Page 16 of Out in the Country

“Keep it up and we’ll be readin’ about underwater basket weaving.”

“I’ve heard that’s a real page-turner.”

Sorren grunts and Rhea chuckles. “You ready to go?”

“Y’all aren’t stayin’?” I ask, and Rhea shakes her head.

“I couldn’t get coverage for the bakery so we could only come up for the wedding and reception. Besides, my date is all peopled out.”

She looks up at him with a playful smile, which he returns with an arched brow. Rhea hasn’t stopped touching him, and I have a million questions that are none of my business, but I need something to distract me from the small circles Everett is drawing on my back.

“Are you sure you have to leave?” My question comes out almost as a whine, causing Rhea to grin and Sorren to do the eyebrow thing again.

The pressure of Everett’s hand against me increases as he leans down and brushes his lips against my ear as he says, “You scared I might bite, Hayden?”

Using every ounce of my willpower, I stifle the full-body shiver his words ignite in me and smile.

“Course not.”

It’s not a lie.

I’m afraid of how much I’ll like it, and no way I’ll want him to stop.

8

EVERETT

“Hayden, come dance with me!” Harper shouts over “Uptown Funk” by Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars. Her beautiful dress is bunched in her hands and showing off the cowboy boots she changed into sometime between the ceremony and cutting the cake.

“Go on.” I nudge him, and he looks at me with wide eyes.

Taking his drink from his hand, I take a sip without breaking his gaze and then lick the whiskey from my lip. He’s mesmerized, and I let my eyes rake over him in a way that leaves no question as to what I’m thinking.

Hayden swallows hard and then looks back to the dance floor before clearing his throat.

“Can you, uh, hold my jacket?” he asks as he shrugs out of it. “Or I can just leave it at the table.”

I reach for it, and our hands brush slightly as I take it from him. “I got it.”

“Thanks.” Hayden motions toward the dance floor, and I nod as he starts rolling up his sleeves and moving toward Harper. He looks back at me, twice, and I can’t help but grin because he knows I’ll be watching him.

It’s freeing finally being able to openly admire him like this. He might not know everything, and Lord knows he has questions, but it’s a good start. He shimmies and shakes to the music and sings with abandon. He’s adorable and sexy, and the way his body moves has me shrugging out of my jacket as well.

Hayden catches my eye, and I wink. He blushes furiously and turns back to the group in front of him, but I swear he shakes his ass a little more and I can only hope it’s for my benefit.

He looks delectable with his pants molded to his ass and thighs and his dress shirt stretched tight across his frame. Our jobs are both physical, and while I’ve packed on some muscle over the years, Hayden has stayed lean and delicious—and am I drooling?

Using the back of my hand, I try as subtly as I can to wipe away any evidence that I’m literally salivating over my best friend. I’ve never had this kind of visceral reaction to anyone before—man or woman. That probably should have been a red flag somewhere along the way, but it doesn’t matter now.

Pushing off the bar, I skirt along the dance floor and onto the patio. I need the fresh air to calm my racing heart and to gather myself before Hayden comes looking for me.

Closing my eyes, I tilt my head toward the sky and inhale. It’s the first time I’ve really stopped all day and let the magnitude of everything settle. Hayden is going to want to talk, and I understand that—expect it even—but it’s hard to put into words that I hated going through the motions of dating women. They were fine, some were great, but the spark was never there. I kept waiting to feel that all-consuming love and passion, but it never came.

Looking out over the lawn, I drag my teeth over my lower lip as I remember finding Hayden sitting at the kitchen table trying to hide his tears in a bowl of ice cream the year before. He’d finally ended things with his on-again, off-again boyfriend, Glen, on my birthday.

I didn’t care about my birthday. I hadn’t even saidI told you so. I just let him cry on my shoulder as he mourned the finality of a relationship that had never been what he needed. I wanted to protect him—body and heart—from ever feeling that way again.

At first, the thought hadn’t been anything other than the fierce need to protect my best friend, but over the last year, it became something else entirely.

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