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He sighed through the line. “Trust me, I know. But I’m done waiting, man. I’m ready for that woman to have my last name for the rest of our lives. Besides, Charlotte’s crew is already all over helping her get shit in order, so all I gotta do is sit back, relax, and maybe give her a few orgasms if she starts losing her mind to get her back to center.”
“She’s such a lucky woman,” I deadpanned, fighting back a grin.
“Fuck yeah, she is. But speaking of the wedding, there’s something I wanna ask you.”
It felt like my chest was being squeezed in a vise, my ribs tightening around my heart and lungs until there wasn’t enough room.
“Will you be my best man?”
And there it was.Fuck.
“You know I will, man,” I squeezed out, past the rocks filling my throat. “I’d be honored.” And that was the goddamn truth. I’d never had any brothers or sisters growing up. The guys I’d served with and the men at Alpha Omega had become my family. But out of all of them, Dalton Prescott was the one I was closest to. He was my brother in every way but blood, and even lacking that, I couldn’t imagine being closer to anyone else. I’d step in front of a bullet for the man, lay down my life for him. By marrying Charlotte, she had that exact same loyalty from me, so keeping this secret was eating at my goddamn soul.
“Good. Can’t think of anyone else I’d want up there standing next to me when I finally marry my woman.”
And that vise got even tighter. “Feeling’s mutual.”
“All right. I’ll let you go. But keep me posted if anything pops up, yeah?”
“Will do.”
We rang off a second later, and I dragged my sorry ass into the bathroom. I needed a shower after my run, and hopefully—though I seriously doubted it—I could wash the shame away as well.
Chapter Eight
Sawyer
The bellover the door of Warren’s General Store tinkled, and my head shot up, my focus once again leaving the stack of receipts I was looking through to see who’d just come through the door.
“Morning, Sawyer. Morning, Georgia,” Gloria, a stay-at-home mom of three, greeted as she shuffled inside, pushing a stroller while a kid practically hung off each arm.
“Morning, Gloria,” I said with a smile that felt a bit stiff. Fortunately, she was too busy wrangling kids to notice, and disappeared down the second aisle.
Georgia’s voice whispered in my ear, giving me a jolt. “What’s going on with you this morning?” I hadn’t even realized she’d moved so close until her breath fanned across my cheek.
I placed my hand on my chest and inhaled sharply. “Jeez, Georgia. Give me a heart attack why don’t you?”
“That.” She shoved her finger in my face. “That right there is what I’m talking about. You’ve been jumpy all day, fidgeting around, constantly watching the door. It’s taken you three times longer to go through those receipts than it usually does.”
I pushed out a heavy sigh, my shoulders slumping. “Sorry. My brain’s all over the place today. I’ll pick up the pace.”
She gave her wrist a flick. “Please, child. I don’t care about the damn receipts. You’re good at your job and you’ll get them done when you get them done. I’m not worried about that. I want to know what’s going on with you.”
“There’s nothing going on with me, swear. It’s just an off day, I guess.” As if the universe was in cahoots with my boss and wanted to help prove her point, the bell sounded with the opening of the door, and my attention shot straight to it.
I smiled and gave William Henry a friendly wave as I felt myself deflate.
I didn’t know who I was watching for. Okay, that was a lie. I knew exactly who I was watching for; I just didn’t knowwhyI was watching for him. I had no reason to believe Trent would be stopping into the general store today, but for some reason I felt this annoying, nagging sense of... hope maybe?
It was ridiculous. I knew that. I was acting like a school girl just waiting for her crush to come walking through the door of her homeroom class. Pathetic.
My boss’s snort pulled me back to reality. “Off day my round derrière. Start talking, or I’m calling Dezzy down here to get the truth out of you.”
She always threatened to get her husband involved whenever she was worried about me. Not that it ever did her any good. Desmond treated me like his own flesh and blood, a daughter who had him wrapped around his little finger.
The man was a big old marshmallow. He’d rather cut off his own arm than get stern with me, and Georgia knew that.
She didn’t threaten to get him involved because he’d put his foot down, she did it because she knew I couldn’t stand it when either of them worried about me.
