Reckless (Mason Family #3) - Adriana Locke Page 0,68

he puts it like that, I see his point.

We drive along quietly. Wade stares straight ahead and offers no commentary. He’s really a man on an island, and I wonder why he likes it there so much.

Or if he does.

I don’t really know.

“What game plan are we walking into Greyshell with?” I ask.

“Logic.”

I wait for him to expound, but he doesn’t.

“You’re a wordsmith today,” I mutter.

“You’re the one who came up with this plan. Why do I have to explain it to you?”

I twist in my seat. “So, we are going in there with my game plan? Explain the right-of-way? Make them an offer?”

He nods like I’m just catching on—mostly because I am.

“Shit,” I say, looking at the road again. “I figured you guys changed it up some.”

“Why nitpick an idea to death when it’s solid to start with?”

A bubble of pride swells in my chest. It’s dumb to be proud that your older brother thinks you did a good job when you’re in your mid-twenties, but it’s Wade. He doesn’t toss compliments around for fun.

“I think we need to charm them,” I say, energized by this recent development. “They’ve pissed off all their neighbors. They might respond to someone being nice to them.”

“Not a bad idea.”

“So that means that I need to take the lead on this.”

Wade scoffs.

“What?” I ask. “Can you be charming? Is that a talent you possess that I, nor anyone you’ve ever met, never knew about?”

“Do you live to annoy me?”

“Pretty sure that’s the exact reason Mom had me.”

“May-fucking-be.” He sighs. “You know what? You feel them out. See if your plan works. If it does, we’ll roll with it. If not, we’ll dazzle them with numbers.”

I cringe. “Numbers are never dazzling unless they’re measurements.”

I can tell he wants to get pissed. But, to my surprise, he doesn’t.

He grins. “I think bank account statements can be dazzling.”

“Well played.” I laugh. “Look at that—Wade has a sense of humor, after all.”

The humor is short-lived. It disappears from his face as quickly as it arrived.

I sit back in the seat and let my mind drift to Jaxi and the idea of marriage. My thoughts on the topic are now convoluted. I’d be stupid if I didn’t listen to Wade’s opinion.

My relationship with Jaxi won’t change if we don’t get married. To be honest, she’s never insinuated she wants to get married anyway.

I rest my head against the back of the seat and pick up my phone again.

Me: Hey.

Jaxi: Hi.

Me: I have a plan I want to talk to you about tonight. And then a guy is coming by at six. I should be home around four or four thirty.

Jaxi: Okay. Everything good?

Me: Yes. I just want to go over a plan I have and see what you think.

Jaxi: Sounds good. How’s your day going?

Me: Swimmingly. Just listened to the modern pitfalls of marriage, courtesy of Wade.

Jaxi: Sounds fun. I’ll see you this afternoon.

Me: See you then.

I put the phone back in my pocket.

Twenty-One

Jaxi

Just listened to the modern pitfalls of marriage, courtesy of Wade.

I wipe the countertop down with a sponge. I go still as I get to the spot in the corner where we made love for the first time.

At least, that’s what it was to me. And what I thought it was to him.

A bubble inflates and deflates in my stomach. With each breath I take, my anxiety rises and falls. It feels like something is wrong. Something is off. It’s an intuitive pressure in my body that I’ve learned to observe.

Why? Because it’s usually right.

I push forward and finish cleaning the counters. My brain switches into overdrive and dissects every conversation, every interaction, that Boone and I have had over the past couple of days.

He’s been tired, I know. Rosie hasn’t been sleeping much, and when she does, it’s not in her own bed. We take turns putting her back in her room. We sit with her, talk to her, try to be gentle but firm, but the line on how to deal with this is blurry. She’s in a new house. She’s just lost her mother. We have no idea what to do.

It’s probably just that things are going great. I’m so used to looking for the dark side of things. I need to learn to override this stuff.

I toss the sponge in the sink and sigh.

Did Wade’s and his conversation about marriage have something to do with me?

I force a swallow down my throat.

Surely, he doesn’t think that’s what I’m thinking.

Would I marry

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