Page 82 of Duke
I discreetly adjust my jeans underneath the table. Seeing this girl smile—enjoy herself after last night’s tears—is definitely gonna get me hard.
What can I say? I like it when she’s happy.
“Guess pregnancy takes you back to basics.” I pull up my email in an effort to distract myself.
“In this moment, I don’t hate it.” She nods at my coffee. “How’s the lavender haze latte?”
“Amazing. I love me some good old drip coffee—”
“But you can be a fancy bitch on occasion.” Wheeler smiles at me over her laptop, and something catches in my chest. “Welcome to Dallas. I think you’ll fit in just fine here.”
Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.
I have mixed feelings about the conversation we had in my truck on the drive here. On the one hand, we got the facts laid out, which needed to happen so we have a clear picture of the reality of our situation. She’s building her business. I’m figuring out how to handle this sense of wanderlust, of boredom, I can’t seem to kick.
A baby does not fit into any of that.
Wheeler and I are also not together. We didn’t even need to mention marriage, because it’s so laughably far off the table. Wheeler’s working through some tough stuff with her parents and their marriage, and I know she has no interest in following in their footsteps by having a shotgun wedding situation.
Gonna be honest, though—the thought of us pairing off in any way makes my heart skip a beat. Marriage makes my heart skip another beat, and not in an entirely bad way. Seeing Cash marry his best friend has shown me that a wife doesn’t tie you down.She becomes your partner in crime. The person who’s by your side as you make your dreams come true together, whether those dreams mean traveling or making babies.
Why not both?
But that’s a road that leads nowhere with Wheeler. Girl won’t date me, much less let me put a ring on her finger.
Wheeler taps on her keyboard, then lets out a little yelp of delight.
“Good news?” I ask.
She nods, her fingers flying. “Because we still haven’t been able to reschedule our Aspen trunk show, the store there put our boots up on their website for preorder yesterday.” Her eyes flick to meet mine. “They sold out within minutes. Two hundred pairs!”
I hold up my hand for a high five. “Fuck yeah they did. Congrats.”
“Thank you. And you’ll appreciate this.” She slaps my hand. “Apparently the store got a zillion questions about our men’s boot collection. Which obviously doesn’t exist—”
“But it could. Clearly there’s interest. And imagine if you had a hot cowboy starring in your first marketing campaign? Y’all would sell out inseconds.” I hold out my arms. “I’m still available. I’ll take my shirt off and everything.”
Wheeler arches a brow, her gaze flicking down my body. “Pants too?”
“For you? Honey, I’d drop trou in a heartbeat.”
“How hilarious would it be if the whole ad was just you, naked, in a pair of Bellamy Brooks boots with you holding a cowboy hat over your—”
“Longhorn?”
She bursts out laughing. “See! Gross.”
“You’re still smiling.”
She purses her lips, clearly trying to fight the big old grin she’s wearing. “I like the idea of men’s boots. Mollie and I just need to clone ourselves to get it done.”
I shrug, grabbing my phone to open my banking app. “Or you could hire that hot cowboy as a consultant. I got ideas.”
“Well, by all means, share them.” She sets her elbows on the table, her hair falling over her shoulders. “To be fair, you are kind of an expert in this area, so I’m all ears.”
My chest lifts at her openness. Her confidence in me.
I like that she’s as jazzed by new ideas as I am.
