Page 41 of Perfect Scandal


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“Woman, unless youwantme to go caveman, you’d better use that mouth to eat and not flirt.”

I giggle as heat creeps into my cheeks.Okay, then. “So, um, you must’ve left the ranch early today?”

He nods and gathers another bite. “At noon. Kaden and Ben are keeping an eye on things for a couple days.”

“A couple days? Does that mean—”

“You’re not getting rid of me when this food is gone?” A wide grin spreads amid his stubble. “I got an overnight bag in the truck, babe.”

A weekend all alone with my hunky cowboy? Hot damn.

“But that’s where the annulment papers are, huh?”

He hesitates before he nods. “Yeah, but I was hoping we could put that off until I go.”

We share a glance, the moment heavy with conflicting emotions. Gratitude for the time we have together. Regret for going about things the way we have. Uncertainty, and maybe even fear, for what’s to come.

Some things we’ll get sorted out, and some we won’t.

But we have two days together, and I fully intend to make the most of them.

* * *

DEAN

Every minute I spend with Tessa makes me hate myself a little more for going through with that wedding ceremony in Vegas.

We had so much fun that night, and she was so friggin’ enchanting that I would have given her anything she’d asked for. If she’d wanted the moon, I would’ve roped it. A million dollars? I would’ve cleaned out my bank accounts trying to win it. To get hitched just to see if it could be done? Got the marriage license to prove it. It seemed like a harmless adventure at the time. Something we’d laugh about in the morning and remedy before noon.

I didn’t expect to enjoy waking up with her so much. And I sure as hell didn’t anticipate that she’d feel so damn good in my arms, or that she’d make me start thinking about shit I’ve never let myself think about before.

Like a real marriage. Hell, even a real relationship.

Maybe it’s seeing everyone around me settling down that’s made me soft—like I told Tessa would never happen. Maybe it’s getting older that’s making me restless, too.

Or maybe it’s just the woman curled up in my arms and completely rapt in the gruesome details of the 1970s killing spree playing out on her TV.

Yes, she’s young. But she’s smart and savvy, too, and her sunshine is the kind I could bask in every day and never tire of. I threw caution to the wind and married her because I wanted to savor that warmth a little longer. And now I’m addicted to the feeling, despite knowing our time together will end almost as quickly as it began.

“Look at that house,” she says as the camera pans around inside a creepy plantation-style home where the killer claimed he murdered four women. “Why would anyone in their right mind go in there with him?”

“Fifty years ago, it was probably immaculate.”

“No way.” She shakes her head, and the top of her messy bun brushes my chin. “That house has been haunted for hundreds of years. You can’t tell me otherwise.”

“Not a fan of ghosts?”

“Oh no—I love that stuff. I might have a slight obsession with ghost hunter shows, too.”

I give a light snort. “Ah, so that’s how you’re gonna die, huh? You’re gonna follow some creepy dude into a freaky house and become his demon sacrifice?”

She elbows me playfully. “Hey, at least I’d go to my death having fun. You know, until the actual sacrifice part.”

Not surprised. Not surprised one bit.

“What about you? Do believe in ghosts?” She pulls back and studies me.

“I’m thirty-two, babe.”