Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“It’s not a prank,” he admitted. “It’s real, like I said.”
I turned to study him. If he was as close to this sister as he’d claimed, why the hell wasn’t he confessing the truth to her?
Sheridan’s expression softened. “Why didn’t you say something, Way? I would have understood.”
“Can we… not talk about this here, please?” he asked in a low voice. “I kinda feel like we’re in Aunt Blake’s special fishbowl.”
She turned to wink at me. “He’s not wrong. How’bout this—why don’t I bring you guys dinner tonight?”
Way looked horrified. “You can’t! Silas… Silas has to get back to… uh, the East Coast. He’s got work. Important, crucial, critical work.” He sent an encouraging look in my direction, as if he hoped I’d go along with his ruse.
But I didn’t feel like going along with much of anything anymore. I was tired of him calling all the shots.
I reached over and took his hand in mine. It was a little clammy, but at least he didn’t yank it away from me. “Not right away, baby. I blocked this time off special just for you.”
Way stared at me, his ears so red they looked like they were in danger of igniting. His hand tightened around mine. “But… baby… you have the strategic… consulting… corporate thing. Remember? Your business comes first.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. The man had clearly looked me up on LinkedIn, where my bio described my work as a strategic consultant for Fortune 500 companies. I wondered if he even knew what that meant. “Never, sweetheart. Nothing could be more important than my for real marriage to you. Nothing, not even my crucial, critical, strategic consulting corporate thing.”
He glared at me. “I guess we’ll talk about this later. Sheridan, can you get us some chicken wraps, please?”
I smiled up at her. “And I’d love a lemonade if you don’t mind.”
“No problem,” she said, still looking unsure but giving me a smile anyway.
After she headed toward the kitchen, Way leaned forward and hissed, “What the hell are you doing?”
I lifted our joined hands up and dropped a soft kiss on each of his knuckles in painfully slow progression. Soft puffs of air sped up as they escaped his nostrils. “Loving on my groom, Mayor. You can’t expect me to sit here and act like we’re practical strangers when you’ve finally claimed me in front of the entire town.”
He made a choking noise in this throat as I snuck my tongue out on the final kiss to his knuckles. For a straight man, this guy was incredibly reactive to me. It made me want to stick around and try more than kissing.
“Please,” he said in a nearly silent whisper. “Just… please go along for now, okay?”
I pinned him with a look. “Waylon, darling, I believe that’s what I’ve been doing. You seem to be sending me mixed messages about what you want, though.”
Pink flags of embarrassment streaked from his golden cheeks down to his neck and into the collar of his shirt. I wanted to unbutton it to see if his chest and abs were mottled, too.
Memories of his bare chest and stomach flashed through my mind, and I remembered the warmth of his skin on my fingertips. I closed my eyes to imprint the images so I could take them home with me later.
Sheridan returned to the table with my lemonade and plunked down two sets of napkin-rolled silverware. “You want fries, chips, or fruit with those wraps?” Her focus was on me. Presumably, she’d already decided which one her brother wanted.
“Fruit, please. Thanks.” I carefully unwrapped the straw and smoothed the wrapper.
She turned around and disappeared.
Way sighed and pulled his hand from mine to take a sip of his water. “She’s mad I didn’t tell her first.”
“Wouldn’t you be? Hell, my sister would kick my ass if she found out about my marriage this way.”
Way lifted an eyebrow at me. “Oh? And did you actually tell Camille about this?”
I was stunned that he remembered my sister’s name. I couldn’t have mentioned it more than once Saturday night. “N-no. Of course not. Why would—”
Way’s amusement turned to a belly laugh as my own hypocrisy became obvious. I kicked his boot under the table. “Asshole,” I muttered before taking a sip of lemonade. It was sweet and tart, which was exactly what I needed after the multiple cups of coffee I’d had on the drive from Billings.
A man my age wandered over and clapped Way on the shoulder. “Congrats on your marriage. No wonder you and Eden didn’t work out. But you should have told us. We would have been cool with it.” He seemed kind of hurt.
“I’m not gay,” Way blurted before realizing he’d stepped in it. “Bi… maybe? I don’t know.” He stretched his neck and sat up straighter. “I didn’t know, either, okay? Not really. Not till… not till Silas anyway.”