Page 216 of The Reason I Married Him
“Good, and hey, now that you’re married and taking ownership of the cabin, does that mean you’ll be up here more often?”
“I hope so,” he says.
“Well, I’ll warn Jazz. You know she gets excited when you’re around, loves talking all things stabby.”
Wyatt turns to me and says, “Jazz is Fallon’s best friend, and she likes to think that she’s not eccentric like the rest of the town, but she might be the most eccentric besides the cat that’s the mayor.”
“Uh, that would be Beefinator, the grandchild of Beefy Boofcheck, the Saint Bernard.”
“Wait,” Wyatt says, looking truly concerned, more concerned than over the mention of that Cadance chick I’m still reeling over. “What happened to Miss Daphne Lynn Pearlbottom and her glittery fascinators?”
“Kicked to the curb,” Fallon says. “Pearlbottom had no chance at reelection when Beefy’s kin stepped in.”
“Such a shame,” Wyatt says. “Makes me think if I’m spending more time here, I need to pay closer attention.”
“You do, especially in the mayoral politics. There is a small cult of Pearlbottom lovers who are ready to try to take over and win her back her spot.”
“The drama,” Wyatt says, “I love it.”
Fallon smirks. “Well, I’ll let you two go eat something. Stop by the cabins. I’d love to show you the renovations, and you can meet Joannie, my baby girl.”
Wyatt’s face softens. “You had a baby girl?” he asks.
Fallon smiles widely. “Yes, and she’s perfect.”
“Congratulations, Fallon. I’m really happy for you. I’ll stop by for sure.” Wyatt leans in and gives her another hug. “Good seeing you, Fallon.”
“You too.” She waves at me. “Nice meeting you, Aubree.”
“Nice meeting you,” I reply as Wyatt opens the door to the diner and guides me in by placing his hand on the small of my back.
We enter what I can only describe as a troll haven, but my mind is still yellingwho the hell is Cadance?
From floor to ceiling, narrow shelves line the walls, displaying thousands of trolls, ranging from naked with bejeweled bellies to fully dressed. Tall. Short. A variation of hair colors combined with vibrant—yet dulled—clothing themed to the nineties trends. There are signs and license plates, and every paraphernalia an ardent collector would have in their arsenal, and this diner didn’t cheap out on any of them.
“It’s something else, isn’t it?” Wyatt says, mirth in his voice.
“It really is,” I say as he brings us over to a booth up against one of the walls. He sits across from me and nods toward the napkin dispenser covered in troll stickers. Really, nothing has gone untouched in the decorating of this diner.
And maybe if I wasn’t at war in my head over this Cadance mention, I’d find it quite comical, but I can’t seem to muster up the strength to push that aside and enjoy the moment with Wyatt.
And he must notice because he asks, “Hey, are you okay?”
I wet my lips and twist my hands in my lap as I look up at him. “Yeah, sort of. Just a little confused.”
“About the trolls?” he asks. “I know, I think we all are.”
“No,” I say. “Not about the trolls, about what Fallon said.”
His brow turns down. “What did she say that confused you?”
“She thought I was some woman named Cadance.” I look him in the eyes. “You’ve never mentioned her.”
“Oh,” he says while he pulls menus from behind the napkin dispenser and hands one to me. “She’s just an ex. Didn’t think she was worth mentioning.”
“Were you guys serious?” I ask.
He pulls his gaze from the menu and makes eye contact. “Does it matter?” he asks in an easy tone. Not mad, just curious.
