Say You Want Me(35)

He runs his tongue across his teeth and makes a tsk sound. “You think so, huh?”

I shrug. “What would Martha Stewart do?”

“All right, Big City. Let’s go help Mama since you’re in a giving mood.”

We walk through the crowds, and I make him stop every few stands to check out some of the things for sale. There’s one booth off to the right that has horseshoes dangling from the front. They have different plaques with names painted on them, a few sewn projects, but I love the horseshoes more than anything. They’re all engraved with whatever you want on them. I touch the cool metal over the name engraved on the bottom of the display one. “Can we get one?” I ask Wyatt.

He looks perplexed. “Of course, but for what?”

“Well, I was thinking at the bottom it can say: ‘Hennington’. Then on the side here,” I point to the left, “we can put the date of conception, and on the other side, we can have it updated to the baby’s birthday?”

The smile he gives me lights up the sky. After spending the last twenty-four hours with him, I want to do something special. He baked cupcakes, gave me a stellar orgasm, made me coffee, and so many other things in a small bit of time. It may be insignificant to some, but to me, it means everything. No one ever thinks of me like that. I’ve never had a man give up his time or go out of his way just because.

Wyatt does that, though, and he does it without selfish intentions. He gives the parts of himself willingly because he has so much more to offer. He doesn’t have to tuck pieces of his heart away like I do. He just is.

“I think it’s a great idea. We can hang it over the door of the nursery once we get that together” His lips press against my cheek. “I love it.”

“I’m glad it makes you happy.”

He gazes at me before looking away. “You being here makes me happy.”

“I had a really great time last night. It was fun.”

“Me too.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Not that!” I clarify.

Wyatt chuckles. “I know, baby. I had a really good time with you, too. It was fun working beside you.”

“Good. You were a lot of help. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

I don’t remember if I told him that, but he deserves to know it.

We place the order, and we’re told they’ll mail it to us in a few days.

I wave to Presley and Zach as we pass the Townsend’s booth. She mouths: help me. I shake my head and keep moving as we enter where more fair games are.

There’s a little pool with fishing rods to get the frogs and a stand with jugs you have to throw the ball to knock down. “I hate that game,” I say as we pass it.

“Me too.” Wyatt laughs. “My stupid brother would always pick it.”

“Why the hell would you go against the star baseball player in a throwing game?” I ask. Seems a little stupid to me.

“We would rock, paper, scissors for who could choose. Zach always won, so Trent and I were destined to lose.” Wyatt explains.

Presley warned me about the three of them. She explained that as much as they bicker, they’re unbelievably close. They take the meaning of brothers very serious. If one calls, they all go. She said it’s the way they’ve always been, and that by dating Wyatt, there’s a very clear message that they’ll have to deal with all the Henningtons if anyone fucks with me. It sounded like the Southern version of the mafia.

“Wyatt! Angie!” Macie yells with her arms open “There you are!”

“Sorry, Mama.”

“Don’t be sorry. Trent is tired, and at this point we’re starting to lose money.” She laughs. “I’m going to have to start paying people to kiss him.”

Kiss? I look around, and spot Trent sitting in a booth with lips all over it and a sign that reads: Kisses for a Dollar.

Umm. I’m not really sure how I feel about this.

I grab his arm. “You didn’t tell me it was a kissing booth.” My voice is low, and I’m sure he hears the undercurrent of irritation.

“Awww, you’re jealous.”

“I am not.”

I don’t get jealous. It’s not like we’re married or even really dating. I mean, we are, but that’s not the point. The point is, I don’t get jealous. I’ve never been like that, and I’m not going to start now. I’m just not looking forward to watching girls kiss him when I’m not even supposed to be kissing him. That’s all. I’m also a hormonally imbalanced freak with a baby sucking up all my common sense.

“Then why do you care what kind of booth it is?” His brow raises. “I mean, wasn’t it you who said I should help my mama?”