Pickle:IDK, I kind of liked Jurassic World too
Pen:Eh. I kept wanting that velociraptor to bite off Chris Pratt’s hand
Pickle:blood thirsty Pen. I like it.
( . . . )
Pickle:You got that I meant I told everyone about us?
About us. Like we were a thing. In some ways we are. Partners in crime.
Pen:Yes. I’m in avoidance mode. That was the first time I’d heard my name on national TV
Pickle:You watched it?
Pen:Of course. It’s not every day a guy says I’m his true love and that I kicked his heart in, causing him to do the chicken dance. I had to soak it in, you know?
Pickle:And there’s salty Pen. Can we not talk about the dance anymore. Like ever?
Pen:So that shot I got blown up and framed of you gyrating while wearing a purple fur is a no-go for over my bed?
The phone vibrates with a silent ring. Uh-oh. I’m in trouble. Fighting a grin, I answer. “Penelope Morrow, first-time fiancée, longtime man-killer, speaking.”
August’s warmly amused voice tickles my ear. “Keep teasing, see what happens.”
“Now I’m intrigued. What dance can I expect next? The Macarena, perhaps?”
“Ha ha. I’ll have you know I took ballroom dancing with all the Luck kids for two miserable summers. I can waltz you so good you’ll think you’re on air.”
“Stop. ‘You had me at hello.’” I giggle—a sexy giggle, damn it. “‘You had me athello.’”
“It’s a good thing you’re marrying me, then,” he drawls.
Yep. Still makes my insides sway. I grip my phone with a hand that’s gone clammy.
“In all seriousness,” I say. “You did good.”
“Thank you.” There’s a beeping like he’s opened a car door, then the rumble of an engine turning over. “Got PR training in freshman year. And another round when I was drafted. It’s annoying but part of the job.”
“And your PR is okay with this? Truly?”
“It was their idea to say I was acting out over a broken heart.”
I’m still not sure how I feel about that. But I adopt a light tone. “Smart of them.”
A dubious grunt is his response.
“You okay with this?” he asks. “I know it hits different once it’s out there.”
“Pickle, I’m fine.”
“Penelope . . .” He trails off to heavy silence.
“Yes?”
There’s a pause before he speaks. “Thank you for this. Now that it’s real, I can’t help but think it’s fucking heroic of you.”
My heart skips and stumbles in my tight chest. “Hardly that.”
