Page 78 of Worth Loving You

I rolled a shoulder and took a huge sip, coughing it down. “It would fucking kill me, but yes. I love her and if she thinks I’m going to let her walk away and let someone else love her, she’s out of her mind.”

He plopped to the sofa, throwing his arm across the back. “How do you plan to fix this?”

“There’s nothing to fix, we aren’t married yet.”

“Yet.”

“Exactly. She has no say so what I do with my spare time. Now, once we’re married—”

“You’ll be a one woman man?”

I stared at the wine, that question spinning my head. “Well, I’ll try. It’s more than I can say now.”

He propped his ankle on his knee and shook his foot. “She won’t marry you, man. Watch. She’s done.”

“Then she’s dead.”

“La, la, la!”

He huffed, his foot stilling while he glared at me. Doc tugged the needle one last time, picked up a tiny pair of scissors, and cut the thread.

“Done. Eighteen, brand new stitches.”

I craned my neck and rotated my shoulder, examining his work. “Good job.”

“Naturally.” He gathered his supplies, putting things where they went, and placing them in his bag. Then he pulled out a roll of gauze and ointment.

“I want you to go downstairs and put Jennifer on the no access list. Also, have someone come up here and change the lock code tonight. I don’t trust her.”

“No shit. We ain’t seen the last of her.”

Grumbling, I took a quick sip. “I know. I’m starting to regret messing with her.”

“Starting? Why would you even tap something so close to home?”

Grinning, I winked. “The challenge, of course. I was doing pretty good, too, until y’all came home early. What the hell made her come home so soon? And why the fuck didn’t you stop her?” I asked, resituating to sit up straighter.

Wyatt turned his profile to me to stare out the window. Clearing his throat, he thumbed his nose, appearing uncomfortable. “She wanted to come home. I tried to talk her into going downstairs for coffee. She wouldn’t have it.”

“And you couldn’t have warned me?” I was getting pissed now that the adrenaline was calm, and I was thinking straight.

“You always hold your phone when you’re fucking a broad? Would you have stopped banging her to answer it?”

I deflated, swirling the red liquid around the glass. “Yeah, probably not.”

Doc was wrapping the gauze around my bicep. “Hold right here.”

I set the drink on the side table and pressed where he indicated. He tore off a piece of surgical tape and carefully spread it out, holding the gauze in place. Replacing the cap to the ointment, he tossed it next to my glass.

“In the morning, take that off and put more of that on. Keep it clean and after tomorrow, keep it uncovered. You don’t want that thing staying moist.”

“Ew, why, man? Why did you have to use that word?”

His mustache twitching to his laughter, he was cleaning up his mess. “Word of advice, son,” he sighed, closing his bag. “You love her, keep the little winkie in your pants. Being faithful is a hell of a lot easier than killing the only woman you’ve ever loved and dealing with the heartache and guilt the rest of your life. Grow up, kid,” he added, flicking my ear with his middle finger.

I hissed, shoving his hand away and rubbing the sting.

“Agreed,” muttered Wyatt. “You can’t go around fucking anything you want forever. You can’t have it both ways.”