Page 178 of The Reason I Married Him

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“Baby, you could do a lot worse than me,” I say, right before I lean forward, cup her chin, and place a short but sweet kiss on her lips just because I want to remind her exactly what I’m capable of.

When I pull away, her eyes almost look dazed as they peer open to me.

“Now, let’s get in there before they eat all the fine cheese we picked out,” I say as I stand from the bench.

And just to test the waters, I hold my hand out to her to take.

She looks up at me for a moment, stands . . . and then takes my hand.

I hold my breath, not wanting to scare her away, because Jesus Christ, she’s holding my hand.

Everyone, stay calm.

I SAID, STAY CALM!

Chapter Seventeen

AUBREE

“Our wedding is going to be so dreamy,” Wyatt says as he flops on the bed when we return to the guest house.

“Why are you like this?” I ask as I take my shoes off and sit on the bed.

To my surprise, he tugs on my shoulder, forcing me to lie down next to him. He props himself up on his elbow to look down at me.

“Tell me it wouldn’t be as fun if I were normal.”

“It would be a lot easier,” I answer.

“But not as fun.” He rests his hand on my stomach.

“Are you trying to prove a point?”

“Yes,” he says, his hand moving to the waistband of my shorts and the hem of my shirt. What does he think he’s doing? “That even though you might not have asked for this intrusion in your life, you’re beyond grateful for it because I’ve added color to your world. Loads and loads of color.”

“You’re obnoxious.”

“Another way to describe fun. I’ll take it.” His fingers dance over a small patch of exposed skin.

I look down at his hand and back up at him. “What do you think you’re doing with that hand?”

“Nothing,” he says.

“Uh, it seems like you’re doing something.”

“And what would that seem like?” he asks.

“Like you’re trying to slip it under my shirt.”

“Ew, why would I want to do that?”

The way he said ew was unexpected and actually makes me laugh out loud.

“Gross. I don’t want to touch you,” he continues.

“Then you better stop,” I say.

“Can’t, my hand is stuck.”

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