she was there. Well, that and the perpetual erection. Can’t forget that. Worst case of blue balls I’ve had since I was thirteen.
Which I chalked up to not having gotten laid in far too long. And yet I felt disinclined to go looking for it––a sentiment I wasn’t ready to examine because entertaining the idea that my vanilla wife was the only woman that did it for me was out of the question. That would make me screwed and not in the way I wanted to be.
Needless to say, I hadn’t gotten much sleep. Every night I went to sleep hard. Every morning I woke up that way. I was a thirty-eight-years old, grown-ass man. I paid my taxes on time. I’d slept with models and movie stars in my sordid past, even a genuine princess once. And I couldn’t even jerk off in my own cabin because I didn’t want my fake wife on the other side of the wall to hear me. Three weeks and this arrangement had already become unsustainable.
Also, it had to be said that she had terrible decorating skills, but I couldn’t hold bad taste against her. I wasn’t that petty.
“You sure she hasn’t been out?” Judging by Ryan’s flat expression, something was up.
“Sydney? Out?” A bark of dry laughter shot out of me. “No. Even if she wanted to, I’ve got the truck.”
Ryan nodded, his mouth twitching. “So she couldn’t…let’s say, go to a bar if she wanted to?”
I didn’t like this line of questioning. Whether it was bogus or not, Sydney was my wife, my wife, carried my name, wore my ring, and I didn’t take kindly to anyone speaking ill of her. Even my best friend.
“No.”
“I found Drake, by the way.” Ryan tipped his chair back on two legs and took another pull of his beer.
“Yeah?” Craning my neck left and right, I scanned the room. “Where is the little hustler?” Loved the kid, but Drake had earned the nickname Cowboy Casanova for good reason.
“At the bar, talking to your wife.”
My head cranked around just in time to catch Sydney making eyes at my twenty-one-year-old ranch hand.
The fuck?
I stood and charged without a second thought to consequences, to how it may or may not look. How the hell did she get here? And while I was busy contemplating that mystery, what else had she been up to while I’d been at my place, parked on the couch watching games?
Drake saw me coming before Sydney did. When she finally did notice me standing behind her, she swiveled around on her barstool. A smile lit up her face and an unfamiliar feeling of joy slammed into my chest, briefly disarming me. I’d been living under a dark cloud for so many years I’d forgotten what it was like to feel good, and this woman with her rare sunshine smiles reminded me of what I’d been missing.
Problem was, she almost never smiled at me. With everyone else, she doled them out frequently and indiscriminately, but not her husband. Much later I’d admit that I both liked it and it also scared the crap out of me. Mostly because I wanted to bask in those smiles, hoard them. In the moment, however, fear made me act like an asshole.
“Hey, look who I finally met.” She tipped her head at Drake who smiled like the cat that had eaten the canary and licked his fingers clean.
Are you fucking kidding me? Go find your own wife, I signed.
Drake signed back, I’m too young to get married. Still sowing my oats.
Which prompted me to immediately reply, Then go sow them in someone else’s wife, you little shit.
Drake laughed.
“What is he saying?” Sydney asked Drake while Drake’s attention remained on me. “Scott, what are you saying to him?” Drake’s focus swung back to Sydney. Lifting her hand to his lips, he placed a kiss on the back of her knuckles and Sydney beamed.
Watching her get played by the ranch’s resident manwhore-in-training got my blood up. Before I could break it up, Drake dropped her hand and walked away.
“How did you get here?” I barked, rounding on her. It came out way harsher than it should have, but I didn’t like surprises and finding Sydney out and having a grand old time was definitely an unpleasant one.
“It’s nice to see you too.” She smiled again. Mrs. Blackstone smiled with her whole face, not like the Botoxed beauties I was accustomed to. Her grin stretched from ear to ear, her teeth were