Page 20 of Husband Skills

I want Kingston Holt so badly, and he’s using me like a tool. Forpractice. And I know, he’s doing it with my consent, but still—I’m doubled over with how much that makes my insides ache.

“Talk to me,” Kingston commands, and now he sounds pissed off too, folding his arms to match my stance, two fighters squaring off. Can hardly blame him. “Whatever it is, spit it out, Danielle. Is this because I kissed you? Because if you didn’t like it, you could’ve said no.”

If I didn’t like it?

Didn’tlikeit?

That kiss ruined me for other men, and he thinks I didn’tlikeit? The audacity of this jerk! Doesn’t he know he’s scooped out my heart and tossed it on the ground? Didn’t he think about that when he married another woman?!

…In my dream.

Before he married her in mydream.

Holy shit. I’ve gone insane.

“Oh my god.” There’s nowhere to hide but my own hands, and I clap them over my eyes. My words are muffled, but I force them out, because obviously I owe this poor man an explanation. “I’m so sorry. I think I’m—I’m losing my mind. I had this horrible dream last night and now I’m acting like such an ogre.”

My cheeks burn hotter than ever, because lord, this is humiliating. My soul’s on display, and it ain’t pretty. My shoulders cave forward, and my eyes are squeezed shut, but I hear Kingston shift his weight. The floorboards creak under his bulk.

The same big, muscly bulk I had pressed against me yesterday, kissing me senseless on the bar. Back when everything was perfect, and I felt like doing cartwheels around the parking lot. Back before I let sleep deprivation and wild jealousy ruin everything.

“A dream,” Kingston says flatly. “You’re mad because of a dream.”

“Uh-huh.”

This is it. This is when I get dumped, fired, and probably committed all in one go. Can’t say I don’t deserve it after acting so weird and mean.

“Was I in it?” he asks. I nod behind my hands, and his voice drops lower. Goes tight with dread. “Did I hurt you? In the dream?”

Only my heart. Ugh.

“No,” I sniffle, because I hate the tension in my boss’s voice, and the way he’s barely breathing right now. It’s so quiet in here, my teeth are on edge. “But you married someone else, right in front of me. A-and I know that’s the plan, and it’ll happen eventually—you getting married, I mean, not that I’d be forced to watch. But it broke my heart and I guess I woke up crazy. I’m sorry, boss. Shit. I’m so sorry.”

I’ve always been a babbler. Not in everyday conversations so much, but when I’m upset all these pent up emotions build and build, crowding tight inside me, until the cork finally pops and it all comes spewing out in a rush.

Kingston is silent. Even when I stop breathing and strain my ears, he doesn’t make a peep.

It’s no use. I peek between my fingers.

The maddest man in Beaver Creek county stares back at me.

And he’s big, and broad, with his scarred eyebrows lowered and his dark eyes glinting, but I’m not scared he’ll hurt me. Never scared of that.

I’m scared he’ll send me away.

Because all I want is to be near this man. All I want, for the rest of my life, is to roll over in the morning and feel his warmth by my side. Feel the dip in the mattress. To hear his heavy breaths and see the pillow creases on his cheek, and then to burrow closer and smell his bare skin. Ilovehim.

Would Kingston ever consider me properly? You know: as a date? I know I’m younger and I’ve just thrown the world’s most ridiculous tantrum, but besides all that, I could be good for him. I know I could.

I’d love him, for starters. I’d show Kingston Holt that not everyone looks at him and sees an ex-con with scarred knuckles. WhenIlook at him, I see a safe harbor. I see home.

“You’re upset because I married someone else in your dream,” Kingston repeats. Hearing it out loud a second time, I wince.

Yeah, I’m a complete nincompoop. This is so embarrassing. “Yes,” I whisper, still peeking through my fingers. “Sorry.”

Kingston curses under his breath, then crosses his office in two strides. He plucks my hands away and smooths my hair back from my blushing face.

“Not gonna happen,” he says, and it’s with the voice he uses when folks get too rowdy in the bar. His laying-down-the-law voice.No oneargues with Kingston Holt when he uses that tone.

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