Chapter 40

“Why do you put up with me?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Why do we put up with each other? That’s the question. I’d say it was because I love you, but sometimes I’m not sure.”

“Thank you.”

“Maybe I just want to inherit all your millions, since you’re a famous writer and all.”

In spite of myself, I had to chuckle. Like most writers, I was in no position to quit my day job. And it was Jackson Ledbetter who stood to inherit millions.

“I do kind of love you, you know,” he said, putting a hand on my cheek. “You’re growing on me. ‘My old man’—I like the sound of that. Maybe it’s a daddy fetish.”

“I’m not that old!”

“Well, you ain’t no spring chicken, Wiley Cantrell. Got yourself a little bit of a double chin going on there, don’t you?”

“I do not!”

“I was looking at your backside the other day. I didn’t realize I was married to a sumo wrestler.”

“I am notfat!”