Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

Can I speak to you in private?
No, don’t say that. Adding occasion to this will just piss him off.
So Liv and I…like since we’re moving into the old lighthouse…I was
like…wondering if…
Ugh. Why am I stuttering? After four years, I’m no more comfortable
around this man than I ever was. Direct works best, but I feel like if I open
my mouth and don’t prepare myself, I’ll puke.
I open my mouth and then close it, my skin vibrating, and a light sweat
dampening it.
“Are you okay?” I hear someone ask.
I look up, seeing Macon frozen under the hood and watching me.
“Um, yeah. Why?”
He starts working again. “You look like you have something to say.”
I swallow a few times to wet my throat, but I realize I’m wringing my
fingers, and I stop immediately.
“I…um…” I can’t catch my breath.
He stops again and looks up, and I sense that Army has stopped what he’s
doing, as well, watching.
Just say it. Jesus.
I suck in a breath. “I would like to marry your sister.”
He stands there, and he doesn’t even look like he has a heartbeat as he
stares at me.
My stomach roils, and I cough to stop myself from throwing up.
I mean, is he surprised? Liv and I have been together since high school.
We’ve weathered separation, doubt, a few fights, uncertain futures, and
where our careers would take us. She even left Dartmouth for a week and
came home because we couldn’t stand to be apart anymore.
Until I convinced her to go back, that is.
We just bought the lighthouse, and now we’re renovating it. He knows
we’re in this forever.
“And you want me to what?” he asks. “Ask her if she likes you, but just
don’t tell her you like her unless I know she likes you first or something?”
Such an asshole. “I’m asking for your blessing.”
“My permission, you mean?” he corrects, amusement lighting up his
expression.
I clench my jaw, my stomach all right now, but my anger rises to take its
place.