Page 48 of The Marriage Deal
Nash waggles his brows. “Can I come?”
Nois on the tip of my tongue. I’m not sure why the idea of sharing her with him has tension surging inside me. I mutter, “Sure.”
I pullmy truck into a slot in the lot that borders the big green space in the center of town. Massive wispy-weepy trees Mom would love slow dance in a light breeze, casting shade through beams of hot sun. There’s a covered stage where I’ve heard live music plays while the town gathers, but it’s currently empty of talent. Dotted in the grass, bracketing the greenspace front and center of the stage, are picnic tables. Lilah sits at one. She’s not alone.
I sigh, flip my cowboy hat off my head to run a hand through my hair before I slam the hat back on. A flick of my gaze in the rearview mirror and my gut twists. Still to this day, I hate that I don’t see a piece of him looking back at me. Especially when I wear his hat.
More, I hate that I see pieces of Daniel Alder. Hate that I look more like him than I do her.
I hate knowing that when she looks at me, I know she sees him. How can she see anything else?
Swinging open the door of the truck, I meet Nash at the front of the truck and walk with him toward the picnic table my fiancée asked me to meet her at.
“Which one is she?” Nash asks, gaze sliding over the park and the tables that have been claimed by people. It’s a nice day out, so it’s not surprising the park is full.
“The one in the pink dress.” It’s more peach in color than pink, not that I’d tell Nash that. He’s all for details, but I doubt he’s picking details when it comes to women’s clothes. Me, though? I’m always looking at the little things.
Now, I can’t help but note the way the solid peach of her dress compliments the glow of her smooth tan skin and dark blonde waves as they fall down her back in a tumble of liquid honey dipped in shade. When she looks over her shoulder at us, her pink lips part and I swear I take an invisible punch to the gut. The woman is more than beautiful. She’s hypnotic.
Nash whistles. I consider tossing him a not so invisible punch.
“Looks like you’re not the only one who thought to bring a friend,” Nash points out the obvious.
My eyes drift to the woman who sits across from her. She’s pretty, too. Her hair is a frizzy updo of tight blonde curls a shade or two lighter than Lilah’s. I think she might be a touch taller as well, but not by much. Her stature, however, is more willowy. Lilah’s stature is full and rich with curves in the best way. Under the shade of the table are three dogs sprawled in the grass.
We arrive at the table, and I don’t miss the way all the others watch us. I kick into show-gear as Nash flirts, “Ladies.”
I bend and press a kiss to Lilah’s cheek that has a spill of pink heating her skin. Pride and interest I have no business feeling swells inside me. I throw a leg over the bench beside her, sitting facing her with one leg on either side of the seat. Nash moves to do the same on the side with Lilah’s friend. Not a single dog lifts his head.
“Madelyn, this is Briggs. Briggs, my absolute bestest friend in the whole wide world, Madelyn.”
“Don’t let Tara or Dakota hear you say that.” Madelyn leans over the table to extend a hand that I take in a quick shake. “Nice to finally meet you.” Her eyes shine withsomething. She adds, “My bestest friend in the whole wide world’sfiancé.”
Ah, there’s that something. She thinks there’s something fishy about this relationship. She’s not wrong.
Before I can speak, Lilah says, “Don’t be fooled. I tell everyone I introduce to both Tara and Dakota that they’re my absolute bestest friend in the whole wide world, too.”
Nash laughs. “Damn girl, harsh.”
Lilah flashes Nash a cheeky little grin that does things to me. I ignore those things and mutter, “She’s sassy.”
“It’s called keeping you on your toes.” Lilah scoots closer to me, fluttering those long lashes as she looks at me with those eyes that score deep. She adds on a husky breath, “Fiancé.”
The urge to lean in and kiss the sass off her tongue is massive. I’ve only ever felt the urge to claim a woman’s mouth like this once before, and it was her mouth the last time I’d claimed it.
My voice sounds rough between us. “You definitely do that.”
“Whoa.” Madelyn waves her hand over her face. “Is it hot out here?”
“Yep,” Nash replies, but there is unmistakable laughter in his tone. “Think my bud might just have met his match.”
“Match?” Madelyn scoffs. “Not a chance. She’ll eat him for dinner.”
Nash snorts. “He can only hope.”
Madelyn’s eyes snap wide. “You didn’t!”
Nash winks at her. “You started it.”
