Page 58 of The Pretenders of Copper County
“Um. What?”
“My hobby. I like cars. My dad was pretty handy with them—with all kinds of machinery, really—and he helped me fix up my first car. It was a 1999 Toyota Camry, but we swapped in a 3.5 liter V6 engine, added headers and a high-flow catalytic converter, and a cat-back exhaust. That thingroared. When I got my Challenger—” He tilted his head toward the car parked outside. “—I always planned to trick it out. Customize it. I haven’t made time to do that yet, but I will.”
For the first time, I understood why Reed sometimes stared at me uncomprehendingly when I was speaking plain English. “Car” was not a dialect I spoke.
I didn’t mind, though. The fact that he was sharing something about himself—anything at all—made me grin at him dopily.
“That’s cool! So cool. Thank you for telling me.”
“And my government name is… is Ernest Reed Sunday.”
“Ernest,” I whispered, delighted. “Really?”
“It’s not the kind of thing a person would make up, Chris. No one who doesn’t share my DNA knows that name,” he warned, eyes narrowed. “And I swear to God, you’d better not use it. Five siblings, remember? I’ve heard it all. I do not respond to Ernie, Ern, or Nessy. I will not find it amusing if you ask me where Bert is. I will not laugh if you sayEarnestly,Reed?—”
Pressing my lips together, I attempted to look solemn and chastened.
“But I figure that’s a… a thing a husband should know,” he concluded.
There was no way this subject would come up even if we stayed undercover for the rest of our lives. No reason I needed to know this information, except that Reed wantedme to know. No reason to give it to me, except that he wanted me to have it.
To know him, at least a little.
And I would treasure it like the gift it was.
“It is,” I croaked. “Super husband-y info. You can trust me, Reed.”
He nodded and turned toward the kitchen, only to stop and turn back once more. “Oh, and Chris?”
“Yes?”
“I’m starting to think my favorite scent might be vanilla.” His gaze softened, and he winked. “Sometimes, but not always, mixed with lime soda.”
I blinked, not really understanding what he meant, but before I could ask, Reed grinned—a full-on devastating grin that made my heart pound and my brain hum happily—and I decided I could ask him about it later.
Maybe after an episode ofJohn Ruffian…
Or ten.
CHAPTER TEN
REED
“If you don’t comewith me to the hardware store, you know they’re all going to assume you’ve died of lake plague or something.” I cast a glance at the gorgeous man in my passenger’s seat as we drove down the winding two-lane road that led from Wrigley Campground to O’Leary.
Fall had come on for real now. The trees were a riot of color, and the distinct chill in the air made last weekend’s warmth a distant memory. Chris was back in the hand-knit sweater he’d worn the first time he’d ridden beside me, but this time, his sunlight-dappled hair was a little damp from the shower we’d shared, and his cheeks were pink beneath his glasses… probably because that shower had involved blowjobs, and he’d been replaying it in his mind, if I knew my husband.
Fakehusband.
Protect—
Never mind.
I couldn’t get too up in arms about what I called him since my dick had been in his mouth half an hour ago, and I could still taste him on my lips. Especially when just thesight of him made me more than a little tempted to pull over and repeat the experience.
It turned out the need to have Chris in my bed—and shower, and sofa, and once yesterday up against a tree in the woods—hadn’t gone away immediately after I’d given in to the temptation of him. The way Chris pulled at me was like gravity. You could fight it—and I’d tried—but it was a losing battle when your body knew exactly where it needed to be.
I mean,for now.
