“Marcus Webb, you had me worried sick!” she called out as I climbed out of the truck. “Xavier called here looking for you, said you’d left the ranch without your—” She paused, taking in my shirtless state. “Without your shirt. What on earth happened?”
“Just a misunderstanding,” I said quickly, pulling on my uniform shirt even though it was wrinkled and soaked with sweat. “But Beau and I got it sorted out, so no harm done.”
She looked between Beau and I for a moment before throwing up her arms. “Men!” she scoffed and headed back inside.
I watched her go, then turned back to Beau, who was still sitting in his truck with a knowing smirk on his face.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I muttered.
“Like what?” he asked innocently, but the grin didn’t fade.
“Like you know somethin’ I don’t want you to know.”
“Marcus, I know lots of things you don’t want me to know. That’s what happens when you’ve been friends with someone for thirty years.” He put the truck in gear. “But for what it’s worth? I think you’re makin’ the right choice. About the weddin’, I mean.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything else. He gave me a small wave before pulling away, leaving me standing in front of the sheriff’s office looking like some kind of sweaty, disheveled mess. I could see Mrs. Baxter through the window, shaking her head at me while she filed paperwork.
I needed a shower. And maybe a stiff drink. And definitely a plan for how I was going to face Xavier again without dying of embarrassment.
My phone buzzed in my pocket again. This time I pulled it out and looked at the screen.
Xavier: I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention. I still need to finish your measurements though. Let me know when you’re ready.
I stared at the message for a long moment, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. What was I supposed to say? It’s fine, sorry my dick poked your face? No hard feelings, literally and figuratively?
Instead, I typed something that surprised me.
Me: Tomorrow. 2pm. My place.
At least at my house, I’d have home field advantage. And if things went sideways again, I could lock myself in the bathroom instead of having to walk five miles in the heat.
His response came almost immediately.
Xavier: Your place? How scandalous, Sheriff. Should I bring protection?
My face flushed hot, and I could practically hear the teasing lilt in his voice through the text.
Xavier: Kidding. I’ll bring my supplies. And maybe some coffee that doesn’t taste like burnt sadness.
Despite everything, I felt the corner of my mouth twitch. The man was infuriating, but I had to admit—he was also kind of funny. In an obnoxious, city-boy way that shouldn’t have been appealing but somehow was.
Me: Just bring the measuring tape.
Xavier: Oh, I’ll bring more than that. See you tomorrow, Sheriff. ;)
The winky face made my stomach do something complicated that I absolutely did not want to analyze. I shoved my phone back in my pocket and headed inside, ignoring Mrs. Baxter’s questioning look as I made a beeline for my office.
Tomorrow. I just had to survive until tomorrow. And then somehow make it through another fitting without embarrassing myself further.
How hard could it be?
Chapter 9
Xavier
The appointed time had finally arrived, and I had to admit I was more than a little nervous as I sat outside Marcus’s house. Which, to be honest, was really fucking weird for me. When it came to men, I was always cool, collected confidence. But the more I thought about Sheriff Marcus Webb, the more I got that fluttering sensation in the pit of my stomach. Andthatwas something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Marcus, I had to admit, was fun to be around. Mostly because my sheer presence seemed to fluster him beyond reason. And I delighted in his torture. But there was something else about him too, a soft and fierce protectiveness that he’d displayed more than once. Something about that made me quiver down to my bones.
