Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
She nods slowly. “That’s a good point.”
“It’s our chance to be better than our parents were, right?”
“You really want that? Kids and all?”
“And all,” I confirm, pushing back my chair. I reach out my hand and she takes it. Together, we walk from the bar, leaving the staff to clean up.
Out in the lobby, I steer her toward the tree. She says nothing as we pause beneath the branches. We’re alone in the expansive space, most folks having gone home for the evening. I don’t say anything for a few minutes as we gaze up at the heart of the Oak, at the magic of this living thing here in the middle of a man-made marvel, until I turn to her.
“I love you,” I say, drawing her attention back to me.
“I know that,” she says, smiling slightly. “What’s not to love about me?”
“You’ve become everything to me, Renata.” I won’t let her pithy little comment sidetrack me. “We have a home together. Soon, we’ll have children as well. But first, I need to do something.”
I drop to one knee.
“Lanzo.” Her eyes go wide. “What are you doing?”
“Renata, will you marry me?”
She blinks rapidly. Looks around like I might be talking to someone else. Finally notices the ring I’m holding out. The massive fucking ring.
She nearly chokes. “That thing is absurd!”
“I can get you something else if it isn’t to your liking.”
“No,” she says fiercely. “I mean, yes, of course I’ll marry you. I didn’t know you wanted to do marriage!”
“Only with you.”
“Well then, I suppose I have no other choice but to accept.” She’s beaming as tears stream down her face. “You could’ve warned me, you know.”
“And spoil the surprise?”
I wrap her in my arms and kiss her.
Chapter 45
Renata
Six Months Later
I stretch out on the back veranda looking out toward the pool. An inflatable giraffe blows in the wind, bobbing against the wall. Amy sips from a massive margarita while Fiona and Kat talk about the joys of mothering a brood of children. Meanwhile, I keep both hands on my belly, now four months along and showing a moderate bump.
“It gets worse before it gets better,” Kat says, which is so helpful. “I mean, it also gets really hard, but then it gets easier? But also harder in other ways.” She frowns deeply. “There’s good stuff too. Fiona, tell her the good stuff.”
“Little tiny baby socks,” she says, grinning. “Matching outfits. Snuggling in bed. Tickling. Playing. The first time they call you mommy. The first time they say I love you without prompting. Lots of good stuff.”
“I need more of the good stuff right now,” I grumble, frowning at them.
“I’m sorry you’re so uncomfortable,” Amy says, giving my hand a little squeeze. “But this margarita is really good. Want a virgin?”
“No, I want a tower full of tequila,” I say, glaring at her. Then I soften a bit. “I’m okay though. Just having a cranky day. I’m a little nervous to talk to Lanzo.”
“Why?” Fiona asks, head tilted. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s great. We found out the sex of the baby yesterday and I’ve been thinking about names.” I sigh, closing my eyes. “I just don’t know if he’s going to be okay with my choice.”
Kat snorts. “Like he has a fucking say in that.”
“I’m pretty sure the father has at least a little say,” Fiona comments gently.
“To hell with that. You carried that baby for nine months. You suffered for them. The least you can do is get to pick their damn name.” Kat crosses her arms.
Amy whistles, laughing. “Sounds like someone had an argument.”
Kat waves that away. “I never let it get to an argument. I simply told Ford the names and he accepted them, no questions asked.”
“That’s because Ford adores you,” I point out.
“Lanzo adores you too,” Fiona says. “It’ll be fine. Really.”
I shrug, not wanting to get into it anymore. I’m tired from being forced to sleep on my side, since I’ve been having acid reflux and can’t stay on my back, but I also can’t stay on my stomach on account of the freaking baby. I’m never comfortable, never at ease—
Except every time the baby kicks, I’m reminded that it’s all worth the effort.
Lanzo comes home an hour later. The girls are still out back when I head inside to hunt him down. I find him in the bedroom getting changed. He was doing a job for Carmine—I’m not allowed to know exactly what, but I’m guessing it wasn’t precisely legal—and his clothes look sweaty. “There you are,” he says, coming over to kiss me. “How are my babies?”
“I’m fine. And so is the baby.” I smile a little, some of my tension easing as he kisses me.
“What’s wrong? You’ve got that look on your face.”
“What do you mean, a look?”
“The scowl, like you’re unhappy about something. Tell me straight. Did the girls say something?”