The way Claire said it was like it was just part of the introductions.
“Oh, he doesn’t like that word,” Marlee said quickly. “Them-word.”
Actually, he’d been doing much better with it lately. Not the concept, but the word didn’t elicit cold sweats anymore.
“Married?” Velma asked.
“Shhh.” Marlee shook her head. “It makes Eli twitchy.”
“I’m fine.” Eli took a pull of his beer. “You can say it.”
“Can you say it?” Marlee asked, the dare as clear as the sparkle in her eyes.
“I don’t need to say it. It happened. We’re here. There’s nothing to say.” And that’s all he had to say about that.
“He can’t say it.” Marlee shrugged toward Velma.
He strode toward her. “Mar, I can totally say it.”
“Then say it,” she said all sing-song like.
She stared up at him. Her chin tilted to the side.
He held her eyes. No one said anything. And it really didn’t matter. They were in a room full of his friends, but it was only him and Marlee.
“Married.” He ground his incisors together. “See, I can say it.”
Her face did the soft thing that went straight to his gut. “I knew you had it in you.”
She leaned forward, and swear to fuck, he thought she was going to kiss him. His lips parted like they were ready for whatever she wanted to plant on them. And he would’ve liked it. Fuck it all, he would’ve liked it. Instead, she patted his cheek and smiled that dreamy smile of hers.
He didn’t even care that there was a room full of friends watching their exchange.
“He calls her Mar,” Heather not-so-quietly whispered.
Now? Now he cared.
Shit.
With the moment broken, he stepped back. Lifted his Coors to his lips like a Rocky Mountain armor.
“This is the best.” Claire leaned forward, chin in palms, her elbows on the counter.
Jase recovered from his choking episode. “You two keep doing what you’re doing. Epic shit going down right here.”
Eli couldn’t get his tongue to move. There was so much he wanted to say. To Marlee. To his friends. But like always, his tongue seemed to be adhered to the top of his mouth with high-grade peanut butter.
“Don’t get too excited,” Marlee said with a solid look toward Eli that made his knees turn to plum-flavored jam. “We’re in the middle of the divorce.”
He grunted in reply. What else was he supposed to say?
“It’s all very amicable,” Marlee assured. “He’s even letting Lothario and me stay with him while things get finalized.”
Now it was Brek’s turn to choke on a chip. “She lives with you?”
Of course, she did. He wasn’t an asshole. “Yep.”
“Who’s Lothario?” Claire asked.
