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“That’s why it’s a big deal I’m a Barron.” I used to care about my last name in that I didn’t want it to be associated with a broke-ass family. The meaning of my last name in Coal Haven was different, and it was highly annoying that it was an issue in how people accepted the idea of me and Delaney together. We had enough of our own shit to work through.
She nodded and dug into her soup. It was a bigger deal than she let on. I’d run across some family drama in my time making land deals, but I hadn’t expected to find it in my own history, to have it rear its head and affect my marriage. As if we didn’t have enough to get over.
We finished our food. Delaney gathered up our trash. “Well, I guess it’s about that time.”
I didn’t want the evening to be over. I didn’t want to take her home while I came back to an empty bed. The optimism I had felt before had leveled out and dipped a little. Delaney had been raised to think being a Barron equaled being an arrogant jackass, and I hadn’t done much to show that I was different other than to let her in on the reasons why I lived my life the way I did.
She rose to stuff all our garbage in the plastic to-go bag. I was seated, but she didn’t tower over me. She adjusted her worn ball cap, and her blonde ponytail sticking out swung like a pendulum. She was dressed like she’d worked all day, and she had for part of the day. The rest had been spent on the most relaxed afternoon I’d had since the last time I was able to lounge in bed with her and ignore the world.
I lazily drank in her lithe body as the concerns I harbored faded against my desire. Her slight curves had always captivated me, but knowing they came from hard, honest work sent blood to my dick faster than ever.
I snatched her wrist and tugged her toward me.
“Archer!” She fell onto my lap, bracing herself by pushing against my chest. Her legs straddled mine. She was sitting too far away to feel my growing erection, but my dick noticed her.
I circled my arms around her waist. “Can I hold you?” I’d let her go if she said no.Please say yes.
She was tense. “I’ve been up since five and I smell like horse sweat.”
“A little horse sweat never scared me off.” I leaned forward and gave her a sniff that ended at the base of her throat. Subtle hints of strawberry, like what I’d smelled her mom smoking, the horse sweat she’d mentioned, and the faint floral fragrance of her favorite lotion. I relaxed into the chair but didn’t let her go. “I wish we’d talked like this earlier.”
Her tension leaked out, and her expression turned troubled. Defeated. “It doesn’t matter though. Does it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that my life is here, and yours is in Dallas.”
She’d hit on the crux of the issue between us. She was a Granger before we married—an unexpected issue. She’d left without an explanation, and I hadn’t chased her. Another major issue. But in the end, we’d each felt our place was across the country from the other. A startling concept I’d failed to ponder before now.
I didn’t quit holding her. If she wanted off my lap, she’d get off. I’d learned that about her since I’d come to town.
I refused to give up. “I think it’s still too early to trash what’s between us.”
“No, it means there’s no point. You have all the proof you need to justify an annulment.”
Irritation swept through me like a brush fire. “I don’t want a fucking annulment. Jesus, Delaney. I want my wife.”
“A wife who lives in another state—”
I pressed my thumb to her lips. “But we’re here. Together. You’re straddling my lap right now. Wearing dirty jeans I’d love to strip off. Trying to hide your hat head. Don’t think I don’t know that’s why you’re not taking your cap off.”
Her brows drew together as I flipped her cap onto the table. Her pale hair was plastered to her head, and several strands stuck up. My lips curved up.
She scowled. “Quit laughing at my hair.”
“I’m not laughing. It’s adorable.”
There was the eye roll again.
“Your mama gave you hell for that eye roll, didn’t she?”
Her smile faded. “Ma gives me hell, period. She always has.”
“Cuz you give it back.” Yeah, there was a lot between us we had to address. Much of it made it difficult to create a successful marriage. I’d spent most of the drive from Dallas steeling myself against seeing Delaney with her bright-blue eyes, her soft smile, and her blonde curls. She was gorgeous and sweet, but I was supposed to get out of our marriage.
I hadn’t been prepared for a wife who hid our vows, bit my head off, and ate over half of the fried pickles.
I was supposed to get out of our marriage. But it was the last thing I wanted to do. The first thing I wanted to do was capture those naked pink lips that hadn’t seen a swipe of gloss all day.
