Gray had traveled. Lived an exciting life. And was still a very handsome man, if a little worse for wear. She had no doubt he had been with all sorts of beautiful women. They always flocked to dangerous men. And whatever else Gray was, he was definitely dangerous. When he could stay awake, that is.
She took a deep breath and said it all in a rush. “I’m probably not the type of woman you expected you’d marry.”
His eyes widened. “Mercy, I’m a gunfighter. I never expected I’d marry at all, or even live long enough for the thought to cross my mind.”
Her shoulders sagged. Partly in relief, though there was more than a little disappointment, too. At what, she didn’t want to examine too closely. What had she expected him to do? Declare his undying love and admiration? He barely knew her. He was only in this spot because she’d badgered him into it, and he was apparently too honorable (who knew?) to back out. And besides, did she even want him to go waxing poetic? She barely knew him, either, and what she did know was…well, colorful, to say the least.
“Hey,” he said, startling her out of her thoughts. He touched her chin, lightly turning her face to look at him more fully. “I know I couldn’t have ever expected all this to happen. But if I do have to be saddled with a wife…” That lopsided grin of his took the sting out of his words and sent her stomach careening again. “Well, you aren’t such a bad choice.”
Mercy laughed. “Aren’t you just the flatterer.”
His grin widened. “I mean it. You’re strong, brave, smart, and stubborn as a mule. That’s a compliment, by the way,” he added when she gasped. Then he just stared at her for a heartbeat, as though he wasn’t sure what to say or wasn’t sure if he should say it. Finally, he shook his head. “Your eyes are the exact color of a field of bluebells I passed once. Soft blue but with flecks of gold like when the sun hits ’em. And when you get your dander up, they flash pure fire.”
She no longer worried if he’d hear her heart. Because it had just stopped altogether.
He shrugged. “Maybe it won’t be so bad. It’s been a while since I knew where I’d be lying my head every night.”
Mercy’s cheeks flushed hot with the sudden realization that as her husband he might have the expectation of laying his head beside hers. Their engagement might have been fake, but this marriage would be very real. And he would be well within his rights to expect it to be real…in every way. And…she wasn’t sure she hated that idea.
“Of course, you can’t cook worth a damn, but with Martha feeding me lunch, at least I’ll be sure of one decent meal every day,” he said.
“Oh!” She shoved him and he chuckled, capturing her hand. And then he pressed a kiss to the back of it.
She sucked in a breath. For an inept, laze-about, retired killer, he could certainly be charming when he wanted to be.
“So?” he asked.
She slowly released her breath and stood. “All right, then. Let’s go get hitched.”
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