I shake my head. “I don’t think she’s ready to start booking. There’s still a lot that needs done.”
“Really? The awning over at the Marshall’s farm looks done. Honestly, all you’d need to do is clean up the pond, spruce up the cottages, mow the lawn, and you’d be good to go. Easy thirty, forty grand.”
“Shit. You say that like it’s simple.”
She grins. “I mean, there’s obviously more to planning a wedding, but that’s why you hire a planner. Y’all are just providing the amenities. I bet the first couple who gets married you could offer a discount to, just to draw in attention. Oh…” Her voice drifts, and that look crosses her face like she just got a brilliant idea—it’s the one that says whatever’s coming next, I’m gonna hate.
But before she can drop the bomb, the screen door creaks open, and Regan steps out onto the porch looking like a fucking dream wrapped in a tight pair of denim shorts, a soft, pink cropped t-shirt that shows a good inch of her lower waist, and her dark auburn hair twisted into a messy bun. There should be some kind of rule in place that says you shouldn’t be able to fake marry a woman that pretty and be forced to live with her and not touch her.
“Hey, Scarlett. The bed’s made up. Gotta warn you, though, that mattress isn’t doing anyone any favors. It’s on my list to replace along with the ones in the cottages. I’ll place an order where Hayes did, see if I can hitch it to the same delivery that’s happening today.”
“You really don’t have to do that. I’m sure I’ve slept on worse,” Scarlett responds.
Regan shakes her head, smiling like it’s no big deal. “I’m getting a new one too. At this point, might as well replace them all so that when we finally book our first wedding, the beds will be comfortable.”
“For the bride and groom to break in,” Scarlett snorts. I tip my head up to the ceiling of the porch and let out a groan. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to hearing my little sister talk like that.
Regan laughs and steps further onto the porch, brushing her hands on her shorts. Tight shorts. Yeah, I noticed. I noticed the second she pulled up in that damn golf cart. Regan’s curvy in all the right ways—big, round, perky breasts, a tiny waist that flares into wide hips and an ass I distinctly remember having my hands on and spanking. Hard.
But she’s different now. Grown into herself. More confident, more... mature. And damn if I can’t stop noticing. And I can tell she’s been noticing me too. How long can we possibly go being married to each other and living together before we both act on these impulses?
Do I normally go shirtless when I’m at my place of living alone? Absolutely. But did I consider putting a shirt on now that I live with a woman? Sure, and then I remembered it’s Regan. The woman who’s seen every inch of my cock and taken it like a good girl after telling me not to fall in love with her. And so, I decided I’d return the favor to her. If she wants to wear tiny little outfits that keep my hard 24/7, I’m going shirtless. All the damn time.
Her eyes drop to my chest on cue, and they linger there. I flex and squeeze my pecs just to make her eyes snap back to mine with a smile and an eye roll.
“So,” Scarlett says, glancing between us, “I was just talking to my brother about your plans for the wedding business.”
“Yeah, it’s coming together slowly,” she says with a smile.
“You should do a trial run,” Scarlett says, her grin sharp like she’s already three steps ahead.
Regan taps her chin thoughtfully. “That’s a good idea. I’m sure I could find a young couple in town looking to get married who’s struggling to pay for a big wedding. We could comp it or offer a serious discount, though I’d hate for it to be a total disaster while we work out the kinks. Oh, God, that would be embarrassing if we ruin their wedding day with our test run.”
Scarlett’s grin widens, and she starts nodding slowly, like she’s winding up for the punchline I’m already dreading.
“Scarlett…” I warn, because I think I know where she’s headed now, but it’s useless. Once my sister has an idea that she thinks is brilliant in her head, there’s no stopping her.
“Oh, come on, Hayes. Y’all didn’t have a proper wedding. Plus, I’m only here for a week. Don’t you want youronlysister at your first marriage?” She shoots me a look. “We could get Seth to come up too if we do it on a weekday.”
Regan’s head swivels between us while I clench my jaw tight.
“Am I missing something?” she asks.
I sigh, tilting my face toward the sky because fake marrying someone once was bad enough. But fake marrying the same person again, this time with an audience, vows, and God knows what else? Well, that sounds like a special kind of torture.
“You two,” Scarlett says, pointing like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You should be the trial run. Get married again but this time while I’m here.”
Regan’s eyes widen, flicking from me to Scarlett like she’s trying to process her suggestion. Then after a way too long pause, she says, “Wow… that’s actually a great idea. Then we wouldn’t risk ruining someone’s real wedding. Plus, it’d be a chance to showcase the venue and our vendors to the town. Maybe even open it up for everyone to see. We can have the brewery and eggfarm cater the meal; the distillery will provide the spirits…” Her voice trails off, then she bursts out laughing—full-on belly laugh, clutching her sides, doubling over.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe you suggested that. That’s the last thing Hayes would ever do.” She wipes tears from her eyes, still chuckling like it’s the funniest thing she’s heard all year.
It pisses me off more than it should that she thinks so little of me.
“Let’s do it,” I snap, the words coming out before I can stop them.
Regan’s laughter dies instantly. “What?” she whispers, eyes wide, face frozen mid-smile.
“It’ll be good for both of us. A win for the wedding business profits me too. This will bring more people to see what I’m doing with the horses, and I get a cut of the proceeds from the wedding.” I add that last part like it matters but I couldn’t give a shit about the money. I’m set for life from the endorsements and sponsorships that I racked up during my bull riding days. Plus, I’m one of the only doctors in this small town and am paid well by the community hospital. Money will never be an issue for me, thankfully.
