Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“He bought a tiny cabin here when he realized he was going to be spending part of his time here working on legal stuff for the resort. I’m pretty sure he’s planning on coming here after Parker’s wedding to throw himself a pity party. Sam and I are trying to think of things to do to distract him.”
I could see Mikey’s mental machinations. He met my eyes. “Grindr fuck dates. We need to pre-arrange some hookups. Help him screw his way through the heartache.”
I shook my head at the same time Miller nodded enthusiastically.
“No,” Tiller said. “No interfering.”
Truman put his fist under his chin. “I think Mikey’s onto something.”
“Stay out of it, sweetheart,” Sam warned. “Julian’s a grown man. He can figure out his own fucks.”
I opened up my mouth to suggest putting a pin into the conversation until everyone was a little bit less shitfaced drunk, but Miller cut me off.
“I’m in the mood for cookie dick.”
Everyone’s heads swiveled around to our newest group member. “Come again?” I asked with a grin, knowing exactly what he was going to say in response.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he teased, pushing back from the table. “Because the first few times were worth repeating.”
I stood up and threw some cash down on the table before grabbing our coats. “Sorry, guys. Duty calls.”
As I grabbed my man and headed toward the door, I heard Julian ask what the hell cookie dick was.
Mikey answered through his laughter. “Let’s just say it involves frosting and a lot of licking and leave it at that.”
Julian groaned and lay back down on the table as everyone else laughed and continued enjoying their night out.
I squeezed Miller’s hand and opened the door to the cold January air. The night was clear, and the moon shone brightly in the sky. Halfway up the mountain behind the town, I could see the light glinting off the steel of our house, where I’d left fresh flowers on the nightstand and Miller’s favorite music playing softly on the house speakers.
This beautiful, kind man beside me deserved to be spoiled rotten, and I planned on taking my time tonight reminding every square inch of him how deeply he was loved and how grateful I was to be with him.
Miller wasn’t alone in the world anymore, and he never would be again. He was a Marian now. And a Wilde.
But most importantly, he was mine. And we were going to build our future in Aster Valley.
Forever.