Page 46 of The Reason I Married Him
“It looks like you’re trying to piss me off.”
Can’t get anything past her.
“Why on earth would I want to piss off my future bride?”
I swear, hand to heart, I see steam come out of her ears as she says, “Don’tcall me that.”
I haven’t seen Aubree in a violent state, so she might be all bark and no bite. Even with that knowledge tucked away, seeing her snarl at me doesn’t stop my testicles from shivering with fear. They’re knocking together in horror.
“Is it not true?” I ask her.
“It’s not. I didn’t accept your ridiculous proposal.”
“Was it because I didn’t get down on one knee? Because I can.”
I start to kneel, but she swats at me. “Get up. Good God, you’re ridiculous.”
“So it wasn’t the knee thing. Well, if it comes down to jewelry, I can get you the ring of your dreams or something very modest. Maybe a promise necklace . . .” When her face sours, I add, “Or perhaps a promise key chain.”
“It wasn’t the proposal. It’s you. You’re the problem. Your personality. Your idea of being married. That’s why I said no.”
“Hmm, seems a bit harsh,” I say. “Maybe if you got to know me better, you’d say yes.”
“I’m not saying yes. I don’t want to get married. I don’t want to be tied to anyone. And I especially don’t want to get married to you, because that means you’ll stick around here. The last thing I want is you walking around the farm with stakes and a freaking landscaping wheel.”
“Shame. I’d be a good husband.” I turn away from her and keep walking out toward the field.Although, if you ask Cadance, I wouldn’t have been that.
“Where are you going?” she asks while trailing after me.
“To the fields.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Given that you’re not my wife or bride-to-be, I don’t think I have to answer that question.”
She rushes in front of me and says, “Given that I’m part owner of this farm, I have the right to know.”
“Not when it’s my piece of land.”
Let the poking begin.
“Do not go out there and start messing things up,” she says.
“Why would I mess things up? It’s not like I’m going to destroy your business out of spite because you rejected my proposal of marriage.” I grin at her, and her eyes fall flat with fury.
“Wyatt Preston, I suggest?—”
“Wyatt Joseph Preston, in case you wanted to use my middle name in your tirade.”
Her lips purse.
Her eyes narrow even farther.
And her hands twitch at her side.
“Wyatt Joseph Preston”—ahh, she used my full name—“I suggest you tell me what you’re going to do, or I’m going to attach myself to you.”
“Perfect, that’s just what I want. Maybe you’ll get used to me then.”
