Chapter 7
Marcus
It had been two days since Dakota’s call, and the trail cams had yet to catch anything but a rogue coyote or two. Then again, considering the amount of footprints we’d left behind in the mud, whoever had been hanging out there probably knew they’d been found out. And if I was lucky, that would be the last thing I ever heard about it.
But that wasn’t what had been on my mind for the past two days. In truth, all I could think about was Xavier. And the fact that he now knew too much about me. I’d been so flustered in the moment that I didn’t realize how much I was giving away. Not that he ever stopped probing long enough to give me a chance to breathe.
The guy was annoying. Cute as fuck, but annoying. As far as I was concerned, we didn’t need to spend any more time together.
Unfortunately, fate had other plans. Because at that exact moment, my office door swung open and Xavier Hart waltzed in like he owned the place, wearing what I could only describe as the tightest jeans known to mankind and a crop top that said “Slut” in glittery letters. My eyes immediately dipped to his perfectly smooth, toned stomach. His jeans were extremely low cut, but there wasn’t a hair to be seen. My mouth watered.
Did… Did this guy wax his entire body?
“Sheriff Webb,” he announced, plopping himself down in the chair across from my desk without invitation. “You need to come with me.”
I stared at him, my brain short-circuiting for a moment before I could form words. “How did you get past Mrs. Baxter?”
“I told her I was here on official wedding business,” he said with a grin that was entirely too pleased with itself. “She practically shoved me through the door. Apparently, she’s very invested in Lucas and Beau’s big day.”
Of course she was. Mrs. Baxter had been talking about that wedding nonstop for weeks. I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on. “What do you want, Xavier?”
“I need you to come with me,” he said, leaning forward with his elbows on my desk. The movement made his crop top ride up even higher, exposing more of his tanned, smooth stomach. I forced myself to look at his face instead. “To get fitted for your suit.”
“Suit? What suit?” I asked, furrowing my brow.
“The one you’ll be wearing when you officiate the wedding,” he replied. “Because you aren’t wearing…” He gestured to all of me. “That.”
“I have a suit.”
“When’s the last time you wore it?”
“I don’t know… maybe prom?” I shrugged. “I’m sure it still fits.”
“You had all these muscles in high school too?” Xavier’s gaze raked over my body. “I wouldn’t have been able to keep my hands off you.”
I felt heat crawl up my neck at his words, and I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “Xavier?—”
“Relax, Sheriff. I’m just stating facts.” He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other in a way that should’ve beenillegal in jeans that tight. “But seriously, you need a proper suit. This is going to be photographed, videoed, and posted all over social media. You can’t show up looking like you’re about to serve someone a warrant.”
“I haven’t even agreed to officiate yet,” I pointed out, trying to regain some control of this conversation, though my body was a different matter. My jeans were growing uncomfortably tight with all the skin he was showing.
“But you will.” He said it with such certainty that it annoyed me. “Because you’re a good man who cares about his friends, and Beau asked you personally. You’re not going to let him down.”
Damn it. He was right, and we both knew it. I’d been wrestling with the decision for over a week now, but deep down, I’d already made up my mind. I was going to do it. I just hadn’t found the courage to admit it yet.
“Fine,” I muttered. “But I’m not wearing anything ridiculous.”
“Define ridiculous.” Xavier’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
“No sequins, no mesh, no crop tops?—”
“You’d look amazing in a crop top with these abs.” He gestured toward my stomach like he could see through my uniform shirt. “But fine, we’ll keep it traditional. Classic black tux, maybe a nice navy if you’re feeling adventurous.”
“Black is fine,” I said quickly, before he could suggest something that involved the word ‘adventurous’ and my wardrobe in the same sentence.
“Perfect. The tailor is already at the ranch and expecting us in half an hour.” He stood up, smoothing down his crop top. “So, let’s go.”
“Half an hour? You made an appointment without even asking me first?”
