What the hell is this guy’s problem? He’s clearly not reading the room and my desirenotto do that. Plus, Regan turned down his engagement before I was even in the picture. This has nothing to do with Regan and me and everything to do with the fact that she doesn’t want him.
I take off my hat and rub my scalp. “Yeah, well, we’ll see how it goes.”
Nodding to escape, I make a beeline for old Smythe. Because even a conversation with the town’s resident jokester sounds better than another second spent with Declan, a guy who seems to still be pining aftermy girl.
Chapter 23: Regan
Lydia squeezes my shoulders affectionately, her grin so wide it practically lights up the room. “This is going so well. You did amazing, Regan,” she gushes.?
I smile, nodding as I take in the scene around us. The brewery is buzzing with laughter and easy conversation, the kind of hum that fills a room when people are genuinely enjoying themselves. The soft glow from the string lights we hung up in the bar overhead casts a warm, golden hue over the gathering and the sage and blue colored accents bring in the colors for our wedding.
It’s exactly what I envisioned: an open dinner before the real event, a chance to celebrate the newest, Marshall business venture, let loose, have some fun, and feed the community all for free.
All the drinks and food are on the Marshall family house tab. We’d invited our core group of family and friends, butbeyond that, it’s open to anyone curious about the property, our businesses, or considering hiring us for their own wedding. And to my delight, people have shown up today in the hundreds. So many that they’re spilling outside into the outdoor seating area, too.
“The real question is where did all these brides come from? Did everyone decide to get engaged when they heard the Marshall’s were starting a wedding business?” my sister-in-law Rae jokes, sliding up next to us with a glass of bourbon in her hand.
“I have no idea but it’s looking good for business.”
My gaze drifts across the room and catches on Hayes the way it has been all night. He’s seated next to my dad at one of the corner tables, one long leg casually draped over the other, cowboy boots planted firm, his hat tilted just right. He looks like he stepped straight out of a romance novel, the kind you devour in one sitting with a pint of ice cream and a heart full of hope that you’ll find a man like that someday who’s be just as wild for you as the west. He’s at ease, listening to my dad chatter away, a glass of our family’s whiskey nestled in the crook of his arm, his smile lazy and effortless.
I admire the way his eyes crinkle at the edges, showing his age and the years that he’s spent living hard. The way that his broad frame suffocates the chair, leaving nothing visible and the way he leans in when my dad whispers something to him that I know must be about me because his eyes slowly turn to find me, mid-conversation, and his gaze snags on mine. A wink. Quick, sharp, and it sends a flush crawling up my neck like a live wire because I shouldn’t be having these thoughts about my fake husband right now.
“Wow, the chemistry between you two is hot,” Rae teases, fanning herself with her hands dramatically.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, but I’m smiling back at Hayes like a fool, trying to play it cool, even though last night’s memories keep creeping into the edges of my mind. I’ve been pretending it was casual because that’s the safest play. I know Hayes isn’t the“let’s be in a relationship”type, hell, he isn’t the “let’s get married type either,”but my body hasn’t gotten the memo that last night should be just a one-time thing. Especially when he brings me to orgasm faster than any other man ever has and looks like...that.
But I remind my head what my heart doesn’t know and that’s that I really don’t even know Hayes. I’m living with a man that I don’t know anything about except what I was told seven years ago.
“Hi, excuse me,” a voice chirps, pulling me back to reality.
I turn to find a bright, blonde woman with striking green eyes beaming at me as she rocks back and forth on her heels.
“Hi,” I respond, my smile automatic and easy.
“This has been so much fun. Such a great way to test out the food and drinks ahead of time.”
“Thank you. Are you engaged?” I ask, noticing the soft, white sundress she’s wearing.
She nods enthusiastically and extends her hand, showing off a dazzling diamond ring that catches the light like it’s part of the decor.
“My fiancé is over there,” she says, gesturing toward an older man deep in conversation with my brother Cash, likely hashing out food and catering details for their big day.
How amazing would it be if this was our opportunity to book our first wedding? I decide to turn the charm up a notch to convince her to choose us for her important day.
“It’s beautiful,” I say genuinely because it is. Might not be my style, but I can appreciate a pretty, and expensive, ring when I see one.
Has it bothered me that Hayes and I tied the knot without a ring? Not really. Everyone knows it was part of the wild stipulations Mrs. Mayberry included in the property agreement. But moments like this? Yeah, they sting a little. Because deep down, I ache for the kind of ring that symbolizes forever with someone who actually wants forever with me. It wouldn’t have to be big, nothing flashy, but something that tells the outside world that I’m his and he’s mine.
“Thank you,” she replies, her smile warm and genuine. “I’m really excited to see the venue tomorrow. How fun is it that you and Hayes are putting on a fake wedding just to show us brides how it could be? Well, without the fake vows, of course.” She laughs a little too easily.
I nod, swallowing the lump that wants to form in my throat at the reminder.Yes, this is just all pretend, remember that, Regan, my brain tells my heart. “It was Hayes’s sister’s idea.”
She smiles and nods. “I’m not surprised. Doesn’t seem like something Hayes would want to do.”
And isn’t that the truth, but that comment gives me some pause because how does she know what Hayes would want to do? Something about the way she says it is familiar. It’s as if... she knows him?
“Oh... have you two met before?” I ask, trying to keep my voice casual, like my heart isn’t about to sprint out of my chest.
