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Clearly, he hadn’t.
Chapter 3
Oracle
I stare at my reflection in the mirror.
Great sex.
All of this because of great sex.
I shake my head, knowing that lying to myself would be pointless.
The woman is a fox, a straight-up fucking eleven with her sandy blonde hair and legs that make my mouth water even now while I’m pissed.
I drop my gaze, that fucking gold band on my hand like a flashing red flag, yet I don’t reach down and pull it off.
More of last night flashes through my head, and concentrating, shoving away all the breathlessness and the way our bodies moved together, brings several events back to my mind of how I acted and just how involved in all of this I was.
I was drawn to the woman. It was as if there was a halo of light above her head in that damn bar. She was irresistible. Squeezing my eyes closed, I can still hear the warning from Walker, the bartender. He urged me to look elsewhere, that her brand of crazy wasn’t compatible with any sane man. I found it a challenge. She was smoking hot in her short black dress and shimmery high heels. She was temptation personified. I approached with the same line I always use, her laughter expected. The way she halted it and looked at me with such seriousness when she asked me if that tired shit actually worked on women is what got me hooked.
I spent the next fifteen minutes wearing her down, waiting to hear that perfect chuckle, one that was so different from the fake one she used when I had first approached.
Conversation turned from flirty and fun to serious a little quickly for my liking, but there was just something about her, something that made me want to lean in closer when she spoke of how she was the town outcast. She even said she knew Walker had warned me about her.
I still feel a hint of the guilt I felt last night when she called me out on it.
I lift my eyes to the mirror, my gaze focusing on the scratch marks down my right shoulder.
“No,” I growl, a warning to myself.
I don’t give a shit how hot she is. It doesn’t matter that last night was possibly the best sex I’ve ever had, and I can’t even remember all of it.
I can’t stay married to a woman I don’t know. Marriage was never in the cards for me. An eternal bachelor, which was always my goal in life. Spending a little time with a lot of women rather than spending a lot of time with one woman was always my motto. I’m not a heartbreaker. I don’t make promises and then change my mind. I don’t tell women things they want to hear just to get them in bed before pulling the rug out from under them after getting what I want. I’m upfront about my expectations. As I turn the knobs for the shower, I recall the conversation I had last night with Beth.
She complained about her life, told me about her troubles and how she makes hasty decisions, things she always regrets, and how the people in town all have an opinion about her.
I was the one to mention marriage first. I know myself enough to know that it was an off-handed comment, something I wasn’t serious about, but then she challenged me, told me to put my money where my mouth was.
I argued that we couldn’t get it done. I knew it was too late. I knew it couldn’t happen, but then she asked what if it could? Would I follow through if she could find a judge to marry us?
I agreed, knowing how impossible it was. There was no way there was someone qualified who would be willing to allow us into their home or to meet us somewhere that would result in a legally binding union.
She obviously proved me wrong. I think this is exactly what my drill sergeant was talking about when he warned us against making life decisions without knowing all the details.
As I step into the shower and lift my face to the warm water, I recall seeing the disappointment on her brother’s face when he opened the door.
He asked me if I knew what I was doing. I can still feel hints of the anger I felt last night when he looked at his sister as if he had a lifetime of frustration with her.
I told him I was of sound mind and body, despite the liquor on my breath. When she squeezed my hand and told me maybe this was a bad idea, I told her it wasn’t.
I said my vows, and she said hers. That first kiss, the one witnessed by her brother in a house that reeked of cats and a dirty litter box, made me feel the earth move. I tangled my hands in her hair and urged her closer to me until he cleared his throat and asked us to leave.
