Page 96 of Heartstrings & Horseshoes

“Naw, I wouldn’t let you die unless you took me with you. I can’t live without you.”

As we touch softly and kiss sweetly, I remember I have something to tell her.

“Guess what happened while you were at the store?”

“What?” Her face lights with mischief.

“I caught James sneaking out of Liv’s bedroom.” Delilah slaps my chest, hard.

“No, you did not!” she whisper-exclaims.

“I did. And I fucked with him a bit to see if he’d confess.” I chuckle.

“Did he?”

“No. I figure, let them have their fun before Greyson finds out and murders James and puts him six feet under,” I say.

We whisper and laugh, enjoying keeping the secret between us.

Somehow, I manage to get to the evening without blowing my cover and ruining my plans. Reid’s been making pointed eye contact with me for the past hour, but I’m waiting for the last text from CJ confirming we’re good to go.

My phone buzzes, still on silent, but I wait to check it until Delilah turns the other way. Seeing that the plan is in motion, I make a show of checking my phone and “reading a text.”

“Shit,” I say louder than necessary, and Reid rolls his eyes.

“One of the ranch hands texted. One of the boarded horses is showing signs of colic and he’s not comfortable handling it himself.”

Izzy folds into Reid, shellshocked. He dotingly rubs her back.

“Reid, if you’re comfortable with it, I’ll head back right now and get eyes on the horse,” I offer—the lie sweet on my tongue.

“That’d be great. Thanks for letting us enjoy our honeymoon.” He kisses Izzy’s hand.

“You really don’t mind?” Izzy asks, concerned.

“Not at all. Delilah and I can be packed within the hour and hit the road. Should have eyes on the horse just after midnight,” I say, looking to Delilah for confirmation. Her answer will make or break my entire plan.

“We’ve got this,” she assures her sister.

YES! I shout and fist pump internally. I’m going to pull this off.

We make our rounds hugging everyone and saying our goodbyes before rushing to pack our bags. We’re out the door and on the road in a wink.

“Why don’t you sleep, doll? We’ve got a four-hour drive ahead of us and you need to rest,” I coax.

She yawns. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” I turn up the heater and lower the stereo volume. My doll drifts to sleep in no time at all.

I check the time and am pleased our “four-hour”—seven-hour—drive is on schedule. I set the GPS and turn off the audio notifications.

Settling in for the long haul, I pray my bladder will hold—I intentionally avoided any liquids the last few hours for this very reason.

In less than twelve hours, the woman of my dreams will be my wife.

42

My sleepy eyes open to blackness, hands flying up to meet silky fabric.