Page 33 of On the Double

“It’s fine for you,” I muttered. “Excuse me if I don’t want to hand over my ass to a woman.” I turned a glare on him. “Or take three bullets to the chest for love.”

“Worth every second of pain,” he grinned. Then he pulled out an envelope from his pocket, handing it over to me. “You’ll see at the wedding.”

I stared at the white envelope in shock. He was getting married? “Why?”

“Why will you see? Well, when two people really love each other and choose to devote themselves to each other?—”

“No, I mean, why would you get married? It hasn’t even been that long. Look at what happened to Rafe!”

“You think I shouldn’t get married because Rafe is dead?”

“No, I mean, look at what marriage did to Libby. She’s a fucking wreck.”

He nodded slowly, staring at me like I was crazy. “Yes, becauseRafe is a fucking douche who lied to her and didn’t tell her his dastardly plans.” Then he added. “May he rest in peace.”

“And you really think it’ll be any different for you? There has to be something you’re hiding from Wren.”

His brows furrowed as he thought about it. “You know, you’re right.”

“See?”

“I didn’t tell her that I prefer Wheaties to her soufflé for breakfast. I should probably tell her that so she can stop making a mess of the kitchen.”

I rolled my eyes at his comment. “Seriously, this will end badly.” I grabbed the invitation from him, shaking it in his face. “All marriages are doomed to fail.”

“Not all,” Scottie said. “It’s actually something like forty to fifty percent. Worse if it’s the second marriage, but luckily, the only person here who’s been divorced is Nicholas. And he’s not married yet. Fingers crossed for him,” Scottie grinned.

“The point is, you’re setting yourself up for failure. Why not wait a little longer and see how things go?”

Brock nodded at me. “Right. I could totally tell her that.Wren, I love you, but I want to see how things go for the next few years. You know, in case I decide I no longer like you and want a divorce.Yeah, I can see that going well.”

None of them got it. Not a single man around here—or woman, for that matter—understood just how stupid it was to tie yourself to a single person. That’s why I never dated. All women thought that if they went on one date, it would turn into two, and then three. And soon, wedding bells were playing in their minds, wedding magazines appeared on the coffee tables, and questions about the perfect date were the topic of conversation.

Well, that wasn’t going to happen to me. The day I let a woman have that much power over me would be the day I decided to turn in my gun and badge—Metaphorically speaking. I didn’t actually have a badge.— and become a rockstar. And that wasn’t very likely to happen. I already knew that.

“You’re so cynical,” Brock said, not an ounce of teasing in his voice. “You know, I feel bad for you. I didn’t realize how much you were against relationships until now. You’re going to end up alone, my friend.”

“That’s sort of the point.”

“And while the rest of us are watching our fires flare to life and become wildfires, you’re going to be staring at your twigs—unlit and wet,” Scottie shook his head.

“Unlit and wet?”

“Because you have no flames going,” he reiterated. “You know, it’s like your twigs won’t light because you peed on them or something.”

“Why wouldn’t they just be wet because it rained?”

He growled in frustration. “It was a metaphor.”

“Yeah, your metaphors are fucking creepy,” I said, slapping him on the back as I shoved past him. “Sorry, but I don’t need a forest fire, or whatever the hell you think you have going with Quinn. Where is she, anyway?”

“She’s on a job in Yellowstone,” he bit out.

“And you’re okay with that,” I jeered. “Watching her leave to pursue her job while you stay home. Isn’t she pregnant?”

“What’s your problem?” he ground out. “Because you don’t want to be happy, you have to try and make everyone else miserable?”

It was the first time I’d seen Scottie truly angry, and I thought for just a minute that I’d pushed too far.

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