To Save Sir (Doms of Decadence 7)

“Guess I have to go back to bed now, huh?” she asked as they drew closer to the house.

“Maybe not yet.”

He came to a stop, and she turned to see her parents coming closer. Her aunt and uncle, Amelia’s parents, were with them. Her momma was frowning, and her daddy looked concerned.

“Did you really put a frog in Amelia’s handbag?”

“Are you gonna tell?” She peered up at him through her bangs.

His lips twitched. “Little troublemaker.”

“What are you doing out here, Jenna?” Daddy asked.

“She came to find me, sir,” Curt answered respectfully.

“I’m so sorry she bothered you, Curt,” Momma said.

“No bother. I wondered if she could stay up for the announcement.”

“Sure, I guess.” Momma smiled at Curt. Then her smile widened as Amelia joined them.

“Is it time yet?” Amelia asked.

Daddy smiled too. Then he walked over to where the band had set up. He waited until the song ended then grabbed the microphone.

“Are you going to put her down, Curt?” Amelia asked, glaring at her.

“She’s all right.” Curt put his arm around Amelia as her daddy started talking. He introduced Uncle Justin who stepped forward and took hold of the microphone. Was Uncle Justin going to sing? Jenna winced. He was a really bad singer. But, no, he just talked.

“. . . and so, I invite you all to raise your glass as a toast to the happy couple. Amelia and Curt. May their lives be filled with happiness, health, and wealth.”

“Amelia and Curt!”

Everyone cheered then came up to congratulate her cousin and Curt. But she didn’t understand why. When there was a quiet moment, she pulled his face towards hers.

“Curt?”

“Yeah, little bit?”

“Why is everyone so happy for you? Did you win something?”

“I sure did.”

“Is it ice cream?”

He chuckled. “Even better. Your cousin and I are getting married.”

She should have used the snake.

Six years later . . .

She stared across the casket at him. The wind whistled around them, the sky dark and foreboding. It was a suitable atmosphere for a burial. A sea of black surrounded her. All of the mourners who’d gathered around the grave looked up at the sky then back to the coffin worriedly.

But she just watched Curt.

He looked terrible. She guessed that was pretty typical when your wife had just died. He’d changed over the years. She remembered him with the fondness of a child who’d thought of him as her hero. But back then, he’d been softer, gentler. Now there was a harshness to him. His face was more lined, his eyes colder, his body thick with the muscle he’d lacked in his younger years. And he was more gorgeous than ever.

She’d had a crush on him since she was three. He’d always been her hero. Not that he looked like a hero now. He looked dark and dangerous. And her eleven-year-old heart beat a little faster. Immediately, she felt guilty. How could she be thinking this way when they were just about to bury her cousin—his wife.