My Always One - Aleatha Romig Page 0,24

resting on top before he plucks a long piece of grass from the ground and plops it in his mouth.

His silence is wearing on me as much as my uneasiness at what I’d done.

It is as if my skin is stretched and itchy, not allowing me to sit. Instead, I cross my arms over my breasts and use the toe of my shoe to dig into the soft ground.

As the long grass dangles from his lips, such as a 1940s movie star’s cigarette, Marshal finally speaks. “You did it with Todd, didn't you?"

I won't lie to Marshal. I never have. My answer is barely above a whisper. "I guess."

His lean body stiffens and his bicep pulses. "I'm going to kick his ass."

I stand straighter as my voice returns. "Why? It's not like you haven't done it with...well, everyone."

"But I'm a guy. It's what guys do. I swear if he runs off his fucking mouth about you, it'll be the last damn thing he ever does."

I scoff. "He won't. Plus, if he runs off his mouth, he's a lying piece of shit."

I like Todd, but I also know how guys can be. I know how Marshal can be.

My best friend’s gaze leaves the field as he stands and reaches for my arms. As he stares into my eyes, he asks, "Are you okay?"

I shrug. "Yeah, I'm fine. Not much can happen in ten seconds."

His expression of anger morphs into a smile growing bigger by the second. It's contagious and soon I'm smiling too.

"Ha," he says. His eyes narrow. “Are you serious?”

I nod. With the tension floating away in the spring breeze, I sit next to where Marshal had been sitting and look out at the baby corn.

“Well, that’s good to know,” Marshal says, taking a seat beside me. “I guarantee that when I let him know that I know that little bit of information, it'll keep him from talking trash about you."

"Little is right." Marshal’s smile encourages me to continue with my heart growing lighter by the second. "I mean, I don't have a lot to compare it to, but yeah, little is about right."

I wasn’t even that honest with my girlfriends, but with Marshal it has always been easy.

Even now.

With Marshal, it isn't a matter of telling him about my past. I don't have to. He knows it all.

As I lie in Marshal's arms, in his bed, and with his steady breathing in my ear, I force my thoughts to go to my ex-fiancé. I'm still upset about Jack.

And hurt.

And mad.

And surprisingly calm.

It’s as if a weight I didn’t realize I was carrying is gone.

There’s no doubt that the thought of telling my parents the wedding is off fills me with dread; however, I’m also shocked to realize that having that complete thought, coming to terms with canceling the wedding, leaves me relieved.

There is still shock and pain—I think that’s normal—but there’s also liberation.

I'm not sure if this feeling of freedom will last, but while it’s within me, I decide to savor it, to lie in Marshal's cocoon and enjoy the liberty.

Maybe I was rushing the whole marriage thing.

Maybe I'm not ready for that.

Those thoughts and more move in and out of my mind as I finally ease myself from Marshal's bed.

He's still sound asleep, his broad bare chest moving with his breaths.

I hold back a giggle. He should be asleep for a week after last night.

Holy shit!

I never knew a guy could keep going on and on like that. And I never knew that I could come more than once, more than twice—shit, somewhere around five, I lost count.

Over the years, I've listened to Marshal's stories of sexual expertise. It isn't that I thought he was lying. I just figured he'd embellished—exaggerated.

Stifling a groan as I take a few steps and feeling the fantastic stiffness in my legs and tenderness in my core, I make a mental note never to doubt him again. And...I add sexual stamina to my list of things Marshal Michaels has never lied to me about.

After cleaning myself and getting dressed, I check one more time on Marshal. He needs to get up for work, but it's still early, only a little after six. After what he did last night, he deserves to sleep until his alarm rings.

Quietly, I grab my phone and purse and leave him be.

For only a moment, I consider giving him a goodbye kiss, but I don't. After all, he's my best friend, not my lover nor my fiancé. I'll let