Page 62 of The Love Wager

“Well, you can’t just leave her on read.”

“Leave her on read?” I ask, trying to hold back a laugh.

“It’s what the kids are saying these days. You can’t let it go unanswered.”

“She’s too big for this world. For this town. I can’t drag her back here. She doesn’t belong.”

His eyes roll. “So, go to her.”

He says it as if the answer was obvious the entire time.

“I have a life here.”

He shakes his head. “No. You have a bar here with an apartment upstairs. You don’t have a life. She could be your life. You can own a bar anywhere.”

“This was Dad’s place; I can’t sell it.”

“Whoa now, big guy. I still need somewhere to work, so maybe you could slow down.”

I grin. “You don’t want to run the bar.”

“Why not? Have you ever asked?”

I look at him, truly look at him.He’s not who he was when he got back on American soil. He’s healed and whole. His eyes are dancing with happiness. Shit, he looks fulfilled.

“You’d run this place?”

Nodding, he sits forward. “I think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself, though.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you actually have to woo the big city girl back into your arms before you can turn your bar over to me. But, yes, I’ll watch it while you’re gone.”

“You’re a shithead, you know that?”

He stands, stretching his back out. “It’s why you love me.”

He’s gone before I can reply, and I sit back in my chair and look at her contact in my phone for the millionth time today, wondering how the hell to get back to what we were before she left.

The moments we had before the wedding were pure perfection, wrapped in everything I’ve ever wanted to hold in my hands.

How the fuck do I get her back after everything went so sour?

Closing my eyes and bracing for what’s to come, I tap Taylor’s name on my phone.

“I thought you’d never call. Are you ready to plan?”

“I’m not doing anything over the top.”

“Define over the top.”

“There will be no jumping out of cakes, writing of poems, or song lyrics. Also, I’m not jumping out of a plane. In fact, no jumping. Jumping is off limits.”

Her laugh is melodic on the other end. “Got it. You’re old, with bad knees.”

“Taylor,” I say, bringing the tone down to a more serious note again. “I’m sorry for everything before.”

“I know you are, Brooksie. It’s all behind us now. Let’s get down to business now, hm? We’ve got a redhead to win back.”

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