Page 105 of Hot Lap
I blink. “That’s it?”
“She was my only actual girlfriend.”
I straighten because I want him to see my face and know I’m not mocking him. “You only dated one woman before me?”
“Dated, yeah. There were others. Casual. But nothing serious.”
I process that. “Peony.” I lift my left hand to display the diamond ring. “Previous almost owner of this, right?”
“Yeah. Peony Jones-Musgrove.”
I rest my hand on his chest. “Tell me about her.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
He’s quiet a beat. “She was very… missionary when it came to sex.”
I snort. “You’re not.”
“She wasn’t my choice.”
My head tilts. “Wha? What does that mean?”
He scrubs a hand over his face. “Graham selected her for me. She came from the right family, had the right education, a good image. Polished. No history. She wasacceptable.”
“Ooooh. I see. And Daddy Dearest thinks I’mnot.”
“He thinks you’re good fodder for shitty TV.”
I smile, the cat that ate the canary. “He’s gonna be so disappointed when I don’t break apart.”
Reece cups my cheek. “I think you already rewrote the show.”
I lean into him, lips brushing his. Then I rest my head on his shoulder and trace the edge of his jaw. “I have another question.”
“Uh-oh.”
“It’s serious.”
“Hit me.”
I lift my head again. “What was our wedding like?”
He laughs. “You really don’t remember?”
I scrunch up my nose. “I remember gin and Mario Kart. That’s pretty much it.”
He shifts beneath me, his grin lazy and a little crooked. “Okay… picture a gas station designed by Liberace.”
“Oh no.”
“Neon hearts that flickered like a horror movie. Faded silk flowers in wreaths that looked like someone murdered Cupid in one of those dollar stores. And a cherub with one wing duct-taped back on.”
I blink. “You’re making this up.”
He grins. “I wish. Hector was our witness-slash-spiritual advisor, and you told the receptionist we were on a mission from Goat Yoga.”
