“I shouldn’t kiss you.” My voice is rough as my gaze flicks between her lips and eyes.
Her mouth parts, her breath slow and unsteady. “Yeah. That sounds like a bad idea.”
I study her, memorizing every detail. The shape of her mouth. The way her chest rises and falls beneath that white tank top. Her nipples, hard and peaked, because her body can’t fight this any more than mine can, but I have to. I need to stop this.
“I won’t,” I whisper.
She nods. “Okay.” Her voice is quiet as she wets her lips with her tongue. “I think we’re just… emotional. It’s been a long day. And you’re probably exhausted.”
“Yeah.”
That’s it.
Silence stretches between us, thick and heavy, until I drop my head and press a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. Then I step back, releasing her chin, watching her like I’m trying to convince myself this is the right thing to do and what’s between us right now is nothing more than horny energy and confused exhaustion.
This is our wedding night.A wedding night that isn’t supposed to mean anything.
“Alright, good night, Regan.”
She watches me intently then smiles softly. “Good night, Hayes. Sleep well.”
Chapter 16: Regan
Weird night.?
I stretch my arms overhead and twist from side to side, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. When it’s ready, I grab my favorite oat milk and pour just a splash into the cracked mug I brought over from my dad’s place last night. I stare down into the dark swirls, hoping they’ll somehow explain what the hell happened between Hayes and me last night.
After that…momentwe shared together, he’d retreated upstairs without another word and probably passed out the second his head hit the pillow because I never heard his door open again.
Meanwhile I’d packed away the old Mayberry photos I’d been looking at, tucked myself onto the new couch Colt moved in for me earlier that day, and stared at the ceiling unblinking.
There’d been something between us when he’d wrapped me in his arms to comfort me. A pause heavy enough to toe the linebetween what we should and shouldn’t be doing. At least, Ithink there was. For a second, it felt like he was going to kiss me.
Would that have been a bad idea? Probably.
Did I still want him to? Absolutely.
I’ve been attracted to Hayes since the first day I laid eyes on him seven years ago. And like a good whiskey, time has only made him hotter, steadier, more…him. I can’t explain it. He’s changed and somehow stayed the same. That age gap between us? Irrelevant. He’s got that rough-around-the-edges cowboy thing going for him, like life carved him out of something solid and forgot to sand down the sharp parts.
But he’s haunted and even a bit tortured. I can see it in the way his jaw clenches, the distant look that sometimes creeps into his eyes. Like he’s got some stories that explain his behavior and hesitancy towards women and relationships. I don’t push. I get it. Some wounds aren’t meant to be shared with strangers. And technically, that’s what we still are to each other and likely the way we’ll stay. Which is why I’m here, at five in the morning, rubbing sleep from my eyes and nursing coffee like it’s a lifeline and not spending my first morning as a married woman in bed with him.
I’m about to head over to the family’s egg farm because Cash sent me a crisis text as soon as he woke up, something about one of his older hens breaking their leg. Poor guy treats his chickens like royalty, even after their egg-laying days are over. His heart’s as soft as the down on their feathers and his chickens are like his children.
A knock on the front, screen door jolts me out of my thoughts. I straighten my shirt, assuming it’s the realtor dropping off the barn keys I requested, along with spares for the cottages that our future wedding guests will grace with their presence, butinstead, it’s a woman. Pretty. Dark brown hair, bright green eyes, holding a bag in her hand like she isn’t lost at all.
“Hi, can I help you?” I ask, voice still scratchy from sleep as I open the front door.
She sizes me up with a grin. “Whoa. You’resuperpretty. No wonder Hayes is trying to fight the legitimacy of your marriage.”
My brows drop.Uh, what?
I blink, trying to reboot my brain. “Have we met before?” Did Hayes tell this woman about our arrangement?
She steps forward, thrusting out a hand like we’re old friends. “Scarlett Walker. Hayes’s little sister from South Carolina.”
Oh. Okay.Thatmakes more sense. Slightly.
I shake her hand, trying to play it cool. “Nice to meet you. I think he mentioned having a sister. I’m Regan Marshall.”
