Say You'll Marry Me

Damn it all anyway, should’ve just stayed home.

He hurried after her and caught up outside the entrance. “Hey, wait up. Are you okay?”

“Fine.” With her ankle clearly recovered from the other day, she continued her march through the parking lot, hips swaying with every stride she took in those sexy, high-heeled boots.

“Did I hurt you back there?”

She gave a short laugh as she pulled keys from her purse. “No, Logan, you did not hurt me back there.”

Obviously she was okay. He should just let her go. Continuing to follow her was not the way to get her off his mind, yet he found himself doing just that when he guessed the problem. At her convertible, he darted in front of her to block the door.

“You’re upset about earlier today, aren’t you?”

She shifted back on one heel, arms crossed over her chest in a defensive gesture. Her eyes were definitely full of moisture, and she made no attempt to hide the tears as she jutted out her chin in defiance.

“Don’t flatter yourself that these are because of you.”

“They’re not?”

“Of course not,” she exclaimed as if he was an idiot. “Today was about my grandma. I mean, it’s not like I want to marry you or be engaged to you, pretend or otherwise. Because you were right about one thing—I don’t even like you.”

The confirmation stung. Even more so because at the moment, God help him, all he could remember was the feel of her in his arms, and he wanted her there again.

He cocked an eyebrow and let his gaze drop to her lips as he leaned closer. “You sure liked my kiss.”

He’d never seen anyone blush so fast.

“I just wanted you to say yes,” she snapped. “Believe me, I’m glad you didn’t.”

Ouch. That was more than a sting.

She uncrossed her arms and shoved him away from her door. “Go home, Logan, and leave me alone.”

Chapter 5

‡

Sunday afternoon, Joy made sure her grandma, Mrs. Langhart, and the rest of the book club members had everything they needed in the living room before she grabbed the pitcher of lemonade and carried it out to the porch. After pouring a glass for Tara and Jenny, she dropped down into a chair in the September sunshine and voiced the question that had kept her tossing and turning most of the night.

“So…hypothetically, which is better? For a guy to think you’re so turned on by him that you probably would’ve slept with him after one kiss, or to have him think you were willing to use sex to get what you wanted?”

Tara choked on her drink after the first part of the question. Jenny’s auburn eyebrows nearly flew off the top of her forehead with the second part.

“Um…neither.” Tara thunked her glass down and jerked upright, her long, dark hair slipping forward over her shoulders. “What did you do?”

“Who did you do?” Jenny added.

Heat climbed into Joy’s face. “I said hy-po-thetically.”

“That is so not a hypothetical question.” Tara paused and glanced at Jenny. “Though to be fair, she also said, ‘probably would’ve slept with him,’ so it doesn’t sound like she did him yet.” Her gaze bounced back to Joy. “Did you?”

“Nobody did anybody,” she exclaimed as she slouched back in her chair. “You know what, forget I asked. Jenny, didn’t you say you had something to talk to us about?”

Her two friends exchanged glances and then turned to stare at her, silently demanding answers. Though opposites in both their looks and personalities, they were now united in a common goal.

“Nope.” She shook her head for emphasis. “Subject’s closed. Nothing more to talk about.”

She mimed zipping her lips, locking them, and tossing away the key. Then she sipped her lemonade and hummed as she gazed out across the field. Clouds were rolling in, in advance of the thunderstorms forecasted for the afternoon. Wouldn’t be long.