Knocking Boots - Willow Winters Page 0,25

James comes to mind at that thought.

“You know you can’t keep this up.” Genuine concern laces her voice.

My mouth opens to respond with some kind of joke, something to put her at ease, but Maggie leaves before I get a word out. Practically storming out. I watch her back as she heads out to the front, the double doors swaying and creaking. I’ve been doing this for years and it’s worked out just fine. That’s what I want her to get. But a piece of me knows she’s right. All the long hours are getting to me. I suppose that happens as you get older.

The doors hold my attention as they slowly stop swinging. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes with my pointer and thumb and my hand across my face, I think again about how she’s right. Just before I toss the pen down on the desk, I see the notification on my phone. Someone messaged me.

My brows pinch as I look at the number. I don’t know it, and it’s not programmed into my phone.

What should I wear to the wedding?

A smile curls my lips up. Grace. That’s right. Now I remember.

Last night before my sweetheart left, I put my number in her phone. I wasn’t sure if she’d use it or not, but I told her to.

I huff a small laugh at the text, remembering the night before. She was sweet after a couple more drinks, leaning on me a little more than usual. Asking if I was just messing with her.

If it was a few years ago, I may have thought of her as the clingy type.

Intending on grabbing my keys from my office to get the hell out of here, I lean against my desk and then decide to just fall into the chair as I look at her message again.

Two nights ago, I didn’t have a single problem with her clinging onto me while the guys in the back shooting pool were looking at her. She didn’t even notice them, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to point them out to her. If I’m honest with myself, I would have rather spent last night with her the same as the night before, rather than working.

I’m too tired to think, but I text her back with the first thoughts on my mind.

It’s a small wedding. Nothing too fancy or formal is fine.

It’s been nearly an hour since she messaged me. I sit the phone down, thinking she won’t get back to me for a while, but the phone goes off rapid fire.

Okay, so not a ballgown, got it.

I’ll do something simple...

But classy.

What are you wearing?

The laugh comes up easy, vibrating in my chest. I lean back, and get comfortable in the chair. I’m so damn tired I could lay my head down right here on this hardwood or stack of paper and take a nap.

I text her back: I’m in the wedding, so I have a suit. The groom is the only one in a tux.

Her response makes me laugh even harder.

And you told me I could wear jeans!

With a wide smile on my lips, I respond: Wear whatever you want, sweetheart. I stare at my message for a second, playing with a small tear in my jeans before adding, I’ll be in gray with a dark blue tie.

I can practically hear her voice when she answers: Okay, now I’ve got something to work with.

I grin at her message, debating on what to say back.

Probably nothing, I think as another yawn takes over. I’m too damn tired to keep going at this point. I stretch out and grab my keys, nearly pocketing my phone before it beeps again.

And you're sure you wanna take me?

I knew it. I knew she’d second guess it or think I was just fucking with her.

You backing out of our deal? I hope she can feel my smile when she reads it. I add: We shook on this. That’s as good as a legal notarized document when a handshake happens in my bar.

I don’t even notice Maggie come in until I hear her voice.

“Now, whatever’s got you smiling like that,” she says with her hands on her hips, “that’s what you should be spending your time on.”

I lift my head to look at her, but the second I do, my phone goes off.

I’ll pick out something to match.

Grace

“Oooh, let’s go in here!” Diane says, tugging at my arm and pointing to a shop. “I’ll bet they have exactly what we