pocket. “Don’t try to show me some Photoshopped version of yourself.”
“What do you know about Photoshopping?” he asked.
A little too much these days, Waverly thought to herself.
“I say we make a wager of this,” Dominic began. “If I can prove you wrong, you have to do something with me.”
Considering what they almost did, sure. Waverly grinned. “Deal.”
“Don’t go back on a promise, now.”
Waverly rolled her eyes and held out her hand. “Man, if you don’t show me this picture...”
Playfully Dominic held the phone in the air and out of her reach. Now would be the great time for her to come up with her part in the wager when Dominic failed to provide the photograph. Wasn’t he the prize, though? Waverly licked her lips in anticipation.
“Bam,” Dominic said after his thumb stopped scrolling across the screen. He shoved the phone close to her face.
Waverly took a step backward to adjust what she saw. There, surrounded by a set of twin preteen boys flexing their nonexistent muscles and a young girl, draped in an oversize green graduation gown, was a young Dominic. His hair was cut in a high top fade, too high for his graduation cap, which he held in one hand. He wore a pair of jeans with holes at the knees and a muscle shirt. Dark tattoos covered his biceps. Considering how buff he was now compared to then, Waverly had to concede.
“This is your high school graduation. How old do you have to be to get a tattoo?”
“Sixteen with your parents’ approval. My mom came with me,” Dominic said. “Ever been around someone with tattoos?”
Waverly sighed. “My first serious boyfriend had them. But since he was older, I assumed.”
“Okay,” Dominic said, blowing out a sigh in the universal manner of changing the subject. “I’ve proven you wrong and now it’s time to pay up.”
Excitement flashed within her. A date? The movies? “Sure,” Waverly replied in an even-keeled tone.
Dominic extracted something from the back pocket of his jeans. A folded envelope.
“While I was gone, I got this thing. My sister thinks I need it to fit in with the community better.”
“What thing?”
“The Miss Southwood Pageant. Have you heard of it?”
Dread loomed over her. Waverly nodded. “I have.”
“Plan on entering?”
The combs of her tiara dug into her scalp as she shook her head. “No. I haven’t been in Southwood long enough to have a sponsor.”
“Well, that’s what I’m saying. I need a beauty queen, and you look like you’d be good at it. You even come with your own crown and everything.”
* * *
Tuesday morning Dominic woke with a slight hangover, but given what he accomplished last night, he didn’t care. He secured himself a beauty queen and managed to pass himself off as a gentleman by not ripping off Waverly’s clothes and carrying her to the bedroom. She was so damn irresistible when she tried to back out of the pageant. He saved himself from eating Alisha’s idea of a pizza and still got back to his sister’s condo in time to feed Hamilton his carrots seconds before Alisha stumbled through the front door at one in the morning. He was in such a good mood, he didn’t care if Alisha banged on the guest bedroom door where he slept every time he came over there. The chain dangling from the ceiling fan rattled with each pound of her fist.
“I know you’re up.” Alisha rattled the door. “You’re not snoring.”
Damn, with everything he completed before going to bed, Dominic forgot to lock the room. “I don’t...” Before he got the words out, Alisha poked her head inside. “Alisha, I could have been naked.”
“You better not be naked in my house.” Alisha stepped forward and cringed. “Gross.”
“What do you want?” Dominic pulled himself up onto his elbows. Hamilton oinked at Alisha’s feet. Today he wore a rainbow tutu.
“Is there anything you want to tell me?” she asked.
“No.” Did she figure out he didn’t eat her pizza or was barely over here last night?
“Are you sure?”
“Just tell me what’s going on, Alisha,” Dominic growled. Hamilton, protective of his mother, oinked at him. Would it be wrong of him to eat a slice of bacon in front of the pig?
Alisha crossed her arms and kicked the edge of the bed. “You have a visitor.”
“Waverly?”
“Who?” Alisha’s upper lip curled. “Jesus, you’re back one day and you’ve got women coming out of the woodwork for you. This one is married, though.”
“Lexi,” Dominic said with a nod.
“Why is the pageant producer in my living room with a butt load of dresses? Have you decided you’re going to change up your wardrobe?” Alisha rambled on while Dominic grabbed his jeans he’d hung over the chair last night and went into the bathroom to change. She was still rattling on about dresses, so like any good big brother, Dominic patted her on the head and headed out of the bedroom and down the hall to greet Lexi Pendergrass Reyes.
Racks of ball gowns filled the living room, covering the messy pigsty Alisha lived in. The front door opened and closed while two men dressed in white smocks rolled in more racks of clothing. Hamilton’s feet scrambled down the hall and out the door. Alisha quickly followed but not before shooting an angry glare at her brother. Somewhere in the mix, Lexi’s blond head bobbed around. He heard her voice and another woman’s as well, but couldn’t see who the second person was.
“Good morning?” Dominic said to announce his presence. Lights spilled in from the opened curtains. The doors to the balcony were closed but the clear skies were welcome.
“Dominic,” Lexi exclaimed.
Dominic made his way through a row of dresses in every shade of yellow. “What’s all this?”
“These—” Lexi waved her arm over the racks “—are all dresses in Waverly’s size that are not mine.”
Everyone in town, male or female, understood the place to buy a dress was at Grits and Glam Gowns. For Alisha, the boutique was one of the bonuses of agreeing to move to Southwood. Lexi made one-of-a-kind dresses for proms, weddings and, most famously, pageants.
“Why wouldn’t she get any of your dresses?”
“Conflict of interest,” Lexi’s assistant answered.
“Sorry, let me make the introductions,” said Lexi. “Dominic, this is Kenzie Swayne. She’s my right-hand woman for the pageant.”
Kenzie, all of five-three, stepped forward and extended her hand for a firm shake. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Crowne. I’ve been meaning to stop by your garage. You realize it was once the city jail?”
“I did not,” said Dominic. He flexed his hand to revive the circulation. “You’ll have to tell me about it.”
“Just not today,” said Lexi. “I have a limited amount of time.”
Dominic glanced down at Lexi’s protruding pregnant belly. “How far along are you?”
“Seven months,” Lexi said with a shake of her blond head. “But that’s not why there’s no time. I’ve got to turn the reins over to Kenzie.”
“Because of Waverly?”
“Exactly,” Lexi and Kenzie chorused.
Scratching the back of his head, Dominic sighed. “I don’t