The Reason I Married Him

I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.

Wait, I know I haven’t.

I know for a fact that I have never been this happy. This carefree. This joyful.

I wake up with a smile on my face. I go to sleep with a satisfied smile on my face. I spend my days feeling like I matter, like I belong here, like I’m actually wanted and not an inconvenience.

And it’s all because of Wyatt.

These past few days in Canoodle have been a dream.

We’ve walked around town every day, trying out different restaurants. Put a Wing On It was my favorite—their buffalo wings were heaven. We hiked some trails. We’ve made out in the middle of the woods, the rustling of branches and the tweeting birds mingling with our moaning. We even skinny-dipped into a lake on one of the trails for about two seconds before we both screamed from the frigid temperatures. We snuggled in the cabin in front of the fire while watching movies and drinking hot cocoa. We have fucked on nearly every surface of the cabin imaginable, sometimes twice. And at night, when he holds me, tucking me against his chest, I’ve felt safe and . . . loved.

I never want this to end.

I never want to lose this feeling.

This consuming, weightless, exuberant feeling.

But all good things must come to an end, hence why I’m zipping up my suitcase and rolling it to the stairs.

“Leave it up there,” Wyatt shouts from down below. “I’ll grab it, babe.”

He’s so thoughtful. Considerate.

I remember going on a trip with Matt one time, and he never offered to carry my luggage. Not that I need a man to help me, but the offer is nice.

I head down the stairs just as Wyatt starts coming up. We meet halfway, and he places his hand on my stomach. He leans in and kisses me. When I part my lips, he groans and leans me back against the stairwell wall. My arms loop around his neck, and I pull him closer as his hand smooths down my ass, gripping me tighter.

I deepen the kiss by letting my tongue tangle with his, getting lost in the sensation of just me and him.

“Fuck, baby,” he says as one of his hands goes up the back of my shirt. “You’re getting me hard.”

To see if he’s telling the truth, I move my hand to his jeans, where I’m greeted with a bulge. I smile against his lips, stroking him through the rough fabric.

“Aubree,” he groans in frustration but doesn’t stop me. “Babe, we don’t have time.”

But we do. I know we have time. I checked my phone. We have just the right amount of time.

I take his hand in mine and slip it down my leggings where I’m not wearing underwear.

“Fuck,” he breathes heavily as he feels how wet I am already. He slips two fingers along my clit and then slides them inside me. “Jesus, Aubree. This clit wants me, doesn’t it?”

“Badly,” I say as I rock my hips over his hand. “Please, Wyatt.”

He grunts and then says, “You better come quick.” He spins me around and guides me down onto the stairs. He strips my leggings down to my knees, then I hear him unzip his jeans.

“You’re playing with fire today, Aubree,” he says as I hear him stroke himself. “But fuck, how could I say no.” He props one foot up on the stair above the one he’s standing on and then angles my ass in the air before he smacks it so hard that I yelp. Soothingly, he rubs his hand over where he spanked me and says, “You okay?”

Pleasure rips through me as I nod. “Again,” I reply.

“That’s my good girl,” he says before spanking me again. I can feel my entire body convulse with pleasure from his hand.

“More,” I say, and thankfully, he does it again.

And again.

And again.

Until I can feel my clit throbbing between my legs.

“Wyatt, inside me. Now.”

His hand smooths over my backend before he props it up again. He spreads my legs just enough that I can still hold the stairs in a good position and brings the head of his cock to my entrance.

“My baby is so fucking turned on,” he says as he enters me, one inch at a time. “Jesus Christ, this pussy.” He sinks farther and farther until he can’t go anymore.

And he stays like that for a few seconds, stretching me to the point that I feel like I wouldn’t be able to take any more.

That’s when he spanks me, startling me so much that I clench around his cock.

“Oh fuck,” he drags out. “Fuck, Aubree. Baby.” He grunts and takes a few deep breaths. “Christ, I’m going to come fast.” And then he spanks me again, causing me to clench once more on a groan.

“Wyatt.” I rest my head against the stairs, my entire body lit up, teetering, waiting for more.

“What, baby? What do you want?”

“For you to fuck me,” I say, my body humming.

“Then hang on,” he says as he thrusts so hard into me that my face nearly collides with the stairs, but it’s just the right force that I need.

“Yes,” I moan. “Just like that.”

From the corner of my eye, I can see him gripping the stairwell as he starts to pump feverishly into me, his hips flying so fast. As if this is the first time we’re ever having sex, and he can’t get enough of it when, in reality, this is normal for him.

This need.

This drive.

This sense of complete loss of mind as he searches out both of our orgasms.

It turns me on.

It gets me hotter.

It builds me to the precipice as he pounds into me stroke after stroke until I can’t hold on anymore.

“Oh my God, Wyatt, I’m there, please . . .”

He pulls out of me, and before I can gasp in displeasure, he brings his large body between my legs and spreads me only for his tongue to stroke at my clit. Fast flicks that cause everything around us to go black.

The pleasure is too much.

My orgasm too strong.

And I find myself screaming his name as I come all over his tongue, spasms shooting through me as he continues to lap at me until I can’t take it anymore, and I squeeze my legs together.

Getting the hint, he pulls away and then brings his large cock up to my mouth. Our eyes connect as I open my mouth, and he dips himself inside, pushing his cock to the back of my throat.

“Fucking hell, Aubree. I want to hear you gag.”

I grip his base, pump him hard, and then bring him to the back of my throat again, where I gag loudly.

“Yes, baby.”

I do it again, letting him stay a touch longer this time.

“Oh fuck. Baby, I’m going to come.” I pump him fast, bring him to the back of my throat, then run my tongue along the underside of his cock before sucking the tip hard. That’s when he grips the banister and groans as he comes in my mouth.

I continue to suck until he’s completely done, and he releases himself.

He leans against the stairwell wall, lets out a deep sigh, and then mutters, “Jesus fuck, that was intense.”

I stand from the stairs, pull up my leggings, and kiss his neck. “But it was perfect.”

I start to move away when he grips me and pulls me in for a kiss. “It’s because you’re perfect.”

“SO . . . HOW WAS THE HONEYMOON?” Echo asks the moment Hattie, she, and I all take a seat at Rosa’s Cantina. When they heard I was back in town, they both wanted to meet up for a meal, so I met them for lunch.

“I like how you get right to the point,” Hattie says. “Because that’s what I wanted to know too and was not looking forward to small talk.”

I stare between the two of them, their eager faces making me chuckle. “Wow, you guys. Don’t you think that’s private?”

“No,” they both say at the same time.

“Do you want me to tell you about what I did with Hayes last night to make you feel better?” Hattie asks. “It involved a garden hose.”

“For the love of God, keep that to yourself.” I cringe. I don’t need to know about my little sister’s sex life.

“You don’t need to give us details,” Echo says. “But you know, just an overall impression of your honeymoon would be fun to hear.”

“Yes, and if you slip in details here and there, I won’t be upset about it.” Hattie practically bounces up and down on her chair.

Since we ordered our food before we sat down, we do have some time, so I lean back in my chair and say, “It was perfect. His cabin is everything I could have imagined when he talked about it. Secluded, picturesque, cozy. The town was so cute, and the people there were very kind. One of his friends actually just had a baby, so we visited with her and her husband. They were so sweet. We spent most of our time either hiking or you know . . . just hanging out.”

Hattie places her hand on the table and says, “When you say hanging out, you mean having sex, right?”

“Honestly, Hattie.” I roll my eyes.

“Well . . .” she says, not letting it go.

“Oh my God, yes. We enjoyed an immense amount of sex.”

She claps her hands in glee. “Oh that’s wonderful. And he satisfied you?”

My cheeks heat as I mumble, “Yes, very much.”

“I knew it.” Hattie jabs her finger into the table as if proving a point. “It’s always the freaky ones who have the best sex, and given the kind of books Wyatt writes, I bet he has some amazing sex. Like . . . ooo, I bet he holds your neck when he fucks you.”

How does she know that?

My cheeks flame even hotter, and she notices because she points at me. “Oh my God, I’m right, aren’t I?”

I shift my silverware and say, “That’s neither here nor there.”

“Wow.” She slow claps. “I don’t think I’ll ever look at Wyatt the same. Good for him. Wait, no, good for you.” She pats my shoulder. “I’m happy for you. I love a good neck hold while being pounded into. Does Wyatt say things like he’s going to slit his throat and use the blood to get himself off?”

“What?” I hiss. “No. Oh my God, Hattie, where are you getting that from?”

She shrugs. “Just . . . places.”

“What the hell are you and Hayes doing?”

She scoffs. “Well, if you hadn’t interrupted me while I was telling you about the garden hose, you would know.”

I hold up my hand. “Please, spare me.”

She shrugs again. “Your loss.” Then she stands. “I have to go to the bathroom. Don’t say anything too juicy while I’m gone.”

When she’s out of earshot, Echo turns toward me and asks, “So . . . how was it really?”

I lean in and whisper, “So freaking amazing, Echo. He told me he liked me, and I told him I liked him. We both want to see where this goes, and then it just felt effortless. Nothing was awkward. Everything was right. Like this is what we should have been doing this entire time. And oh my God, I like him so freaking much . . . like borderline feelings here.”

Her eyes widen as she whispers, “Like . . . love?”

I nod and press my hands to my cheeks. “I can’t believe I’m even saying that, but yeah, I think so. There’s something different about him, Echo. And I know what you must be thinking⁠—”

“I’m sure you don’t,” she says with a smile.

“You’re not thinking this is insane?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m thinking this is amazing.” She presses her hand on top of mine. “You deserve happiness, Aubree, and you’ve found it.”

I nod, feeling my emotions get the better of me. “Yeah, I did find it in the strangest of ways.”

Echo laughs. “I wasn’t going to say that, but now that you’ve put it out there, yes, it was a roundabout way to find someone to love, but I like the unconventional.”

“I do too.” I sigh and shake my head. “God, how life has changed so quickly. I never would have guessed this is where I’d be a few weeks ago, falling in love while married to a man who initially irritated me more than anyone else.”

“Yes, I do remember you wanting to throw him off the side of the cliffs.”

“Desperately.” I laugh. “How was he able to change my mind so quickly?”

“Because he’s a good guy, and you allowed yourself to recognize that.”

I nod. “You’re right. He’s a very good guy. Besides my brother, he’s the absolute best.”

Just then, Hattie comes walking toward us, rubbing her hands together. “Did I miss anything good?”

I glance at Echo, who smiles. “Nope,” I answer.

Hattie looks back and forth between us and huffs. “You totally talked about the sex, didn’t you?” She shakes her head in disappointment. “Aubree, what kind of sisters are we if we can’t share about our sex lives?”

“Normal ones,” I answer. “Healthy, normal ones.”

“So boring,” she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

“HEY, YOU,” Wyatt says as I walk into the farmhouse after taking a long, hot shower. When I returned to the farm after lunch, I decided to help Echo finish the bee house so she could expand her product line, but it wasn’t easy. We got very sweaty and dirty, and I went straight into the shower, not bothering to check on Wyatt, who’s been watching Mac this evening while Ryland attends meet the teacher night.

“Hey,” I say as I walk up to him. Leaning into his chest, I stand on my toes and kiss him lightly on the lips. His arms wrap around me, and he holds me close, kissing me again.

“Missed you today,” he says before giving me another kiss.

I smile against his mouth. “I missed you, too.”

He pulls away just enough so I can catch his brows lifting in question. “You did? I must be really rubbing off on you if you’re saying nice things like that.”

I playfully pinch his side, which makes him chuckle. “I say nice things to you.”

“That’s right. This morning in the shower, you were telling me how big my cock was.”

“Oh my God, Wyatt,” I whisper before looking over my shoulder.

“She’s up in her room, sleeping.”

“Wait, what?” I ask. “Mac is already in bed?”

He nods. “Call me the Mac whisperer. After an early dinner of peanut butter and jelly, my specialty, she kicked my ass in Twister, and then she was yawning a lot, so I asked if she wanted to go to bed, and she volunteered. So yeah, she’s in bed.”

“Did you lace her peanut butter and jelly with Benadryl?”

His hands slide up my back. “I’ll never tell my secrets. But for the record and reassurance, no, I didn’t drug her.”

I chuckle. “Good to know.”

“Are you hungry? I can make you a sandwich.”

I shake my head. “Had a late lunch with Hattie and Echo. Not really hungry.”

“Are you sure? I can whip one up real quick.”

“Positive,” I say as I take his hand and lead him over to the couch, where I pull him down next to me.

“Um, I think you know where you should be sitting,” he says as he glances at his lap.

I chuckle and shake my head. “Not in my brother’s house. I don’t want him walking in thinking that we’re dry humping on his couch.”

“Are you afraid he doesn’t know you’ve lost your virginity?”

“Oh my God, no, Wyatt,” I say while he laughs. “I just don’t want him walking in and seeing me straddling your lap.”

“Hey, I just asked you to sit on my lap, not straddle. Huge difference. Although, given the voracious appetite you have for me, I can see where you have concerns. You can’t control yourself around me. That’s fair.”

My expression falls to annoyance. “You are incredibly annoying. Do you know that?”

“Yes, you tell me almost every day.” He leans in close and pops a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Now, how was your lunch with the gals?”

“The gals?” I ask.

He smirks. “Yup, the gals. Did you tell them about the stair sex? Because I still think about it. I told Laurel. I don’t think she was impressed, more disturbed with the oversharing, but I had to tell someone. I’ve never fucked on stairs before.”

“I didn’t mention the stairs,” I reply, deadpanned.

“Shame. Because that was hot, baby. Shame we don’t have stairs in the guest house because I’d do a replay. Guess we’ll just have to wait until we’re down at the cabin again. Which brings me to a question I had for us.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

He takes my hand in his and entwines our fingers. “Not moving too fast, but just thought we should talk about this, given our current living situation. Do you think we should consider other housing?”

“What do you mean?” I ask just as Ryland comes in through the front door, wearing khaki shorts, a black polo, and his hair all done. It’s sort of funny seeing him in his school gear when I’m so used to him being casual around the farm and out on the baseball field.

“Hey,” he says as he takes his shoes off and puts them in the shoe bin. “Where’s Mac?”

“Sleeping,” Wyatt says. “She was really tired, said she wanted to go to bed, and then went to bed.”

Ryland pauses and glances at me. “What the fuck, she really said that?”

“Yup,” Wyatt answers with such pride.

“Why the hell does she not do that with us?” Ryland asks me. “She puts up such a fight every time she has to go to bed.”

“Because she knows she can walk all over you,” Wyatt says. “Not with me, her favorite.”

“Oh fuck off,” Ryland says as he takes a seat in the chair across from the couch. “And also, thanks for watching her.”

“Not a problem,” Wyatt answers. “She’s so much fun.”

“She is,” Ryland says as he lets out a long breath.

“You hungry?” Wyatt asks. “I can make you a peanut butter and jelly.”

Ryland waves his hand in dismissal. “No, they had food at school. I grabbed some stale-tasting pasta. I’m good.” He looks back and forth between us and asks, “What were you two talking about? Seemed serious when I walked in.”

“Housing,” Wyatt replies before I can tell Ryland it’s nothing.

“Oh yeah, I was thinking about that too,” Ryland says as he sits up now and leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “With you two married now, I was thinking that maybe the guest house isn’t the best place for you.” He drags his hand over his cheek. “I’m thinking about moving Mac and me closer into town.”

“What?” I nearly shout. “You’re going to take her out of her house?”

“I don’t know,” he says, looking truly pained and confused over the thought. “I want to be closer to town. The travel is hard, especially since the school is on the other side of town, and with baseball practices and some late nights, it would be easier to be closer. Then there’s you two. What happens if or when you start a family of your own? You can’t possibly both stay in the guest house forever. You need more space, you deserve more space, and you’re not going to move when this is where you work.”

“But this is Mac’s home,” I say. “Plus, we’re still new. You never know what might happen.”

“Uh, what?” Wyatt asks, making me think about my words. “Thinking about divorce already?”

“No,” I say, realizing what I said. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just . . .” I pause to take a deep breath before I say something else stupid. “We’re in this for Mac. And if that means I share a guest house with my husband, then so be it. I want her to be comfortable.”

“Don’t you think she might be comfortable with a new start?” Ryland asks. “I’ve thought about this for a while, Aubree, before you two even got married. It feels like Mac is just stuck, you know? She’s living her day-to-day, but I don’t know if she’s thriving. Sometimes I wonder if it’s too sad for her to be here. She doesn’t like going in my room. She told me it reminds her too much of her mom. She won’t go near the tire swing that Cassidy pushed her on all the time. She hates going to The Almond Store. I think too much surrounds her, reminding her of what she lost. I don’t want her to lose sight of Cassidy, but there’s something to think about when it comes to how Mac lost her mom. She watched her slowly get sicker and sicker every day. The most recent memories this house holds for Mac are of her mom passing. I don’t think it’s fair for her to have to live through that day in and day out.”

I lean against Wyatt as he drapes his arm over my shoulders. “I guess I never thought about it that way. I just assumed this was the only house she’s ever known so wouldn’t she want to stay here, but yeah . . . you might be right. There are things she won’t do that she used to do all the time.”

Ryland nods. “And there’s a Victorian house in town, across from the park on Bay Breeze Drive, that I’ve been looking at. Three bedrooms, two baths. Has a big backyard for a playhouse for Mac. It could be a fresh start for her, and we could move the things that bring Mac joy over to the new house. Things like the curtains and the pictures, some of the furniture.” He shrugs. “I think she needs it. I know she seems happy, but when I put her to sleep, I can see the sadness in her eyes, and I think that’s one of the reasons she gives me such a hard time when it comes to sleeping. I don’t think she wants to fall into a dream state. I think she’s always dreaming of Cassidy.” Ryland gets choked up, which, in return, constricts my throat. When he looks up at me again, eyes watery, he says, “Will you take the farmhouse, make it your own, and maybe make it a fun place for Mac to be again?”

When he asks like that . . .

“Yes,” I say, forgetting to even consult Wyatt. “Do you want to sell it to me?”

Ryland shakes his head. “I have plenty saved up from when I sold my house before moving here. I also have the life insurance policy from Cassidy and Clarke. There’s plenty to support Mac. I just want to make sure that this house that Cassidy loved so much will be taken care of.”

“It will,” I promise him. “I will be sure to bring joy back into it.”

“We promise,” Wyatt says, feeling the energy of the room and making me fall for him that much more.

“Thank you.” Ryland lets out a long breath. “Okay, fuck, that was heavy. I think I’m going to take a shower and get to bed. I’ll let you know how the house situation goes. I want to take Mac there and make sure she likes it first, feel her out, and see what she says. But thanks for this conversation. It’s been weighing on me.”

“Of course,” I say as I stand, and Wyatt stands as well. “Feel free to talk to us about anything. Don’t let it sit there.”

“I was waiting to get through the wedding. Don’t worry, I can’t hold that shit for too long. I need all the help I can get.” He looks between the two of us. “Hope you guys had a nice time down at the cabin.” He offers us a soft smile and takes off up the stairs.

I take that as our cue to leave as well, so we head out the front door and to the guest house, where Wyatt locks up, and we both get ready for bed in a comfortable silence. Occasionally, his hand runs over my back, along my hip, or across my shoulder blades. Light touches here and there to let me know he’s still here with me.

Once we’re settled, I slip into bed, he checks the door once more, and then slips in behind me. But now there is nothing tentative in the way he pulls me into his warm body.

“When are you going to stop putting the shirt on and come to bed naked?” he asks, his hand moving up my shirt.

“When you start going to bed naked,” I reply as I turn toward him.

“Babe, say the word, and these boxer briefs are gone.”

I smile softly and place my hand on his chest. “Hey, can we talk for a second?”

“You mean before I dive my tongue between your legs? I guess so.”

My cheeks heat from the thought of it, but I remain focused. “About that conversation back there, I, uh, I didn’t mean to make it sound like I didn’t believe in us.”

“You don’t need to explain anything,” he says.

“But I do,” I say as my fingers dance over his short chest hair. “I’m still trying to shake some of the negativity I grew up with and come to terms with these overwhelming emotions between us. Unfortunately, I’m a creature of habit, so anything new in my life is sometimes hard to accept. I need you to know that I really like you, Wyatt. I want to share a house with you if you want to share one with me, and I believe in our bond.”

“I appreciate that,” he says softly. “I feel the same way, Aubree. So don’t ever question that otherwise. I want to be with you, and if that means we’re here in the guest house together, that’s fine. If we move into the farmhouse, that’s great too. I just want to be with you.”

“Same,” I say. “I want to be with you.”

Because I’m falling for you.

Because I can’t imagine what this world would be like now without you by my side.

Because you have brought color back into my life and air into my lungs, and I don’t want to lose that.

“Good,” he says as he pushes me to my back and drags my shirt up and over my head, only to toss it across the room. He brings his large body between my legs, spreads them, then kisses down my stomach, keeping his eyes on mine until he reaches my pussy. That’s when he settles flat on the mattress, spreads me, and laps at my clit.

I sigh into the pillow, grateful for this man and this moment. For this change in my life.

This is all I need.

Him and me.

Just the two of us.

“YOU MISSED A SPOT,” Wyatt says as we walk down the planked sidewalk of Almond Bay, hand in hand.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

He points at my neck. “Clear as day, a bite mark.”

I clamp my hand over my neck. “Oh my God, seriously?”

He lets out a hearty laugh and shakes his head. “No, but could you look more ashamed?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “That’s not funny, Wyatt. And I’m not ashamed. I’m just respectful. It’s not nice to rub our sexual activities in other people’s faces.”

“Some might say it’s actually recommended.”

“No one says that.”

He pulls me in close and kisses the top of my head. “I do. I think it’s very much recommended. If you show off the bite marks, it accomplishes two things. Lets people know you’re taken and shows them you are fully satisfied.”

“Pretty sure the ring on my finger clues them in on me being taken. And the bite mark could possibly portray me as a harlot.”

“Oh fuck that old rhetoric. A bite mark shows you’re having a good fucking time with your brand-new husband.”

I glance up at him and nearly sigh at the smirk he gives me.

This man.

How on earth did it come to this?

Where I’m sighing just from the sight of him?

Where I’m so beyond comfortable that I’d walk around with a bite mark from him?

Where I want nothing more than to stop work on the farm and just spend day in and day out hanging with him, joking with him? Where I know that moving into Cassidy’s home would be like our own fresh and wonderful start.

It wasn’t like that a few weeks ago, but he’s instilled so much trust and comfort within me that it’s changed my entire perspective on life.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

“What makes you think I’m thinking about anything?”

“You have this far-off look in your eyes like you’re contemplating something. What is it?”

We head toward The Cliffs for some lunch and bear claws since Wyatt has been craving them. “Nothing,” I answer.

“Really? You’re going to hide from me after everything we’ve done to each other? Babe, it’s okay to be exposed.”

“Being naked in front of you is way different than showing you my raw emotions. One is easy, the other isn’t.”

“Feeling emotional over me?” he asks, but not in his normal teasing tone.

“Not emotional,” I say. “Just . . .” I shrug as we reach The Cliffs, and he opens the door for me. “I don’t know⁠—”

“Wyatt, there you are.”

Wyatt stops right in the doorway behind me as I look up to find a beautiful blonde standing in front of us. Curvy figure, stunning eyes, she’s the complete opposite of me with her sleek hair and slender legs. Next to her is a short man with red hair and a snarly lip, a sneer that says he’s ready to make someone’s life hell.

“Cadance,” Wyatt says, stunned. “What, uh . . . what are you and Wallace doing here?”

Wallace?

That’s Wallace?

Wyatt’s cousin?

They look nothing alike. Not even close. Somehow, Wyatt got the better genes.

I glance back at the woman, and that’s when her name clicks.

Wait, Cadance, that’s the girl Fallon was talking about?

Wallace steps up and says, “Oh, just in town, heard you got married, which is so interesting since your engagement to Cadance just broke up.”

Umm . . . what?

That can’t be right. That’s something Wyatt would have told me.

I’m about to ask him what’s going on when Wyatt straightens up and says, “Not here.” Then he steps out of the restaurant, and Wallace and Cadance follow. Confused and unsure of what to do, I follow as well until we reach the parking lot of The Cliffs, where Wyatt turns to face both Cadance and Wallace.

“Wyatt,” I ask, feeling my voice shake. “What’s going on?”

“You must be his new bride,” Wallace says while holding out his hand. “I’m Wallace.”

I look at his hand, then back up at Wallace. “Wyatt . . . what are they doing here?”

Wallace shoves his unshaken hand back in his pocket and says, “We’re here to call bullshit on this marriage. Although, it seems like everyone we talk to happens to have a grand opinion of the thriller author, saying how much he’s been in love with the town sweetheart.” Wallace looks me up and down. “I don’t fucking buy it, and from the stunned look on your face, I’m going to guess you had no idea what was happening.”

“Wallace, leave her alone,” Wyatt says.

Cadance takes that moment to step up to Wyatt and place her hand on his chest. My eyes narrow in on the touch, and I’m simultaneously ready to rip her away and throw up from the rapid emotions running through me.

“Wyatt, I know I hurt you, but marrying her . . . we all know it was a revenge marry. You can’t possibly be serious about this.”

Insult rips through me as I take a step back. What does she mean by “marrying her”? What’s so wrong with me that the possibility of me marrying Wyatt seems so far-fetched?

Sure, I might not be as well put together as she is.

And my hair isn’t as sleek.

My body isn’t as curvy.

But . . . but . . .

My dad’s voice pops into my head.

You will never amount to anything.

You’re a waste of my time.

Could you do something with your hair? You look like a drowned rat.

I’ll be shocked if anyone ever finds you attractive . . .

I bite down on the corner of my lip as I take a step back, my most personal insecurities taking hold of me as my lungs grow tight, my throat constricts, and my deepest hatred of myself rises.

“I am serious,” Wyatt says, moving Cadance away and making eye contact with me. “Aubree, don’t listen to them.”

“Don’t listen to them?” I ask as I take another step back. “Who should I listen to? You?”

“I wouldn’t,” Wallace says. “He’s only using you to get what he wants. Did you even know he was set to marry Cadance two months ago? That the only reason he didn’t was because Cadance didn’t think she could trust him at the time.”

“What?” Wyatt says, looking toward Cadance. “That’s why you fucking left me?”

My stomach grows sick with anxiety and uncertainty.

“You were off and on the whole week,” Cadance says. “Anytime I tried to talk to you about our marriage, about our future, about your past, you evaded me with answers that were never deep. Never to the point. You beat around the bush about everything. How could I trust you if I felt like I didn’t even know you?”

And the truth in that feels so freaking real because that’s what he’s done to me. He’s casually moved around real answers for me. He’s skated on the surface, never giving me his full self, hence why I didn’t know about Cadance. Who he was fucking engaged to only two months ago. What the hell? How did he think that the past can stay in the past when it’s only been weeks since they separated?

He wants me to tell him about my emotions, about my past, but doesn’t want to return with the same respect? Instead, I have to be confronted about it in town, making me feel so much worse than I could imagine.

“That’s bullshit,” he says, arguing with her. But why? Why is he arguing? Is it because he still has feelings for her? I mean, he has to, right? He was going to marry this woman two months ago.

Two freaking months.

That means . . . when he came to Almond Bay, he was fresh on heartbreak. He never showed it. Never spoke about it.

“I talked to you all the fucking time,” Wyatt says. “I told you everything.”

Well, at least he talked to someone.

“It was surface level, Wyatt.”

“The fuck it was,” he says, his anger something I’ve never seen before.

“Then why didn’t you fight for me?” she asks, folding her arms over her chest.

“Because you left me the night before our wedding,” he nearly shouts. “You said you weren’t in love with me. You spoke nothing about trust. Why the hell am I going to chase someone who doesn’t share the same feelings as me?”

So he was in love with her.

Maybe he still is.

From the anger on his face and the protruding veins in his neck, I’m going to guess that he’s still in love, which makes me feel . . . stupid.

Incredibly dumb.

Incredibly stupid.

Incredibly naïve.

Here I am, falling for a man who is . . . as Wallace put it, using me. Sure, he’s told me he likes me, and he’s treated me so well, but in the grand scheme of things, that’s what this entire situation has been, him using me, and I guess . . . me using him.

Feelings were never supposed to get involved, and I let them.

I let him take my heart.

I let him hold it carelessly in his hand.

And right now, as I stare at the man I love who is staring at the woman he loves . . . all I can think is how stupid I am for thinking this could be any more than what it actually is.

“I loved you, Wyatt. I was just scared.”

Wyatt sifts his hand through his hair as he contemplates what he’s probably going to do with all of this. Well, I’ll make it easy on him because I never should have gotten involved in the first place. This whole idea was stupid.

So with a tear falling down my cheek, I turn away from them and head toward The Almond Store.

I’m nearly out of the parking lot when I hear Wyatt call out, “Aubree, wait.”

But I don’t. I keep moving forward. I need to get away from him, from this. Anything to hold my heart together by a thread.

I’m just about to cross the street when my hand is tugged back, and I spin toward Wyatt, right into his chest.

“Aubree, don’t leave.”

I push away just enough to look up at him. And as I stare into the eyes of the man I’ve found such comfort in, I almost feel like a piece of me is breaking apart. Because I never expected him to hurt me like this.

On a deep breath, I say, “Wyatt, I think it’s best that you sort out your issues with her before you even think about speaking with me.”

“Aubree, there’s nothing to sort out.”

I pull away from him and say, “There is. It’s obvious in the way you reacted. Maybe if you told me about her, about your feelings, about your almost marriage, I would have a touch more understanding and empathy, but right now, I can’t even look at you.”

I try to walk away, but he grabs me again. “Aubree, they’re doing this on purpose. They came here to manipulate the situation. We can’t let them.”

“We?” I ask, looking him dead in the eyes. “As far as I’m concerned, there’s no we between us.”

“Aubree, don’t,” he says, his eyes pleading. “Please don’t walk away. Let me sort this out.”

“Sort it out in your own time, without me.” And with that, I snap away from him and jog across the street, right toward The Almond Store.

I don’t bother to look back. I can’t.

Not when I’m minutes from falling apart. Instead, I charge right into the store, the overhead bell ringing above me. Luckily, no one is in the store because when I make eye contact with Hattie, I burst into tears.