She nods, leaning in slightly as if sharing a juicy secret. “Back when he was on the circuit, we had a wild night together. Best fuck of my life. No one has ever come close to comparing since him.”
I blink. Did she really just say that to me? My mouth opens, a soundless gasp hovering in the air because how do you even respond to that? This woman, proudly flashing an engagement ring that could double as a disco ball, has just declared my fake husband the pinnacle of her sexual escapades. Meanwhile, her actual fiancé is over there, probably gushing about their love story and color-coordinated napkins.
“I... I see,” I manage, my voice tight. I can feel Lydia bristle next to me as she casually slides out of the conversation like the whole thing is making her uncomfortable.
Sure, Hayes and I never pretended we were each other’s firsts. He’d told me all about his days on the circuit that first night we hooked up, and it’s not like I lived like a nun either. But hearing it from her? While we’re at our fake rehearsal dinner, surrounded by friends and family? It hits different because right now I don’t need another reminder about how I’m just like her. A woman he’s slept with in passing, who will one day look back on our time together and saybest fuck of my life.
Before I can process that, Hayes materializes at my side, his arm sliding around my waist much too comfortably. He gives the woman that I was chatting with a nod, cool and indifferent, like she’s just another face in the crowd before turning that megawatt smile on me.
“Missed ya, baby,” he murmurs in my ear.
“Hi, Hayes,” the woman purrs, tilting her head just enough to let her hair fall perfectly over her pretty face as she tries to draw his attention.
He offers nothing more than another nod. No recognition, no flicker of memory. Her pout is brief, but she recovers quickly, standing straighter as if that didn’t faze her at all when I know better.
He’s the best fuck of her life.
No one else has been able to compare.
She brought that up while planning her own wedding to another man.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow at the wedding,” the woman says. “Nice chatting with you, Regan. Good to see youagain, Hayes,” she adds with a sly smile, her voice dripping with that last little drop of ‘remember me?’ Then she sashays away, leaving a trail of smugness in her wake.
I glance up at Hayes, my brows raised. His eyes narrow slightly, and I can practically see the mental Rolodex flipping. Then it clicks, even if he doesn’t fully remember her, he realizes who she must be: A woman that he’s slept with in the past.
“Don’t,” he says sternly, his grip tightening on my hip.
I can’t help it. I smile sweetly, stepping out of his hold. “What? I didn’t say anything.”
“Regan, I said don’t.”
“What? It’s not like you haven’t told me about your escapades. Hundreds of women, right? No big deal. I was nearly engaged once. I’ve slept with other people too. This is all fake anyway. She was sweet. Really. Might be our first wedding we book at the new venue.”
My voice is light, airy even, but inside? A tornado. I draw in a breath, reeling my emotions in because what in the world is going on with me? I knew Hayes was only marrying me for the property, and that’s the only reason I married him. What we did last night meant nothing. Absolutely nothing and I have no right to be even the slightest bit of jealous.
I hate that I feel this way. I hate that a small part of me wishes this wasn’t fake. I’m embarrassed by my overreaction toher comments. I stand up taller and smile because I’m fine. I’ve reined it in. This is fine.
“Regan,” he warns again, that growly edge creeping in.
I laugh, shaking my head like the absurdity of it all is just too much.
“What a mess. This isn’t a real marriage, Hayes. I really don’t care. You know what, we should probably start planning our divorce once this wedding is over tomorrow. We can discuss plans for dividing the land and the business so that you can keep the barn, and I can keep the cottages.”
He shakes his head. “Regan, I have no idea who that woman is. You knew I was a wild, single guy when I was on the circuit.”
“Totally, and I was just another one of those experiences for you. I had my wild times too,” I shoot back, my smile plastered on even though something tightens in my chest.
He growls, actually growls, and before I can blink, he grabs my hips pulling me tightly against his chest. I try to wiggle free and start to wave at Declan across the room, but Hayes’ grip tightens, tugging me away from moving toward him.
I yelp. “Hayes! What are you doing?”
His eyes flash with something primal, something possessive.
“Taking my wife home so that she stops spiraling.”
Chapter 24: Hayes
As soon as my truck pulls up to the Mayberry Manor house Regan’s out the door. No hesitation, no glancing back. Just her cowgirl boots hitting the dirt, her spine stiff, her shoulders tight like she’s trying to make sense of all that’s raging in her head.?
