Page 70 of Good as Gold
“Rory.” I sigh. “They have therapists for this.”
He shrugs. “Story’s almost over. I was a dick to her. I got defensive. Didn’t make an effort. Felt like she should just love me anyway—like we promised. Till death do us part, you know?”
Ouch. “That’s rough, man. Marriage is hard. Probably why I’ve never been brave enough to try it.”
Rory shakes his head. “You probably look at me and think—I never would have fucked that up, you dumbass. Best girl in the world and look what happened.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” I insist. “Fucked up some stuff this year myself.”
“Then you know,” Rory says.
“I’m afraid I do.”
* * *
The night finally ends, and we ride home along a sleepy highway in silence. When I drop him off, Rory asks me if I can hire him again, and I guiltily say yes before the truck door slams.
In the morning, I wake up to more signs of summer in the orchard. The trees are bursting with pear blossoms and happy bees.
As the season progresses, I’ve begun to feel weirdly settled.
I’ve learned how to sleep through the rooster’s noise. I still hear him at dawn, but now I roll over and go back to sleep. And when I lie in my trailer at night, I’m serenaded by the frogs and the owls. With the windows open, the sound of nature is surprisingly loud.
The only thing that keeps me awake is that Leila is still avoiding me. It’s been a couple of weeks now. Maybe I’m not the only one with an intimacy hangover. But I don’t know what to do about it.
Then one Sunday night—after another long weekend of pouring beers in the beer wagon—Alec calls me from the bar. “Hey, dude. You busy?”
“Why?” I ask warily. “This was my night off.”
He chuckles. “Calm down. I’m not asking you to work. But there’s a certain friend of yours sitting at the bar lookin’ sad.”
“Hell, is it Rory?”
“No way. I wouldn’t bother you about that. It’s Leila. She just looks like she could use a friend.”
“Oh.” I rub my forehead, wondering what she’d think if I turned up to talk to her. Then I have an unsettling thought. “Hey, Alec, what’s she drinking?”
“Gin and tonic. She’s only on her second, so this isn’t an intervention.”
“Cool. Thanks, man.” I’m already on my feet. “I think I’m in the mood to have a drink myself.”
He laughs. “I bet.”
CHAPTER26
LEILA
I turn another page, but the billionaire in my latest book is getting on my last nerve. He’s obviously lusting after the spunky female yacht captain, but he refuses to admit it.
Just bang her already, dude. I need the distraction.
He hems and haws for another two pages, before he finally pushes her up against a cabinet of life preservers and kisses the hell out of her.
Thank you, sir. Much appreciated.
Someone sits down on the barstool beside me. In my peripheral vision, I can feel him checking me out. But nope. I’m only interested in fictional men tonight, and it took hours for this book to get spicy, so I turn the page and ignore him.
The billionaire slips his hand into the heroine’s panties. “You’re so wet for me,” he says, and I almost roll my eyes.That’s because you dragged this out for fifty extra pages.
