Awesome. I reminded him of his seven-year-old. Yep, that was a wet blanket to any potential sexy thoughts I’d been harboring.
I sat down. “Anyway, we’ll avoid that one. What’s the next part?”
“What’s wrong?” Webb lowered the scroll to peer down at me. “Your mood just collapsed.”
“Nothing. No. Just…”I’m staring at your kissable lips, and you’re thinking I’m cute like your child. “It’s been a heck of a day. Let’s finish up and move on, okay?”
“Yeah. Of course. Here, if it means that much to you.” He handed me the scroll.
“Part the Tenth,” I read. “The Betrotheds must Simultaneously Immerse Themselves in a Publick Cleansing Font, River, Lake, Pond, or Stream.”
“Public bathing? Please explain howthatcould be wholesome.”
“I… I don’t know,” I admitted, mystified. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. Unless they were… clothed somehow? Anyway, not a situation we’ll find ourselves in since it’sFebruary. Um… Part the Eleventh, the Betrotheds must have their Hands Bound Together by Rope?—”
“We keep getting kinkier.”
I snickered. “—in front of the Mayor, or Another Person of Authority within the Town?—”
“Extra kinky.”
“Shush. And then finally… oh! Oh, this is perfect.” I couldn’t help but smile at him in relief. “Part twelve. In order to seal our ‘Blessed Union,’ the Betrotheds must ‘Appear on the Town Common by Sundown, on the Eighth Sunday of the betrothal period,restate their oaths, and blow the bugle again.” I rolled up the scroll, set it on the table, and dusted my hands triumphantly. “There’s nowaywe’re going to check off everything on the list.”
“Not planning to fall in love with me in the next eight weeks, then?” he teased.
“Please. About as likely as you are to fall in love with me,” I scoffed.
Attraction was one thing. Love? No. I could hardly fall in love with someone who was so incredibly off-limits.
“There are not enough Rusty Spikes in all the land,” Webb assured me. He held out a hand to shake, like we were making a deal, and I took it in mine, studiously ignoring how the slide of his callused fingers felt against my palm.
“So we agree,” Webb said. “The easiest way to handle this handfasting is to ignore it as much as possible and let the whole thing blow over?”
“Absolutely. We may have stumbled into this handfasting thing,but,” I said firmly, “there is obviously no way we could end up accidentally married.”
CHAPTER TEN
WEBB
“Webb!I heard you’re getting married, brother!Mazel tov.”
“What?” I blinked away from a horrifying mental image of Luke trying to balance a ladder on his fucking roof to find my laptop screen had gone dark, the sun had fully set, and my brother Porter—the fourth Sunday sibling—was leaning against my office doorframe wearing a sly smile and a Hannabury College baseball cap.
“Hey.” I ran a hand over my face. “When’d you get home, shit stirrer?”
“About an hour ago.” Porter’s face split into a playful grin that reminded me of our father. “And I think you meant to say, ‘Porter, my favorite brother, I missed you! I’m so glad you chose to come home for the weekend.’”
“Did I?” I asked dryly, tilting my chair to stretch out my cramped back muscles.
“Yup. To which I would reply that I couldn’tnotcome home when I heard that my favorite brother had such big news,” he teased. “I’m surprised Reed didn’t fly in from DC for the occasion so all us Sundays could be together! Aiden’s teacher’s gonna make an honest man of you, eh? Is that what you were woolgathering about just now?”
“Please.” I huffed out a breath.Woolgatheringwas spot-on, though.
I’d come home, got caught up with Aiden, hearing every detail of his sleepover and giving him the thrilling news that his mom would be taking him to hockey practice from now on, and then sat down to reply to an email from my accountant…
And instead, I’d googled slate roofs, Vermont inheritance laws, and Romeldale sheep before daydreaming about Luke.
But I was sure as fucknottelling my mischief-making brother any of that.
