Page 22 of Protecting Her Secrets

“And I’ll know if you’re lying, so don’t even try.”

“I’m not your wife. Not really.”

“Tell that to the certificate I have sitting in my safe.”

At that, she freezes. “You still have it?”

“Of course I do.” We stare at each other for a long moment before I break the tension and grab the DVD off the coffee table. “Want to watch a movie?”

“He’s Just Not That Into You? We loved that movie,” she says, looking over the jacket cover.

“No,youloved that movie.Iloved that you let me feel you up while you watched it.” Snagging the plastic clamshell from her, I open it and pop the disc into the player. When I turn back around, she’s blushing profusely at my confession. It’s fucking adorable, and I shrug. “Just being honest.”

“I should’ve figured that out after the third time you agreed to see it.”

“Want some popcorn?” I ask, needing a little space because knowing she’s now thinking about my hands on her more-than-a-handful tits has my cock twitching.

“Sure.”

I make quick work of pulling out a pan, a bag of kernels, butter, and a carton of oil. I have the microwave stuff in my pantry, but making it this way is much better. As the oil heats, I look up as she pulls the blanket off the back of the sofa and settles in to watch the movie. There were so many winter nights I wished for this exact situation, and here it is. Sure, her situation isn’t ideal, but I wasn’t kidding. If she wants me to sign those papers, she better convince me Klutch is the love of her life and she’d rather be with him than here with me.

Opening my cupboard, I reach for one large bowl versus two smaller ones so I have a reason to sit close to her. I don’t even feel guilty about it when I take my place on the sofa. She’s sitting sideways with her legs bent, and I’m surprised when she automatically tucks her toes under my thigh. Her eyes are glued to the screen, so it was probably unintentional, but the casualness of it all feels good.

I hand her the bowl and she nestles it in her lap without thought. This pleases me because now I have to rest my forearm on her knee whenever I grab a handful. I want to comment on how nice this is, but I worry it’ll bring too much attention to our close proximity, so I kick my feet up onto the coffee table and keep my trap shut.

Not even an hour into the movie, Sprocket is spread out next to me, Skylar’s legs are draped across my thighs, and I’m rubbing her sock-covered feet. I’m not even sure how or when it happened; I just know with one hundred percent certainty that I want this for the rest of my life. It feels right, like that final puzzle piece is in place at last.

I should’ve known I was waiting for Skylar. There were plenty of times I thought about going back to Bakersfield and trying to get her back, but I was scared that instead of convincing her to come with me, she’d demand I sign the divorce papers right then. I knew it’d be better to wait until she came to me.

As if reading my mind, Skylar breaks our easy silence and asks, “How come you aren’t in a relationship?”

“I haven’t found anyone worth keeping around.” I give her the easy answer, knowing she’s not ready for the revelation I just had.

“Why not? I’ll bet women throw themselves at your feet.”

“I’ve dated on and off, but nothing serious.” I shrug. “I think my bar is set too high.”

She shifts so she’s lying on her back but doesn’t take her legs off me. “What kind of woman are you looking for?”

Five foot nothing with long, curly blonde hair and green eyes, named Skylar.

“I don’t have a type. I just think I’ll know when I meet her. Just like I knew we’d be good together the second I laid eyes on you.”

“We were good together, huh?”

“The best.”

It’s quiet for a long while, both of us looking at the TV screen but neither of us watching. Our thoughts are too loud and that truth was too painful. I wish she’d open up to me, tell me why she’s marrying that asshole, why we can’t try to get back what we lost. I don’t doubt she’d piss off her family if she didn’t marrywithin the club, but if they really cared about her and wanted her to be happy, they’d get over it.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I never should have broken up with you by text. I cheapened our relationship and disrespected you by doing that. If I could go back and do it again, I would’ve talked to you and made you understand.” I open my mouth to get more answers, but she holds up a hand, cutting me off. “I still don’t want to talk about it right now. I just needed you to know how sorry I am.”

“Thank you for apologizing.”

She gives me a small smile. “Now, shh. I’m watching the movie.”

Chapter Eight

Skylar

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