asshole, Luke!” and I realize she must be talking about Ace, and they must be at the point where Luke’s balloon gets busted. A moment later, Gerald texts back: I’m watching the show. You look good, Nell.
I clench my fists. He’s playing his regular Gerald game, trying to dig his way under my skin. I’m done. Enjoy it. I have to go.
I throw my phone down on the chair beside me and shake my head. Somehow I knew he’d text me back now. Maybe that was even the reason why I signed up for the show in the first place.
No, that was the reason I signed up. To get in his face again.
But somewhere along the line, I stopped caring. And now I really couldn’t give a fuck.
Courtney squeals again, and I hear her yell, “I always thought I’d be your maid of honor!” So we’re on that part. My phone buzzes with a text a moment later: Holy cow. Did you really marry that guy?
I quickly grab the phone and race to block the number.
But not before another text comes through. I brace myself to read it and realize it’s not from Gerald. It’s from a number I don’t recognize.
It says: Vooly voo coochie a le moi croissant?
I jump nearly to the ceiling.
This can’t be . . . can it?
Of course, it has to be.
My fingers tremble as I type in: Are you asking me to sleep with your breakfast pastry?
A moment later: So THAT’s what that means? Fuck, girl. You’re turning me on.
I grin from ear to ear. Courtney’s shouting something at the television, but all my attention is on my phone now.
Me: You know you’re not supposed to be talking to me.
Him: That’s why I’m texting from my buddy’s phone. Took me a while to find your number.
Me: How did you do that?
Him: It’s easy for us felons. You watching the show?
Me: Can’t bring myself to. You?
Him: Hell no. Never seen the bar so packed, though. I’m in the back closet. Doing “inventory.”
I smile. I like the fact that we’re in the same boat, even if there is distance separating us. Not much distance, though. He never said where his bar was, but I looked it up on my GPS and mapped it out, and it’s less than three miles from me. I keep thinking that if we were meant to be, maybe we’d run into each other somewhere.
Sometimes I think about trying to “accidentally” run into him, say, by going down to the bar and pretending to be in the neighborhood.
Then I remind myself that he needs the money, and I don’t want to jeopardize things for him.
Him: Has a good girl like you ever broken the rules before?
I grin at the thought.
Me: What do you have in mind?
Him: I’ll text you when I can get away. Good night, sweetheart. Sweet dreams.
I throw my head back against my chair and let out an excited little squeal, just thinking about breaking the rules with my yummy husband. My whole body’s tingling, quivering for him, for the possibility of seeing him before the finale.
I’m practically brimming with delight when I walk out to see Courtney and Joe, with their eyes glued to the screen. She doesn’t look at me, but her voice is full of suspicion. “How was your quote-unquote phone call?”
I grin. Nothing can stop me from smiling now, nothing. Not even . . .
I catch a glimpse of Luke being tethered to me for the corn maze mission. The camera isn’t focused on me, though. It’s focused on Luke’s bulging biceps, the look of concentration on his face as we line up at the starting line.
And now I’m not just grinning; I’m wet. Wanting. Delirious. I actually have to put my hands on my thighs to keep my knees from knocking together.
“Oh my god,” Courtney says, jumping up and down on the couch. She’s clutching a pillow on her lap in both hands, twisting it anxiously, and I think she may end its life pretty soon. “You not only married Mr. Hot, Dark, and Dirty, you went through an entire corn maze tied to Mr. Hot, Dark, and Dirty like that?”
I nod, sporting that smug smile she hates. The one I use to gloat when I know something nobody else knows.
Because really.
She hasn’t seen anything yet.
Luke
Yeah, it’s tough. It’s like being in a holding pattern. I just want to get it over with and get everything out in the open.