Take Me (Take a Chance 4)
Mike stiffened. “Who the fuck told you that? She’s not a stripper. She’s a dancer.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Hell yeah. She dances professionally—with her clothes on.”
Garrett shrugged. “I assumed when Brianna said dancer, she was putting it politely. Who is she?”
Mike scrubbed his face. “The girl who yelled at us in the bar for taking her seat.”
“The ginger with the cowboy boots?” Garrett whistled through his teeth. “She looked like she hated you that night.”
Mike sighed. “She did at first. Now, we’re…”
“In love?”
“Fuck. I don’t know what we are.” He shoved the clipboard into his bag and sank to the bench. “No, love hasn’t been mentioned. We got married while drunk. Al helped us get a license. There’s apparently a DVD of us somewhere.”
“Yeah, I have it. Al told me to give it to you.” Garrett yanked it out of his bag and handed the case over.
Mike shoved it into his own bag, not wanting to touch the damn thing right now. “Thanks. I’ll show it to my kids someday. This is Mommy and Daddy when we got drunk and said ‘I do.’”
“Planning kids already?” Garrett whistled low under his breath, then sat down next to him. “What are you going to do now?”
“Shit if I know.” Mike closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the brick wall. “But we’re seeing what happens. She’s coming to the wedding with me.”
“Are you actually considering staying with this woman?” Garrett’s voice sounded like a mix between annoyed and worried. And Mike couldn’t blame him. He was acting strange. Even he could see that. “Do you even know her?”
Mike opened his eyes and shrugged. “I know enough about her to know I married her. If that doesn’t say something, I don’t know what will.”
“Just because you did something while drunk doesn’t mean it means something.”
Mike hesitated. “But what if it does?”
Kiersten came over, looking worried. “Is everything okay over here?” She rested a hand on Garrett’s shoulder, her eyes on Mike. “And you—please tell me you’re going to fix this marriage mess.”
“Jesus, et tu, Brute?” Mike stood up and entwined his hands behind his neck. “Everyone needs to stop fucking worrying about me. Did I shove my nose in your lives while you two figured out your shit?”
Garrett cocked a brow. “I remember you going Oprah on my ass.”
Okay. True enough. “But only once I knew you were ready. I didn’t talk to either of you until you figured yourselves out. So do m
e a favor. Until I know what the fuck I’m feeling—and what the fuck she’s feeling—leave me alone.”
He grabbed his bag and headed for the door. Kiersten called out, “Are you bringing her to the wedding? I’d like to meet her.”
“Yeah. She’s coming.”
“Good.” Kiersten cleared her throat. “And if she makes you happy, Mike, we’ll love her. You know that, right?”
She did make him happy but she might be leaving. She might not want him the same way he wanted her. “Yeah. I know. Just like I know you love me—and you know I love you. So just let me be.” Garrett cocked a brow, and her eyes went wide. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You said it. You’ve never told me that before,” she said, her voice raw. “I love you, too.”
It wasn’t until Kiersten pointed it out that Mike realized what she meant. He had actually told her he loved her. All their lives, she knew it, of course. Knew how he felt. But he never said the words before. What had changed? Did he even want to know?
“I’ve got to go,” he said, his voice strangled.
Kiersten wrung her hands. “Mike, I—”