Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
I swallowed hard. I might not know how I felt about Eden. And I might not want to think too much about how much I felt for Silas. But I prided myself on my honesty, so I couldn’t let that stand.
“No, I… I want you to come as my date,” I told him, stomach tumbling with nerves. “I want you to come as my husband. I want you to come because I like spending time with you.”
Silas turned his head to look at me, and whatever he saw made his wry expression soften and warm.
He took my hand in his and squeezed it gently. “I told you before, Way. If you want me to come, I’ll be there.”
But as I squeezed back, I couldn’t help wondering, For how long?
TWENTY
SILAS
“Choc-o-late! Choc-o-late for one or two dollars!” a little girl singsonged as she waved two different sizes of candy bars through the crowd on Poke Street. She wore a sash across her chest with the name of a school club on it, so I stopped her to donate to the cause.
“Thanks!” she said before turning to her mother. “Mama, Mayor Fletcher’s First Gentleman just gave me twenty dollars!”
I stared after her as the sound of Way and Sheridan’s laughter hit my ears.
Sheridan leaned over with a laugh and patted my shoulder. “Oh my god, the look on your face.”
Way stood up straighter and tugged at his shirt as if to straighten it. “That’s right. First Gentleman of Majestic, Wyoming. It’s a position to be proud of, Silas. We can’t all be mayor. Some of us need to be ornamental.”
The teasing glint in his eyes reminded me of our drive home from town earlier in the day. With the windows down and the warm breeze blowing through the windows, I’d had one of those moments where I’d wanted to stop time. Way was relaxed and funny, provoking and sexy, and it had occurred to me I would have rather been there in that vehicle on the wide, empty highway than anywhere else on earth.
“Am I doing you proud?” I asked, straightening my own shirt and glancing down at my clothes. I wore dark jeans over brown leather shoes, topped with a white button-down and a dark vest. It was the closest I could come to “country fancy” with what Kenji had sent me.
The heat in Way’s eyes as he looked me up and down confirmed I’d done okay with my selection.
“You’ll do,” he said in a low voice, which only made Sheridan laugh even louder.
I’d come to like Way’s sister. And she obviously loved her older brother. I’d seen her often in the cafe as I’d gone to meet Way for lunch or stopped in to pick up a treat for him, and over the course of the past week and a half, we’d managed to exchange enough small conversations for me to pick up on the fact she and her husband were considering a house move.
But they had yet to tell Waylon about it.
When I’d first learned of it, she’d casually asked me not to mention it to him, and I’d agreed. At the time, it had felt like it was their family business and none of mine. Now that more time had passed, I was beginning to feel like I was keeping a secret from him, and I hoped she planned on telling him before it became a problem.
ZuZu walked up to us, glancing back at the girl who’d been selling the candy bars. “How come you didn’t take any candy? I saw you give her some cash.”
I shrugged. “Figured I didn’t need it, and she’ll have more to sell tonight.”
I didn’t know Way’s younger sister as well as Sheridan since I’d only met her once or twice in town. She was young and spirited, friendly and different. More artsy and quirky. I wondered if she might be the Fletcher who wound up wanting to spread her wings and leave this part of Wyoming. If she did, I imagined it would break Way’s heart.
“Want me to go get one for you?” I added.
“Nah. Thanks, though. I think I’m going to get a margarita from Dos Beckys’ table.”
I shot a silent question at Way, who snorted.
“It was originally called something Mexican,” he explained. “I don’t even remember now, but everyone started calling it Dos Beckys when two girls from the cheer squad at the high school started working there part-time and suddenly made it the ‘it’ place to go.”
“If you’re looking for authentic Mexican,” Sheridan added, “you’ve come to the wrong place by many, many miles.”
Way pulled ZuZu back by the shoulder when she turned to seek her margarita. “Not so fast, babygirl. Howabout a Sprite instead?”
“Howabout you remember that I’m almost twenty-one?” she shot back.
Way pretended to consider that. “Howabout you remind me what age that actually makes you right now?”