the hell?” Wayne snapped. He was already on edge from the angry rock one of the younger guys was playing at full blast at the other end of the room.
“Chill, bro. I’m high on life. God, I can’t wait to be married. Monica decided we’ll be living at her place for the time being, but her folks want to buy us a house for a wedding gift. Can you believe it? Am I the luckiest guy on earth, or what?”
“I’m happy for you,” Wayne said. “If you’re sure this is what you want?”
“Of course, it is. I love her, she loves me. Done deal.”
Logan dropped his towel to pull on boxers.
Wayne returned to his locker; he’d brushed and brushed, but there always seemed to be more sand. Story of his life.
“Are you and Baby Momma getting hitched for real?”
“Don’t call her that,” Wayne said with an angry crackle to his tone. “And no. After my last go-round with marriage, I’m never doing it again. We’ll fake the license. I’ll talk with Pastor Jim at the rehearsal—explain about Dad.”
Logan whistled. “That sounds fun.”
“Screw you. It never would have gone this far if you and Monica hadn’t invited yourselves to what would have otherwise been an ordinary weekend.”
“Keep telling yourself that, buddy.” Logan slapped his shoulder. “You were drowning in this from the first day you popped the question to your girl.”
“She’s not my girl and you started this whole thing by suggesting I rent a wife.”
Laughing, Logan said, “I didn’t know you’d be stupid enough to actually do it.”
“Yo—how come no one else is invited to your weddings?” Lion wandered up. Big, blond and sometimes scary, Lion had been given his call sign for his tendency to roar when going into battle. Plus, his furrowed brows made him look perma-pissed.
“Agreed.” Monk was next in the complaint line. His name came from his preference to hole up with his Bible during leave as opposed to hitting bars. He kept his hair buzzed so short that no one remembered the shade other than buzz-black. “Friends don’t let friends hit an open bar alone.”
“Since when do you even drink?” Logan asked Monk.
“I drink plenty—only, since I stick with fine wines, none of you beer guzzlers ever see it.”
The room erupted in laughs.
Wayne slammed his locker door, escaping the crowd to let Logan handle the mess he’d created.
Outside in the blazing sun, he gulped fresh air.
The worst part of this whole thing was that the more he was around Paisley, the more he enjoyed her company. She was a good woman. Sweet and funny. Cute and yet still somehow sexy. She was the kind of total package that if he had been looking, he might be interested in catching. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t. He had his career to consider. His dying father. His mother.
Plus, he’d already tried marriage once and it was a complete failure.
In his truck, he didn’t just drive to his apartment complex, but to Paisley. For some odd reason, he craved being with her. Getting to know her. He wasn’t typically a touchy-feely guy, but for once, considering what he was going through with his dad, he’d go with it.
With her.
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