Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 60081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
She scampers off to meet Wren, her arms held out for a hug. I wave at Wren with a grin, then start down to the tables, where my mom has just arrived with the last piece of the master plan.
I deliver the croissants and juice and head over to where she’s joined Sarah Beth in the pancake line, instantly worried by the shine in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I murmur, placing a hand on her back.
She swipes at her eyes with a shaky grin. “Nothing, I’m just so happy for you. And Grammy would be, too.” She lowers her voice to a whisper as she presses the ring box into my hand. “She told me to pretend it was lost when you asked for her ring for Nicky. Honest to God, she came to me in a dream and made me promise to wait to give it to you until you found the right one. You aren’t mad, are you?”
I smile. “No. She was right. And thank you. This means so much to me.”
Mom pats my arm. “Of course, honey. Now, go get romantic. I’ll keep an eye on Sarah Beth and make sure she doesn’t go into sugar shock.”
Sarah Beth, who’s been laser focused on the pancakes, turns to shoot her grandmother a narrow look. “I can handle four pancakes, Grammy. I can. My stomach is five years old now. I’m starting half day kindergarten in the fall!”
Mom nods indulgently. “Yes, I know. But growing stomachs need protein, too. Not just sugar. How about two pancakes and two pieces of bacon?”
“Three pancakes and one piece of bacon,” Sarah Beth counters.
I leave them bargaining for nutritional balance and head over to the small table by the gazebo that Fred set aside for me and Tatum. There are already two glasses of champagne waiting, as well as the fairy house Sarah Beth and I made at her ceramics class two weeks ago. Her teacher very sweetly fired it ahead of schedule so it would be ready for the big day.
With a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure Tatum isn’t watching, I slip the ring out of the box and tuck it just inside the fairy “door,” the small opening at the front just big enough to tuck a candle in. Then I stuff my hands in my pockets and fight to quiet my racing heart.
I’ve just about pulled my shit together when two large hands clap down on my shoulders, and I nearly jump out of my skin. I spin to see Barrett and our younger brother, Christian, the only actual biker in our family, standing behind me. “Shit, you scared me.”
“You should be scared,” Christian says, grabbing my shoulders again from the front this time. “This is a big deal. This is forever, man. Are you sure you’re ready? I mean, Tatum’s great, but you’ve only known each other three months.”
I know he’s just teasing—Chris loves Tatum, too—but I can’t help but bristle.
Before I can tell my little brother to stuff it, however, Barrett surprises me by saying, “Leave him alone. He and Tatum are perfect together. And when you know, you know.”
I nod his way. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Barrett shoots me a tight smile before glancing over to where Tatum and Wren are getting in line for pancakes, talking animatedly and laughing in the warm May morning. “I’ll go tell her you need to speak with her. I should welcome Wren back, anyway, so…”
I hum beneath my breath. “Yeah, you should. Be nice to her.”
“Nice is a stupid thing to be,” Barrett mutters. “I’m honest. Anyone worth their salt knows honest is better than nice.”
He starts toward the food line and Christian sighs. “Well, that doesn’t bode well. Why can’t he see that she’s crazy about him?”
“Or that he’s crazy about her?” I agree with a shrug. “But it’s none of our business, I guess.”
Christian smirks, his blue eyes flashing. “Since when has that stopped a McGuire from sticking their nose in? I’m going to pull him aside later, after he’s had a few, and tell him I want to date Wren.” His laugh is absolutely diabolical. “See what he has to say about that.”
I exhale through my teeth. “Okay, but if you need a ride to the hospital, don’t come crying to me. I’m going to be on my way to the airport.”
“With your beautiful new fiancée,” Christian finishes, making me shoot him a hard look. He lifts his hands. “I know, I know, don’t jinx it. But you can’t jinx true love, brother. That’s the best part about it.”
A loud gobbling sound fills the air, making Chris turn and curse beneath his breath as Wren’s little sister, Starling—their mom had a bird fetish, apparently—comes walking down the hill with Kyle on his leash.
“Shit, not that thing again,” Christian says. “I keep telling Starling we don’t need a psychotic turkey in the fundraiser flyer picture, but she won’t listen.”