Bad Girl Reputation by Elle Kennedy



She jumps up after me. “I’m not done. I didn’t call you out here just to tell you about Randall.”

My heart clenches. I’m not sure I can go another round about us today. Last night was brutal. Even now, I’m not sure how I managed to walk out of there without losing my nerve. If we have to rehash the whole argument, I can’t be certain my resolve will hold. I’ve never been good at saying no to her.

“I stopped for coffee with Harrison on the way here.”

Well, then. There it is.

I swallow the hysterical laughter that bubbles in my throat. Was I really just thinking she’d come here asking me back when I all but shoved her at another man yesterday? Idiot. Gen’s got everything going for her. She doesn’t need my dumb ass making things harder. But this is good, actually. It takes all the wishful thinking and foolish notions right off the table.

“He’s a stand-up guy,” I tell her.

“He is.”

“Still a doofus.” Alright, maybe I can’t help myself. “But he’s nice, polite. Probably sorts his laundry according to the care instructions, so you won’t have to worry about him shrinking your clothes.”

Gen smirks, biting her lip as she turns her head. “You are so weird sometimes.”

“Your kids are going to be short, though. He’s got kind of an odd-shaped head too. That might be hereditary. You should probably put them in karate or something. Get them into boxing. With a cranium like that, they’re gonna need to know how to defend themselves.”

Exasperated, she shakes her head. “Will you stop?” Still, she’s beaming. “I told him I couldn’t see him anymore.”

Our gazes lock. “Why would you do that?”

“Because.” Gen’s smile is so infectious, I can’t help but mimic her. “I told him I was in love with Evan Hartley.”

I can feel my heartbeat in my face. Yet somehow I still manage to play it cool. “That’s so strange, ’cause I know that guy.”

“Uh-huh.” There’s a bizarre gleam in her eyes that’s almost got me frightened. “Took me a little while, but as it turns out, I’ve been in love with him for a long time.”

Part of me wants to throw her over my shoulder and toss caution to the wind, but we ended up here for a reason.

“What about Trina’s coke? You spent the night in jail because of me,” I remind her. “If Randall hadn’t been the one who arrested you, or your dad wasn’t friends with the sheriff, maybe the whole thing doesn’t go away so easy.”

“No, see.” She holds one finger in the air. “I’ve decided I reject your premise.”

She’s so cute sometimes. “Really?”

“Indeed.” She nods sharply. “I already told you, I’m glad I went out with Trina. You said I needed to see that I could go out and have a good time without losing control. And I did. I proved a lot to myself that night. Like I said before, nothing about how it ended was your fault.”

When my expression reveals I’m less than convinced, she digs in.

“You and I could go back to single digits trying to take the blame for everything that ever happened to either of us. It’s a zero-sum game. None of it is useful.”

“It worries me that you’re starting to make sense,” I say, smothering a grin.

“I had to convince myself I’d really changed. To me, that night shows I have. And I did it with you in my life. You know what else? You’ve changed too. For most of the time I’ve known you, you’ve had this chip on your shoulder. Fighting the whole world on a thousand fronts, always ready to throw a punch before it threw one at you. I don’t see that anymore. Like it or not, Evan, you’ve mellowed in your old age.”

“Jesus …” I grab my chest. “Right for the heart, Fred.”

She shrugs at me. “It’s called growth. Get over it.”

I don’t know where this new energy is coming from, but I don’t hate it. She’s alive, happy. Glowing with that old fire and verve. Like she could turn sand to glass with a wink.

“We’ve grown as a couple,” she continues. “But I’m hoping we can grow a little more.”

This feels like being blindfolded, as if she’s walking me around in the dark and I’m following her, a little terrified and expectant. She’s up to something. Something both terrible and exciting. It’s like that first time watching her take a running leap off the pier, but this time she’s got me by the hand.

“I’ve been sitting here for a while. And I was thinking …” Gen steps closer and puts her hands against my chest. My muscles quiver beneath her palms. We both know what her touch does to me. “I think you should probably marry me.”

My mouth goes dry. “That right?”

“Make a whole bunch of babies.”

“An entire bunch?” I can’t feel my fingers. The sounds of the ocean turn to a sharp ringing in my ears as my chest expands with a rush of pure, unfiltered joy.

“I’ll run Mackenzie’s hotel, and you can be the stay-at-home dad raising our seven kids.”

Going quiet for a beat, Gen looks up at me through thick lashes.

Then she holds out a red Blow Pop.

“If you want,” she says impishly, though her expression conveys utter sincerity, “this is me asking.”