Page 79 of The Reason I Married Him
“Huh, didn’t?—”
“Are you trying to present yourself as gentle and pure?”
How does one answer that question?
“You know,” she continues, “given your hard exterior.”
“Never really thought about it that way.”
She nods and rocks. “Must have slipped into your subconscious while you were picking out the scent that will grace your bosom tonight.”
Dear.
God.
“I just sprayed it in the air twice. I wasn’t pointing it at my bosom,” I say just as the screen door to the inn opens and Wyatt walks out.
He must have caught my last sentence because he greets me with a raised brow and a question in his expression.
“There he is,” Ethel coos as she stands and walks up to him. She straightens the collar of his polo shirt and pats his shoulders. “Looking handsome as ever.”
“Thank you,” he says. “This color is quite beautiful on you, Ethel.”
She waves her hand at him. “Oh, you flatter me too much.”
“Not flattery when it’s facts,” he says and then directs his attention toward me. “Wow, Aubree, you look beautiful.” Andthen, to my surprise, he leans in and presses a light kiss on my cheek.
It’s a peck.
Just a featherlight touch from his lips.
But for some reason, I can feel it all the way down to my toes.
When he pulls away, he smiles at me, and I know it’s my turn to say something about him. “I, uh . . . I like that your shorts don’t have pleats.”
His smile turns into a full-on grin just as Ethel scoffs next to us. “You’re talking about his non-pleated pants? Goodness, Aubree, look at the man’s chest and how his shirt is snug in all the right places, or the dark five o’clock shadow that accentuates his eyes, or the way his hair falls over his forehead deliciously. Focus on those things, not the pleats.”
I don’t want to focus on those things.
Focusing on them will make me more nervous because despite not wanting to admit it, Wyatt Preston is extremely attractive, has a soothing voice, and has turned out to be a very nice guy. I’d like not to focus on things that could change my opinion of him, which right now is just . . . regular.
Yup, a regular opinion.
If anyone even knows what that means.
“I’m sure she’ll tell me how devastatingly handsome I am without an audience.” Wyatt winks, and that seems to soothe Ethel.
She starts rocking again in her chair and says, “Well, you two have fun tonight. Treat her well, Wyatt. She’s been through a lot.”
“Don’t worry, I will,” he says as he places his hand on the small of my back and directs me down the stairs and to the boardwalk.
When we’re out of earshot, Wyatt says, “Do you want to hold my hand?”
“Uh . . . I don’t know,” I answer, keeping my hands clasped to my purse.
“You don’t have to,” he says. “But the offer is there if you want to take it for the show of everything.”
“Uh, thanks,” I say.
