Page 77 of Buckled in Barbwire

“That’s really shitty,” Paisley mumbles.

“It is,” I agree. “I’ve made a lot of shitty decisions lately, most of them involving you. I’m not proud of myself, and I’m hoping you can forgive me.”

My sister clucks her tongue. “Mom would be so disappointed.”

“I’m aware,” I grit. “She would’ve understood my reasoning.”

“You can’t just… assume that.” Bianca flounders like a fish out of water.

My chest heaves under the pressure of defending myself. “I’ve made my peace with her.”

“How convenient for your guilty conscience,” my sister grumbles. “What did Dad have to say about that stunt?”

“He doesn’t know.” Forgot that tiny detail during my confession earlier.

Paisley’s brow knits. “Is that why he was nowhere to be found before our rush down the aisle?”

“Yes.”

“The secrets keep spilling out.” She huffs hard enough to send stray hairs flying off her forehead.

“Can’t believe I missed your wedding,” Bianca complains.

“Don’t fret. It’ll give you premature wrinkles. Our nuptials were more staged than a ceremony on Real Housewives.” Paisley’s humor belongs in a comedy skit.

My chuckle is dark. “Sorry to disappoint, but you’re legally bound to me, wife.”

Baby blues narrow into slits, hacking at my amusement. “I’m still not sure how you got the mayor to give you a marriage license before I signed it.”

“He owed me a favor,” I remind.

“Which trapped me in a loveless union.” She slams the rest of her espresso martini and signals for another. “What are you doing here, darling husband of mine?”

“Does that taste better than the ones I made you?”

“Not telling.”

“C’mon,” I urge.

“You didn’t answer my question and it’s the second time I’ve asked.” She holds up two fingers.

“I can’t let you walk away from us.” The urge to rephrase that statement, changingcan’ttowon’t, burns my tongue. But using force isn’t going to win her heart.

“We’ve already been over this. There’s nous,” she reiterates.

“That’s gonna change.”

“Do I get a choice?”

I grind my molars until an ache blooms in my jaw. “Yes.”

A coy smile curves her lips into a picture of satisfaction. I’m about to be served humble pie. She might toss it in my face before leaving me to choke on every bad move that led me here. It’s what I deserve for dominating our relationship up to this point.

Irritation spikes when whispers tickle my ears. It’s only then I realize we’re putting on a show that the entire town will binge by tomorrow. This isn’t the type of dirty laundry I want aired.

Stares avert when I look at our fellow patrons. Bianca got popcorn from the machine at some point. She’s munching loudly while waiting for what comes next. A glance behind me catches Colton watching her. The bartender picks that moment to drop off Paisley’s refill, lingering beyond common sense. Pressure builds into a bomb that’s ticking down to detonate. I’m about to make the scene worse.

Before that happens, I whip out my wallet and slap ten hundreds onto the glossy wood between us. “Shut the place down.”

---