Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Oh, that’s no good.” He turns to Maddox, solemn. “You don’t want another man to see her and no ring. She’ll be at the beach with no ring and …” He shrugs. “I’m just telling you the truth. I’ve seen it before. I’ve worked here for forty years, and I’ve seen it. More than once.”
I giggle at his obvious attempts at making a sell.
“You’re right,” Maddox says. “Birdie, pick a ring.”
I elbow him in the stomach.
“How about this one?” The shopkeeper points at a gawdy, heart-shaped monstrosity that would be the last ring I would pick. “Very elegant.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Maddox watching me. He’s amused.
“What would my wifey like?” he asks cheekily. “I’m thinking the heart-shaped one.”
I shift from one foot to the other, feeling uncomfortable. “How much are these? They might not even fit either. Then I’ll have two rings that I can’t wear.”
“I will make you a great deal.”
“Let’s try this one.” Maddox picks up the heart-shaped ring and slides it on my finger. “It feels just like the day we said our vows.”
Laughing, I hold my finger in the air. It fits like a glove. Of course, it does.
“It’s destiny,” the man says. “That’s forty dollars.”
Maddox pulls out his wallet.
“Let me pay for it,” I say, embarrassed that he’s being pressured into doing this. “Besides, I have the stuff for Becca anyway.”
He gives me a look not to mess with him and plucks the gifts for my friend out of my hands. Then he turns to the cash register.
“We’ll take all of this too,” Maddox tells the man, setting a few smaller objects that I didn’t realize he was holding next to my stuff.
The man looks at him with a smile. “Good selections.”
“I got my mom something,” Maddox says to me. “They had these little sand hourglass things that my grandma collected, and she has them displayed in her office.”
What a sweet thought. So absolutely Maddox.
Gah. That has to be the multiple orgasms talking. I don’t normally gush about men. Or while orgasming … Yet another Maddox victory.
Could he be any more perfect?
The checkout process is quick. With a final goodbye, we’re back on the sidewalk.
“You didn’t have to buy me that—or Becca’s stuff,” I say.
He laces his fingers through mine and slides his sunglasses over his eyes. “Quiet.”
“Oh, you think saying quiet to me will make me be quiet? If that’s what you’re after, you didn’t choose your wife very well.”
“I chose perfectly. Because I know if we were alone right now, this would end in a little back-and-forth, and you’d be naked within five minutes.”
“You only want me for sex, don’t you?”
“Obviously not. Sex is better when you’re not married. Although …” He dips his head and looks at me over his sunglasses. “I’m not sure how that would be possible.”
I wrinkle my nose at him.
“What’s that?” He stops and points at a stand with metal sculptures of birds. They’re bright colors and very abstract and also . . . very adorable. “We’re getting you one.”
“What am I going to do with that?” I laugh.
“Put it in your new house—but not Ugly Door House.” He rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”
My smile reaches ear to ear. “Obviously.”
EIGHTEEN
Ashley
I drape my arms over the railing and stare into the night.
The ocean at this time has always fascinated me. If the moon is covered and the sky is dark, the water takes on a new identity. Its presence is even stronger than it is during the day when its expanse can be appreciated. After dusk, it becomes this invisible giant lurking just out of view.
I breathe in the salty air and hold it, letting it stretch my lungs.
Unlike my usual relationship with thinking at night—when my worries take the shape of concerns about whether my car doors are locked or if the oven is still on, tonight’s mindfuck is slightly different.
Tonight, I can’t just get up and ensure the oven is off.
Tonight, there are no answers.
I groan softly so as not to wake Maddox in the room behind me.
I lay beside him for hours and watched the moonlight flicker across his face. I studied him without fear of him catching me, without worrying if I looked like one of the girls who bat their lashes in the hope he might smile their way. I cataloged every freckle on his cheeks, every line around his eyes, the mole just under his hairline at the top of his forehead.
The slope of his shoulder. His birthmark, so faint, on his right pectoral muscle and the one gray hair hiding in the stubble dusting his jaw.
How did I ever miss all of the layers of this man? How did I not see just how kind, thoughtful, and patient he really is?
I hang my head, letting my hair drape over the rail.