  “Dorothy-Ann!”

  My heart backflips. There, pushing against the police line, I find him in the sea of familiar, worried faces. Sawyer’s face is pale, eyes wide. His voice breaks when he calls my name.

  “Sawyer,” I say hoarsely, but the officers are already handing me over to the EMTs and the back ledge of the ambulance. “Please, that’s . . . please let my boyfriend through.”

  One of the officers follows my pointed finger, hesitates, but eventually calls for Sawyer to be let in.

  I never knew someone could move so fast.

  Sawyer is breathless and at my side in a few heartbeats. His hands touch me, but gently, cautiously. With one EMT taking my blood pressure, Sawyer moves in on the other side, his forehead against mine. “Dot,” he gasps, then loses his words and kisses the side of my head gently.

  “We’ve got quite a lump on the head. You riding with us?” the EMT asks Sawyer.

  “Yes,” we say together and in a few awkward motions, we’re tucked in the back of the ambulance, my hand in Sawyer’s, his lips to my fingers.

  When his eyes meet mine, a thousand unspoken words pass between us, but I don’t need to hear anything right now. I need him. All I need is him.

  ***

  “I sent Olive home,” Jace says and digs into one of the granola bars Maddie and Will brought in the snack box earlier this morning. “She keeps randomly crying about the whole thing. The woman needs sleep.”

  I snort a laugh, wincing at the burn in my head. Talk about a migraine. I ended up being kept at the hospital overnight for observation, but of course that turned into a heap of questions from the sheriff and even more statements about the entire experience. I’m not sure what will become of Walter, and I know I shouldn’t feel sympathy for the man, but I do. What a downfall. A nice, quiet guy who made the ultimate mess of his life.

  It’s a tragedy in its own way.

  “You should go home, too,” I tell her. “I’m not alone and you have all those meetings in the morning.”

  Jace rolls her eyes. “Tell me why I agreed to work for this guy again?”

  “Because the position is perfect for you. You’re a whiz with the engineering stuff.”

  “Still, sometimes I wish Daddy wouldn’t have sold the firm. You’d think the meetings would be a bit of give and take, but no. He’s the boss, he’s the one abroad, so we must cater to his time zone. Never mind the rest of us are all stateside.”

  I laugh, but it hurts my head, so I stop before I get started. “Sounds like you better grab one of your roadkill lattes before you get online with him, then.”

  Jace pretends to be offended, then glances at the chair in the corner where Sawyer sits as if he isn’t there. “I think you’re trying to kick me out to be alone with someone else.”

  “You’re quick.”

  Sawyer grins, but says nothing as Jace gives me a hug and leaves us alone. In another heartbeat, he is nestled against me in the lumpy hospital bed. My favorite part of the day. Sawyer traces down the line of my nose, kisses the tip, then kisses my lips.

  “It’s been a revolving door, hasn’t it?” I whisper. Honestly, this is the first moment we’ve really had alone since I came. My friends aren’t easy to kick out, love them as I do, but then staff from the clinic came, Maddie and Will, Kyler and Evie Jordan. My folks showed up, and for a hot second we put aside differences, so they could just be my mama and daddy and be glad I was okay.

  I won’t lie, though, it was nice to see my dad shake Sawyer’s hand and I’m pretty sure he gave a hurried apology.

  More is needed, but we’ll cross that bridge later.

  I rest my palm against Sawyer’s face, breathing in his warm skin, his body. Everything. “I don’t know what I would’ve
done if you’d been there, if Walter had gotten to you.”

  “Seriously?” he says. “Knowing you were in there because of me—”

  “Not because of you,” I insist. “Walter made his choices. He simply picked you off the list to hit first.”

  “Dottie,” he whispers against my skin. “All I could think about was not being able to talk to you again, not being able to see you again.”

  I kiss him softly. “I thought the same.”

  “I love you,” he barrels on. “I love you so much. You need to know, I never stopped. I never will.”

  I draw him closer to me and bury my face in the crook of his neck. “I love you, too. Always.”

  And when he kisses me, gentle as it is, I feel like at last things are right in the world.

  ***

  In the weeks after Walter Burg and his bad choices, I moved into my new place, got an alarm system, considered a German Shepherd, and spent every moment possible with Sawyer. How we made it so long without touching and kissing, I’ll never know.

  Tonight, the blue palace is much quieter than it was last night. Maddie became the newest single woman in our group. Her divorce was finalized with her sketchy ex and William Whitney kissed the woman long and hard for the first time. In front of everyone.

  I’m not sure who enjoyed the moment more, them or all of us. The more I’ve gotten to know Maddie, the more I think she’s perfect for my dear William. Both somewhat reserved, but funny. They make a good pair, and Sawyer tells me it matters more than anything simply to see Maddie smiling and laughing again.

  But we used the divorce as an excuse to celebrate. That’s what we do—celebrate over everything.

  Now when I let myself in, the house is practically empty but for a light on in the front room.

  “Hello? Sawyer?”

  “In here,” he calls out.

  I chuckle when I find him hovered over his laptop, dressed in his nice jeans and looking date-ready, but entirely focused on his computer screen.

  “What are you doing? Don’t ditch me for work tonight, Sawyer Lanford. I’m wearing stilettos.”

  He lifts his eyes, deliberately crawling his gaze up my legs until my cheeks heat. “Thank you for wearing them, too,” he says and stands to kiss me properly. “Come here, I made something and I want your opinion.”

  It does my heart good to see the old Sawyer coming out in his work again. Not the cool, somber businessman Lanford & Hewitt turned him into. He’d sold half the shares of HealthyRx to Kyler and now Sawyer works part-time with his software developers, not being the boss, but being one of them. I think that’s his favorite part of his week. I wouldn’t be surprised if Kyler eventually took over more than half, but none of it matters, really. Seeing the light in his eyes as he works is worth more than any million-dollar deal. Maybe it’s cliché, but it’s so true. All I ever wanted was this man to be happy.

  I like to think I help with that now.

  He directs me to the spot on the couch directly at his side, grinning like a fool. “Okay, hover the mouse over that blue button.”

  I smirk at him. “Are we playing games for the date?”

  “Indulge me. I swear, I plan to spoil you tonight.”

  “Hmm, I like the sound of that.”

  Sawyer chuckles and rests his hand on my knee. I’m used to it by now. Since that awful night, he rarely takes his hands off me. I think it’s a kind of security for him, knowing I’m right there. I don’t mind.

  The button leads me to a black screen with those colored bubbles dropping down again. “Wow, they look so real. You’ve improved it a lot.”

  “And added some things. Okay, you can only pop the bubbles with the rainbow ring around them.”

  “Rainbow? Ah, my favorite color.” We laugh. I told him on our first, first date my favorite color was rainbow. When there are so many beautiful colors, how is it possible to pick one?

  “This game is dedicated to you,” he says. “Of course there are rainbows.”

  Heat tickles my cheeks as I face the screen watching blue, violet, orange, red bubbles fall. A trill dances down my spine when I catch sight of the first rainbow bubble. “Oh, oh!” It’s harder than it looks. Those little nuggets go fast. “Got it.”

  The bubble pops with a splatter on the screen, but instead of disappearing, it opens with my name. My brow furrows.

  “Oh, there’s another one,” Sawyer says.

  I hurry to pop it.

  I love you smashes against the screen. I grin. “Sawyer, this is great. I love—”

  “Oh, another one.”

  My heart stills a bit when the next rainbow pops with: One question. The back of my throat is dry as a huge, easy to snag bubble follows. This one would be impossible to miss. I hold my breath as I click on the bubble and pop it.

  Marry me?

  I freeze as Sawyer leverages off the couch and pulls out the old black ring box I returned to him. I cover my mouth with my hands. He’s a blurry mess from a rush of tears.

  “Dottie,” he whispers. “I tried to add ‘Will you’ to the bubble, but I’m not that impressive, yet. I can’t go another day without asking you. I love you Dorothy-Ann, and I want to be married to you. Before you answer, if you say yes, you should know that I plan to tell everyone. You are not someone who should be kept a secret. So, will you marry me?”

  “Yes!” I practically scream at him, then pounce. I kiss him and kiss him and kiss him. Until I can’t breathe, until my lips are raw. Holding tightly to each other, I rest my head to his as he slides the ring on my finger, then kisses the top of my hand gently. “I love you.”

  Sawyer smiles against my mouth and shows me how he feels. He shows me for the next two hours before we finally go out on our date. As if the last year only added to the passion and love between us.

  When I lost him before, I dreamed of this day.

  Truth be told, my dreams don’t compare to the reality of Sawyer Lanford in my arms. For good. Forever.

  Epilogue

  Jace

  I had this day marked on the calendar months ago. As in the calendar that makes it clear I will be unavailable for any kind of work-related activity until tomorrow at 8 AM EST. Naturally when the request for a phone conference comes through my email, I’m more than irritated.

  I shoot back an email from outside the bathroom at the reception center, doing my best to sound entirely professional and robotic: Miss Whitney will be out of the office today, but will be back in the office on June 3rd.

  There. Take a hint. I roll my eyes as I slip my phone into my purse and hurry out to find the others.

  Everyone looks dapper, today. The guys clean up nicely. Jo even got Zac to trim his beard. I grin as Will whispers some of his sweet nothings into Maddie’s ear. It’s good to see my brother smitten, and I really get along with Maddie. She’s an old soul with a bite. I’ve always appreciated a little sass.

  “I think they’re telling us to get inside,” Olive says, taking hold of Rafe’s hand.

  Dot and Sawyer are going small, and I think it’s perfect for them. After all it took to get these two here, I probably wouldn’t want to waste time either. Not even two months ago Sawyer popped the question, and now here we are. I don’t think any of us expected a huge wedding after they admitted their first plans were to elope. We’re all just glad they had a guest list this time around.

  Maybe it’s the petty side of me, but I’m surprised Dot’s folks are attending after the shenanigans they pulled trying to split them up in the first place. They’re tucked back with Millie Whitfield and my folks. Quiet, polite. As they should be. This is Sawyer’s and Dot’s day, and we don’t need to be reminded of their snobbery.

  Sawyer’s family is more rambunctious and I think I’d rather sit with them. Sawyer’s parents and grandparents keep laughing with the officiator. His oldest brother has three pre-teen boys who keep laughing as Kyler mutters things under his breath to them. Evie is in on the mix with a big fat ring on her hand. They’ll b
e taking a little more time for another Lanford wedding, but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen the woman smile so much. They’re mighty cute.

  Everyone is getting married and falling in love, except me.

  How would a love life be possible when I have a boss who doesn’t believe in a social life? Don’t get me wrong, I made the right choice by sticking with the split off and working on my own outside my family’s businesses. I love my job, but I do like to breathe a little. I like to binge watch TV and eat popcorn like it’s going out of style.

  Maybe it’s an Irish thing.

  Mr. Colm Murray must not have family or friends in Lisdoonvarna. What a strange name, but I made sure I memorized it—truth be told, I’m the only one at work who has. By now, I’d anticipated a few bonus points Colm has yet to dish up. I don’t know anything about Colm outside of his professional persona. Only that he’s somewhere just over thirty, stern, has a deliciously hot accent (I refuse to admit to anyone), and believes people should work until they kick the bucket.

  Maybe he doesn’t like that I’m a woman?

  No, I haven’t really gotten the chauvinistic vibe from Colm. More rigid—as if he doesn’t have the ability to understand why anyone wouldn’t want to work as hard as he does.

  “Jace,” Lily says, and smacks my arm. “Come sit down. They’re starting.”

  Wow. I really need a vacation. Even my complaining about work is starting to take over my thoughts.

  Once I’m sitting, I push thoughts of work, of blueprints, of algorithms, of the handsome face and voice of Colm Murray away, and focus on the perfection of the day. Dot and Sawyer didn’t mess around with bridesmaids or groomsmen. They insisted they wanted a quick ceremony and to get straight to the party and life of being married.

  Watching them say simple, heart-stopping vows, I have to agree with their choice. Dot is beautiful in a simple white dress, and Sawyer in a nice suit. My eyes are fuzzy with tears when Sawyer kisses the woman like it’ll be the end of him if he doesn’t. I suppose that’s the sort of inappropriate-for-church kiss you get when you almost lose the love of your life, then get a second chance.