Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“Sure,” I choke out, refusing to think about how deep his statement runs. Standing between his legs, I wrap my arms around his neck, needing to lighten the mood. “On one condition,” I say, using his words from a few weeks ago against him. “You fuck me on my desk and make me come at least twice.”
“Oh, Red.” He chuckles. “Just for that, I’m not going to stop until you’ve come three times.”
“Do I look okay?”
I glance down at the fourth sundress I’ve changed into and then back up at Julian, who has the nerve to chuckle.
“You look beautiful. Hell, you could wear a potato sack, and you’d still be the most gorgeous woman in the room.”
I roll my eyes and pull the dress off, throwing it onto the bed. “That’s cliché and annoying, Julian Parker. I’m meeting your entire family today. You don’t get it because you might as well be the son my dad always wanted, but this is scary.” I shouldn’t be this nervous to meet my fake future in-laws, yet I am.
“My family’s going to love you,” he says just as the doorbell rings, and I shriek in surprise.
“They’re early!” I gasp, grabbing the dress I just took off and sliding it back on.
“Probably. Frank has this weird saying: To be early is to be on time, to be on time is to be late, and to be late is to be forgotten.”
“Jesus,” I hiss, quickly sliding on my sandals. “My mom used to say it’s better to arrive late than to arrive ugly,” I mutter, reapplying my red lipstick.
Julian laughs, and I glare.
“Breathe,” he says, kissing my cheek. “Everything’s going to go great.”
We rush down the stairs, and just before he opens the door, I grab his arm and glance at him.
“Don’t forget, if anyone asks, I made all the side dishes and desserts.”
He rolls his eyes but nods. “My fiancée is not only a badass marketing analyst, but she’s also a cuisinier.” He grins. “Got it.”
After trying to cook several dishes to impress his mom and sister—who love to cook and bake and, according to him, are damn good at it—and burning and ruining every one, I gave up and ordered from a local restaurant and bakery.
Julian swings open the door and says, “Mom, Frank!” He gives them each a hug while I stand back, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. “I’d love for you to meet my fiancée, Anastasia. This is my mom, Helen, and my stepdad, Frank.”
“You can call me Ana,” I tell them, extending my hand.
Helen glances down at it in confusion, then steps inside and wraps her arms around me in a hug. “It’s so great to finally meet you,” she says, then steps back. “My goodness, you’re even prettier in person.”
“Oh, well, thank you. It’s lovely to meet you both.” I glance from Helen to Frank. “Julian has told me so much about you.”
“All good, I hope,” a young woman says, sauntering through the door. Unlike Julian’s brown hair, hers is blonde, but she has the same emerald eyes he and their mom have. “What’s up, big bro?” She kisses him on the cheek, and he rolls his eyes. “It’s been too long. I started to get worried when you weren’t bugging me about my classes every five seconds, like you usually do.”
“Ana, this bane of my existence is my baby sister, Jessika.”
“His favorite sister,” she argues.
“My only sister.”
“That you know of,” she retorts, making her brother grumble.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Jessika gives me a quick hug and smiles. “I didn’t think we’d ever see the day that Mr. Workaholic would actually settle down, but now, I get it. You’re gorgeous.”
“And smart,” Julian says, pulling me into his side. “Ana has her degree in business marketing and her MBA in hospitality.”
Jessika’s eyes go wide. “Oh, so you’re not a trophy wife, huh? I didn’t see that one coming.”
“Jessika!” Helen hisses. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “My daughter has no filter.”
“It’s okay,” I say, freaking out at how badly this is going. “I’m definitely not trophy-wife material. Hell, I’m not even sure I’m wife material,” I joke and then cringe at how horrible that sounded.
“What I meant is …” I swallow nervously, trying to come up with a way to save this train wreck, but I draw a blank.
“What she meant is,” Julian says, “she’d rather be running a company than doing laundry. And it’s one of the things I love about her.” He glances down at me with mirth twinkling in his eyes. “She’s my biggest competition for the CEO position.”
“Oh,” his mom says. “I didn’t know you worked together. Julian said you met online …”
“We did,” I admit. “But it turns out that my dad is his boss.”
“Samuel Kingston is your father?” Frank says, glancing from me to Julian in confusion. “Why haven’t we seen you at any of the company functions?”