The Road That Leads to Us (Us 1)

Dean fingered a necklace on one of the displays while I tried on a few rings.

I picked out three rings and a simple bracelet with a delicate inset triangle and handed them to the woman. “I’d like these please.”

She grabbed a purple box and set the rings inside and then the bracelet inside a blue box. She rang me up and I handed her cash before taking the small bag she’d tucked them in.

I started to walk away, but I noticed Dean wasn’t following me, so I quickly turned around to find him handing the woman some cash and he now held his own bag.

“What’s that?” I asked, narrowing my eyes on the bag.

“Something for you.” He grinned, clearly pleased with whatever he’d found.

“For me?” I reached for the bag greedily. “Lemme see.”

“I don’t know.” He hedged with a shrug. “Maybe I should save it for Christmas.”

“Dean Wentworth,” I gasped. “That’s cruel.”

He chuckled and handed me the bag. “I hope you like it.” He smiled shyly.

I reached down and plucked out the small pink box. Lifting the lid off I inhaled a surprised breath and slapped a hand over my mouth.

“Dean, this is…this is perfect.” Tears pricked my eyes and I felt stupid for getting emotional over a necklace, but it was perfect. I was pretty sure it had been made for me.

It was simple and girly, with a thin silver chain and a tiny silver lollipop charm hanging on the end.

“I can’t believe this.” I took the necklace out of the box, admiring it up close. I stuffed the now empty box back in the bag and handed the necklace to Dean. “Put it on me, please.”

I turned around and pulled my hair over my shoulder.

Dean slipped the necklace around my neck and fumbled with the clasp.

“Shit, I think I cut myself.” He cursed and let go, sucking his thumb into his mouth.

“Don’t be a baby,” I admonished. “It’s just a necklace.’

“’Just a necklace.’” He mimicked. “I think you mean devil rope.”

I snorted. Only Dean would call it that.

He tried again and managed to secure it this time.

“I don’t know why you girls wear jewelry if you have to go through that to get it on. It’s practically torture.” He waved his hands dramatically through the air as he spoke.

“We think pretty things are worth it,” I reasoned.

He shook his head. “Y’all are crazy.”

We headed deeper into the festival and my eye caught a stand selling cotton candy.

Sugar rush? Much needed.

I ran forward and Dean lengthened his stride to keep up.

“Are you sure you need that?” He asked, looking a bit fearful.

“Yes,” I answered without a second of thought.

“You’re going to rot all your teeth by the time we get home and then your dad will have yet another reason to kill me,” he mumbled under his breath.