Page 103 of The Reason I Married Him
“Why would I give you the details of my sex life?”
“Like I said,” she answers, exasperated. “Sisters share those kinds of things.”
“Well, I don’t think we’re that kind of sisters.”
“We should be,” she says as I loop around the house only to find Wyatt standing on the front porch of the guest house with a suitcase next to him.
Oh God, what does he think he’s doing now?
“Ooooo,” Hattie nearly screams in delight. “That’s a suitcase. Is he moving in? Oh my God, we have this entire conversation about hiding your sex, and you didn’t tell me that he’s moving in? We’ll have to tell Mac all about knocking on doors, and if she hears a whimpering animal, it’s just her aunt Aubree having fun.”
“My God, Hattie,” I say as I put the truck in park. “What is wrong with you?”
She chuckles. “I just love this for you.” She hops out of the car and waves to Wyatt. “We were just talking about you.”
I quickly get out of the car as well so I can potentially interrupt her if she says anything inappropriate to him.
“Is that so?” Wyatt asks while his eyes meet mine. “Good things?”
Hattie pats his shoulder. “Great things. And I know I don’t have to say this, but I think it’s necessary. Thank you, Wyatt, for fully satisfying my sister. I know she needed it.” And then she takes off toward the farmhouse as if she didn’t just light me on fire with embarrassment.
Smiling broadly, he asks, “What have you two been talking about?”
“Nothing you need to know,” I say, pointing at his suitcase. “What is that doing here?”
He spreads his arms wide and says, “Moving in, babe.”
I glance over at the farmhouse where Hattie watches us, hands clasped in front of her chest. Which means I have no other choice but to step forward into his arms and allow him to hug me.
And I do just that, but I keep my arms tucked in close.
Whispering, I say, “Why the hell are you moving in?”
He leans in close and whispers in my ear, “Better to get used to it now rather than later. Plus, I miss you, my snookums. I want to be around you all the time.”
“This makes me hate you.”
He chuckles and then turns us toward the guest house, letting us both in, along with his suitcase. When he shuts the door, I turn on him and say, “You’re not moving in here.”
“Like it or not, it’s going to happen, Aubree, so we might as well start it now. People are asking why I’m not staying here. I’d rather squelch any talk in case Wallace comes waltzing in, asking questions. Don’t worry, I don’t plan on jogging around the guest house, dick out. Everything will be tucked in tightly.”
“I’m not worried about your . . . flopping appendage.”
“You’re not?” he asks. “Well, in that case, I prefer to sleep naked.”
“Wyatt, can you be serious for one freaking second?” I ask.
“I can,” he answers.
“Then please be serious because this is . . . this is different for me. I’ve never done this before.”
“The marriage of convenience, I know,” he says. “Neither have I, but?—”
“I’m not talking about the marriage of convenience aspect. I mean living with a guy other than my brother. I don’t know how to navigate this situation.”
“Oh,” he says softly. “Well, if that’s the case, what do you want to know?”
“It’s not about knowledge of the situation. It’s about comfort and well, like . . . there are things I do at night.”
