The Reason I Married Him (Almond Bay, #2)

by Meghan Quinn

Everything about it was like living out a wet dream . . . well, not everything. There she was, tits bouncing in my face, rocking over my erection as I brought the cup of coffee up to my mouth. The smell was . . . heinous. But coffee can be sour sometimes, so I took a sip, and that was when the white light of death flashed before my eyes. I felt the skin on my face peel back. My teeth pushed forward, out of my mouth, like a horse reaching for a carrot. And my armpit hairs twisted in a spiral, indicating the Grim Reaper was on his way, my name on a tombstone being carefully carried in his skeletal hands. It was official. With one sip, Clearwater Coffee was the most disgusting coffee to ever pass my lips. Some might classify it as sludge.

Thank God we hadn’t planned a honeymoon because she’d had a big coffee conference to attend. We were going to decide on something after that. Good luck at your conference, Cadance. Your coffee tastes like burnt tires that ran through a pile of fresh manure.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I say. The fucking irony. Small towns are not for me, Aubree. I’m destined for so much more. He treated this town like a disease, wanting to sprint away from here as fast as he could when, in reality, he knows this is the best place to be. “Hey . . . language.” Ryland nods toward Mac, who is drinking her milk with two hands on the cup. “Sorry. But . . . are you fucking serious?” “Aubree,” Ryland warns again. Mac sets her drink down and wipes the back of her hand over her mouth before saying, “Uncle Ry Ry, you say fuck all the time.”

“Mac, don’t say the F-word,” he says. “I didn’t. I just told you that you say fuck. That’s a bad word.” “Yes, I realize that,” Ryland says. “So don’t say it.” “I didn’t,” Mac defends. “You said fuck.” Ryland pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just say the F-word.” “You want me to say fuck?” she asks, confused. If I wasn’t so dumbfounded and sick to my stomach at the moment, I’d laugh at the hilarity that is Ryland trying to teach Mac what to say and what not to say. “I think he means use the term F-word instead of saying fuck,” Hattie says softly. “Only if you guys say it,” Mac says, a lift to her chin. Oooh boy, good luck, Ryland. “We will do better,” Ryland says, staring me down.

Will that happen here on the farm? They’re all going to love him, and I’m going to fall to the wayside, so much so that they’ll form a mutiny. Then I’ll be asked to step down from my role while Wyatt takes over. And then what? I don’t ensure my sister’s dreams come true, while Wyatt turns the farm into a fully high-functioning modern farm with cows and milkers and creamers and God knows what, with the most beautiful cherry trees George Washington’s ghost has ever seen. People from miles away will visit the farm to look at the cherry trees. News reporters will flock to Almond Bay to interview the man-wonder who turned around a potato farm that saved the planet with a thing as simple as starch. He’ll receive awards. The president will call and name a day in honor of him where everyone gets off work. Wyatt Day. But I won’t get it off because I’ll be working a retail job somewhere open on Wyatt Day because that’s the day that everyone buys a potato,

Wyatt: I’d like to know that when I get my balls chopped off, you’ll be there to nurse me back to health. Laurel: Are you going to want to be nursed back to health if your balls are chopped off? You’re not a starfish. They won’t grow back. Wyatt: You don’t know my body’s abilities. Laurel: Aw, you started a fresh state of denial. It’s good to see you growing.

Wyatt: All I care about is if they have feelings toward the book. Aubree: What do you mean by that? Wyatt: Well, if they read my book and my words don’t elicit any sort of emotion, good or bad, then I didn’t do my job. I didn’t captivate them. But if they read my book and they rain over me with praise and love for a job well done, or one-star me because they were pissed about a choice I made as an author, I’m happy because guess what? I made them feel something.

“Tell me . . . Mrs. Preston, how would you play with mine?” I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the way he’s holding me so possessively, but I actually hear myself answering. “I’d kneel between your legs,” I say while my hand falls to his thigh. His teeth pull over his bottom lip. “Undo your pants and gently pull you out.” “Then what?” he asks. “Run my tongue along the underside of your cock until you’re fully erect.” “Fuck yes,” he says as his hold on my jaw grows tighter. “Then I’d lower my head and circle your cock with my tongue, over and over again, until you were panting.”

“I would fucking love that, baby,” he answers. “Would you make me desperate to come in your mouth?” “I would⁠—” “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen!” the emcee for the night shouts into the microphone, startling both Wyatt and me away from each other. “Shit,” he whispers while softly looking back at me. Shit is right. What the hell were we just doing? Did I tell him I’d lick the underside of his cock?

“I want one more from you, Aubree.” “I don’t think . . . I don’t think I can.” She breathes heavily. “Yes, you can,” I say. Her breasts are anything but big, less than a handful, but they’re round with small dark nipples that have my mouth watering. Images of her last night in her lace bra scour through my mind as I lower my mouth to the little nubs and run my tongue around in circles, focusing on her areolas. “Come on, baby. I want to hear those sweet moans one more time.”

And just to test the waters, I hold my hand out to her to take. She looks up at me for a moment, stands . . . and then takes my hand. I hold my breath, not wanting to scare her away, because Jesus Christ, she’s holding my hand. Everyone, stay calm. I SAID, STAY CALM!

It wasn’t until I started asking for assistance, interviewing crime analysts and forming a group of like-minded author friends, that I found some success. It takes a visionary to start a project and a village to complete it.” He lifts my chin with his finger. “Don’t be caught digging a ditch by yourself with a spoon. Take the help from the person with the excavator.”

Wyatt: Noted. I’ll stick with babe. Oh, Laurel is beckoning me. Time to head to the farm. See you down the aisle, babe. Aubree: See you down the aisle . . . ass clencher. Wyatt: **Clutches heart** You woo me with your romance.