Burn for You (Slow Burn Book 1)(109)

“Bianca,” I said, my voice raw. “What’re you doing here?”

She turned to me with burning eyes and a heaving chest, the color high in her cheeks. She shouted, “I’m here to stop the man I love from marrying the wrong woman!”

Taylor’s mouth dropped open.

Rayford giggled.

And my heart stopped dead in my chest.

I wheezed, “Love?” before Bianca cut me off.

“Yes, that’s right. I love you, Jackson Boudreaux!”

It sounded like an accusation or a confession of something terrible and terminal, like you’d say, “The tumor is inoperable and I only have a week to live.”

But she kept talking, and my heart rebooted and took flight like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner, but I think I’m just about as stubborn as you are. You’re the best man I’ve ever known, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let you hitch your wagon to some cash-hungry bottom-feeder just to save your inheritance!”

She gestured to Taylor, who cried an offended, “Oh!”

I exhaled, and it was like fire.

Bianca stepped toward me. She squared her shoulders and looked up into my face.

She said, “My whole life I’ve been waiting for someone like you. Only I didn’t know that someone would come with a caveman beard and a bossy streak and a scowl that could peel paint from the walls. And then you came at me with your ridiculous proposal, and then Mama died, and then I lost my mind, so it took me a minute to figure it out.”

She swallowed. When she spoke next her voice was quieter.

“But I love you, Jackson. And I hope you know that I don’t give a damn about your money, because I don’t. In fact I think it would do you a world of good to flush that inheritance right down the toilet and live like a normal person for once.”

She added drily, “I’ve recently been informed by my attorney that I’m a millionaire, anyway, so it’s not like we’d be broke.”

Taylor huffed. “Mr. Boudreaux, will you please tell this woman—”

“Shut up, Taylor,” I said.

She threw her hands in the air and rolled her eyes.

Bianca took another step closer to me, then another, until she was so close I could see the flecks of gold in her beautiful brown eyes. She flattened her hands over my chest.

I thought my heart would explode it pounded so hard.

Bianca said softly, “We went about this whole thing ass backward. Marriage proposals are supposed to come after you’ve fallen in love, not before, but I have a feeling nothing we’re ever going to do will be in the proper order. So what I’m proposing is that you tell this skinny little mercenary with the weird brown lips to go pound sand, and you and me get married.”

Her lips curved into a shy smile. “Because I would like to date you.”

I took her sweet face in my hands. She slid her arms around my waist and hugged me, and I wondered if it was possible for a person to die of happiness. I felt like I might float right off the floor.

I whispered, “That skinny little mercenary is my attorney, sweetheart.”

Bianca blinked. Her brows pulled together into an adorable frown. “What?”

A rumble of laughter burbled up from somewhere deep inside me, shaking my whole body, loosening decades of anguish and pain.

“Taylor is my attorney. Has been for years. We’re not getting married. We’re working on the contract for the new division Boudreaux Bourbon’s going to open in New Orleans. The one I’m going to run.”

Bianca’s eyes went wide. She squeaked, “Contract? Division?”

I nodded. “My father and I had a long talk after you and I left Kentucky. We agreed that opening a new distillery in Louisiana would be good for business. There’s no wedding going on here.”

Bianca’s gaze turned to the paperwork on my desk, then to Taylor. She paled. Then she whispered, “Oh, shit.”

From the sofa, Rayford cackled and clapped his hands.

Bianca whirled around and glared at him. “Rayford! You did that on purpose!”

He shrugged. “Sometimes you gotta give the blind a helping hand.”

Bianca turned to Taylor. She put her hand over her chest and said, “I am so, so sorry. Oh my goodness. I take back what I said. You’re not a mercenary. I’m sure you’re a wonderful woman. You look very . . . smart. And you’re not skinny, that was just me being jealous. You have a lovely figure.”

Taylor crossed her arms over her chest. “And the brown lipstick?”

Bianca grimaced. “Well . . .”

“Enough apologies. Come here.”

I grabbed Bianca by the arm and kissed her. She took big handfuls of my shirt and kissed me back like she was starving.