Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
I make it to the top step before I see the white Tesla idling at the bottom of the steps. Before I see Gabe leaning against it. Before my heart skips two beats.
He’s here for me? He’s here for me. You do not crash a wedding rehearsal you were not invited to unless you really like someone. Right? I bite my lip and grab the handrail as he bounds up the steps and stops on the step below mine so we’re eye to eye.
“Why are you here?” I blurt out. Smooth, Sandra. But I need to hear the words.
“I heard you were here.”
“You came for me?”
“Is that okay?” He cocks an eyebrow when he says it, all confidence that my answer will be yes.
“Yeah.” I finally grin. “It is.”
“I think you have a rehearsal dinner to get to?”
“Oh, right.” I snap out of it and look around to see Dave putting Jennifer into the passenger seat of his car and giving me a thumbs up.
“I told him I’d drive you,” Gabe says, seeing where my attention has gone.
“You want to drive me to the rehearsal dinner?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” I trail off, unsure what that means exactly.
“I want to go with you too, if that’s okay.”
“That’s okay.” I smile. “But people from work will be there.” It’s a statement, but my tone conveys that it’s really a question.
“Is that a problem?” he asks, frowning.
“No. It’s not a problem for me.”
“Good.”
I tilt my head and look at him, trying to get a better read on if it’s a problem for him.
“I want you to give me a chance, Sandra. And your phone number. I want you to give me your phone number,” he adds with a self-deprecating smile. “I should have your phone number, but I don’t because I’m a fool. And I want to fix that. And I don’t care who sees me trying to fix that. So let me take you to this rehearsal dinner tonight. And the wedding tomorrow. And next weekend, let me take you on a date I actually pay for.”
“I like you, Gabe.”
He smiles. “I like you too, Sandra.”
“Good.”
“Good,” he says and leans in closer, our lips inches apart, then stops. “I’m going to kiss you now, unless you have any other objections?”
“No,” I respond, flustered. “I mean yes—”
Then I cut myself off and just kiss him.
I think I got it.
Epilogue
You know what today is, don’t you?”
“Hmmm.” I tap my fingertips on Gabe’s bare chest. “Wednesday?” I guess, tilting my head back to look at him.
“No. Well, yes, but not what I’m getting at.”
“Today is March twenty-third?” I try again.
“Also accurate, but wrong.”
I frown and turn my head to rest my chin on his chest. “How can something be both accurate and wrong?”
“Factually correct, but not the answer I’m looking for.”
“Okay.” I shrug. “What’s today?”
“Our anniversary,” he says with a grin.
Um, is it? I rack my brain thinking of what he’s using as a benchmark. The first time we had sex? Our first real date? I’m not following him.
“The quarterly meeting is today,” he says with a sly wink and a laugh.
I slap a hand across my eyes and groan. “That is not our anniversary date. No way.”
“Sure it is. That sex quiz deserves to be celebrated quarterly,” he says as he flips me over and pins my hands over my head. He likes to pin me down when he knows I’m going to blush so I can’t cover my face.
“Stop.” I laugh, turning my head away.
“I cannot believe you’re still blushing over that note,” he says, moving both of my hands into one of his so he can grasp my jaw with the other and turn me towards him.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
“You know I can still see you, right?” He releases my chin to trail his hand lower while pressing his lips to my neck.
“Do not give me another hickey. I will kill you.”
He laughs, his lips vibrating against my skin.
“I’m serious. It’s not turtleneck weather anymore, Gabe. I cannot go to work with a hickey on my neck. I cannot. It’s unprofessional. Childish. And—” And I don’t get another word in because Gabe’s covered my lips with his.
“You know your tits blush too,” he tells me once he’s dragged his lips off of mine.
“Pervert.”
“Yet you love me.”
I do, but I roll my eyes and slip my hands out from under his, then tug his head off my chest. “We have to get ready for work.”
“Five more minutes,” he argues. I give in, because Gabe’s proven it’s worth my while to rush my morning routine.
Gabe drives us to the office, my car still in the parking garage from yesterday. I’ve learned to keep a few outfits at Gabe’s because “have dinner with me after work” turns into an impromptu sleepover at least once a week. We spend most weekends at his condo or my apartment. And last month he took me to Savannah to meet his parents. They just retired there and it was nice to get away. Gorgeous city, the live oak trees in Forsyth Park not something I’m likely to forget. The entire city was lovely, as were his parents. His mom could not contain the smiles whenever Gabe put his arm around me or took my hand.