Page 58 of The Marriage Deal
“Okay.” I stand with my plate, which still has half my omelet.
“Not hungry?”
My stomach is in too many knots to eat. I don’t tell him that, though. No way.
“Not really.”
Briggs holds out a hand for my plate. I give it to him with a curious frown and watch as even more knots twist my insides as the man lifts my fork and finishes off my omelet.
It’s ridiculous, but the act feels intimate and leaves me uncomfortably speechless.
When I find my words, I mutter, “I’m going to take a shower.”
Briggs’ eyes drop again to the little satin housecoat I’ve taken to wearing. It doesn’t do a whole lot to cover my pajamas, but it’ssomething.
I clear my throat but say nothing as I turn on my heel and head for my room. I need a cold shower STAT.
Thankfully the townemploys someone to water the flowers. I just mosey on by with my snippers and snip. I finish the days deadheading in the same park where Briggs kissed me. Senior is laying in the grass under the shade of a big Russian Olive tree, the silvery leaves shimmering in a gentle breeze. He may be a dog, but there’s a smile on his face. One of contentment and peace. His eyes are half-mast, and his paws are stretched out like he knows he’s finally safe. Finally home.
My heart feels big and achy and overly emotional as I take a moment to watch him. I’ll never leave him. No matter what happens or where I land, I’ll land somewhere that is safe for him.
Hooking my hand around the handle of my bucket of dead heads, I call, “Senior. Come here, boy.”
He doesn’t make me ask twice and we walk side by side to my car. I open the back door for Senior to jump in, and wince at the state of my backseat. Then, because I’m me, I close the door.
As I slide into the driver’s seat, I pull my phone from my pocket to see that I missed a message from Briggs.
Briggs: Did you get the invitations to the post office?
Me: Perhaps…
I’m about to toss my phone onto the passenger seat when it buzzes again.
Briggs: Lilah.
Me: Briggs.
I giggle, because I can just picture the man’s face right now.
My phone begins to buzz. On repeat.
The man is calling me. I giggle again and Senior shifts in the back seat to see what’s up. I swipe and say, “You’re calling me?”
“You’re being you, so yeah.”
“I’m being me?” I repeat. “What does that mean?”
“Lilah.”
I settle into my seat with an amused grin on my face, “Yes, soon-to-be husband?”
He sighs, long and heavy. I imagine he’s rubbing his fingers into his brow, giving his head a weary shake. “Did you get the invitations sent out?”
“Have no fear, the town will watch me saddle myself to you in exactly four weeks. Do you think it’s too soon? I mean, even I’d be questioning thewhy.”
“If people are focused on why we’re getting married so quickly, they’ll be less focused on the changes happening to Sunset Falls.”
I sigh. “I guess.”
