Page 11 of The Growly Outcast’s Promise

ME: We didn’t have sex.

I don’t know why I typed that. Or sent it, but there, it’s out there now.

LIZZIE: What did you do?

I knew if I didn’t tell her, she’d never stop bugging me. Eventually she’d just text Greyson and ask him. She had no boundaries.

ME: He just got me off.

ME: Now I’m kinda freaking out.

ME: He was pissed about my shapewear.

ME: Literally sliced it off my body with his pocketknife.

LIZZIE: He did not!

ME: Totally did.

LIZZIE: OMG! That is so hot.

LIZZIE: You should have jumped his bones right then and there.

ME: You know that’s not how this is going to be.

LIZZIE: Please tell me you’re not going to be that stupid.

“Burgers okay? Harder to drive and eat a taco and I’d rather not go inside. Unless that’s what you want,” he says.

“No, that’s fine. I love a good burger.”

He pulls off and into a drive thru. “You need go to the bathroom?”

“Nope, I’m good.”

He orders our food, and I ignore the incessant buzzing of my phone while we wait.

Greyson reaches over and rubs my neck. His big hand cups the back of my head where he massages gently. It feels amazing.

“Tired darlin’?” he asks.

“Yes. It’s been a long week.”

“We can sleep in tomorrow before we drive to Saddle Creek,” he says.

It’s then that I realize we haven’t actually discussed anything about this marriage or our life afterwards.

“That Lizzie?” he asks when my phone vibrates again.

“Probably.”

“You can call her if that would be easier.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Hey married lady,” she says when she answers my call.

“Can you just tell me all the things you’ve been texting me?”