The Cowboy’s Valentine: Steamy Mail Order Bride Western Romance (Courage County Brides) by Mia Brody

Author:Mia Brody [Brody, Mia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-01-31T18:30:00+00:00

Valentine

I ignore the rush of disappointment as we’re seated at a table in the Celtic Tavern. The lovely music features guitars and flutes with an upbeat tempo that’s a mixture of browns and greens, like looking at a forest floor.

I thought for sure after our kiss that Ethan would want to go back to our honeymoon suite. I even thought I saw desire in his eyes but instead, he suggested getting something to eat.

When I told him I’d already gotten what I wanted for my birthday, I meant it. I’m happy to be with him. I hope he feels the same way. He runs so hot and cold sometimes. Pulling away from me one moment only to wrap his arms around me and kiss me senseless the next.

He pushes a menu toward me and takes one himself. This was easier last night when the lighting was dim. I pretended to look at the menu then I waited until Gray appeared. When he did, I told him I wanted the chicken.

Since I’m not sure if chicken is even an option here, I take the menu and try to scan it. I’m looking for familiar keywords. But I’m nervous that Ethan is about to catch on, so all the letters are jumping more than usual.

I can feel his gaze on me so I put down the menu and slide it toward him. I give him my sweetest smile. “Why don’t you order for both of us?”

He stares at the menu with the hand-drawn Irish Harp on the front of it. But he doesn’t pick it up the way I expected. “Is that part of it? Struggling to read?” When he glances at me, there’s no judgment in his gaze, only curiosity.

My stomach hurts. He’s realized he got the stupid wife. “I don’t know.” The truth is, there’s a lot about the way my brain works that I don’t understand. I moved around from school to school enough that most people didn’t catch on. If the teachers ever suspected something was wrong, they never acted on it.

He stretches his legs out under the table and his jean-clad knees bump mine. Even through the barrier of our clothes, I feel his body heat. “So you hear music as colors and struggle to read. Is there anything else about it?”

Talking about this with Stella was one thing. She seemed to get me. She was a kindred soul, also misunderstood by most of the people around her. They didn’t understand why she dyed her hair green or how she could know someone’s date of death with just a peek at their palm.

“Words have taste,” I finally murmur, my gaze on the table. Stella’s theory was that the brain is a giant circuit board with wires to the different senses. She said some of my wires must have grown together when I was young, causing me to associate senses that don’t normally work in tandem. Oddly enough, her explanation helped me make sense of my own mind.

“All of them?”

“Most of them and only when a single word is said.

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