Page 59 of The Reason I Married Him
While he continues to bang away on the roof, I finish the paint touch-ups.
Because it’s so hot, the paint dries quickly, making the project easy but also miserable at the same time. All we have to do is install the flower boxes, and we’re ready for the chickens. Not that I care to admit it, but I don’t think we would have gotten this done as fast as we did if Wyatt hadn’t helped me. Because Parson, his men, and Echo are busy with their daily tasks. Esther and Aggie are doing their own thing, and then I pick up projects around the farm as well as take care of the business, so this wasone of those projects I wanted to do but just didn’t get to it . . . until Wyatt put his hands on it.
“Fucking fuck, it’s hot,” Wyatt says from the roof. “Aubree, I know you want me to shrivel up and die under the sun while I’m up here, but can you please hand me my water?”
The temptation to let him shrivel up is heavy, but I also need to give credit where credit is due. He helped me with this project, so I should give him some water as a thank-you.
I set my roller down and walk over to where his water bottle rests in the shade of the barn. Just as I bring it out to the chicken coop, a piece of fabric plops on the ground. Confused, I look up to find Wyatt standing on the roof, shirtless and glistening under the bright sun.
Mother of God.
For someone who writes books all day long, the man sure does have a body.
And we’re talking an incredibly fit, toned body.
I mean . . . who truly has abs like that? Two well-defined rows, divided down the middle and horizontally, meeting up with a delicious deep V at his hips.
And now that he’s removed his shirt, there’s a reason his pants barely hang on to his narrow waist. An enticing dark patch of hair leads from his belly button to the waistband of his briefs. Call me sun sick, but it fascinates me . . . makes my mouth water, makes me wonder what is just below the zipper.
“Uh, my water,” Wyatt says as my eyes lift to his chest where they focus on his thick, flat pecs that expand all the way out to his shoulders, defining him in a way that I’m not privileged to see when he’s wearing clothes. “Can you hand it to me, Aubree?”
“What? Oh yes,” I say as I lift on my toes to hand it to him. But I’m not tall enough, so to my surprise, he hops off the roof, landing right in front of me with an earth-shaking plop.
Dear God, that was . . . umm . . . well, some might say hot, but I’m not going to say that. I’m just going to keep my mouth shut.
“Here,” I say, handing him his water.
He slides his fingers over mine, and in a husky tone, he says, “Thanks, wife.”
I steal my hand away and take a step back as a smile crosses his face.
Annoyed with his arrogance once again, I say, “Why did you need me to get your drink if you were going to hop off the roof anyway?”
“Last-minute choice,” he says. “Thought you might want a closer look since you can’t seem to stop staring.”
“Oh, get over yourself. I was not staring.” Oh God, he caught me staring. My cheeks flame with embarrassment.
“Uh . . . you were, this was you.” He tilts his head, parts his mouth, and stares at my chest.
I attempt to push him away, but he captures my wrist and holds me close, his sweaty skin inches from mine.
“I’m totally open to you checking out what I have to offer, but just let me know next time so I can flex for you.”
I straighten my back and look him dead in the eyes. “You, Wyatt, are an idiot.”
He chuckles and releases my wrist. “Denial looks pretty good on you, Aubree.”
God, he’s insufferable. Just when I was starting to think that it was nice to have him help me with the chicken coop, he changes my mind.
“Since it’s noon, do you want to grab something to eat?” he asks.
“No, I’m good.”
“Come on,” he says. “I know you’re hungry. I can see it in your withering eyes. My treat. I can take you to The Hot Pickle, or we can grab some pizza . . .”
“This is just you trying to get me to go out with you,” I say.
He shakes his head. “This is me trying to get food in my stomach so I don’t turn into a raving man beast with fangs, looking for his next meal. Which could very much be you.” He nods toward his SUV. “Come on.”
