Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
I fire off a quick text of my own, feeling my frustration mount. Any real advice?
Roman: Stalk her some more. Learn everything you can about her.
Of course, he’d say that. The guy probably thinks it’s the same thing as dating a woman. Not that Gabby, the petite mechanic in town, seems to mind his attention.
Nash: Learn what she likes. Then do nice stuff for her.
Trace: Sit her down and tell her she’s yours. Problem solved.
It’s obvious my fellow mountain men aren’t likely to become relationship experts any time soon. Still, the idea of finding out what she likes isn’t a bad one. It takes me a moment to figure out how I can do some recon on my girl. Maybe she has a social media account or two. If I’m lucky, I’ll find what I need to woo my new bride.
5
CADENCE
I don’t understand Brennon. I thought when I offered to consummate the marriage, he would want it too. I know he’s attracted to me. Or at least he wants me if the way his bulge was digging into my hip in the bridal suite was any indication. He kept putting his lips on my neck and growling under his breath.
When we arrived at his cabin, he sent me to the bedroom, kissed me on the forehead, and left me alone for the rest of the night. From what I can tell of the bedroom, it appeared to be his room. Maybe I spent most of the night combing through his drawers and his things looking for clues to who he was.
I know from what I’ve managed to piece together from Andrew and his parents that Brennon used to be the CEO of the family company, but something happened to make him step back. Does this mean that Brennon was able to speak at some point? And if he was, what happened that changed him?
After a sleepless night pondering these things, I take a quick shower in the bedroom suite and put on my usual yoga pants and t-shirt. The best part of running a company with my father was the option to wear comfortable clothes. I skip the makeup and move to the kitchen where I can hear the sounds of someone moving about.
Brennon didn’t mention having a housekeeper. But then again, we didn’t really talk last night. I didn’t think to ask him any questions. I was too tired and too overwhelmed by the day we’d had.
When I come into the kitchen, I’m momentarily struck by just how beautiful my husband is. The button-down plaid shirt is stretched tight across his back and when he moves, the material pulls tight across his broad shoulders. His blue jeans are sculpted to his firm ass, and he turns when he hears me enter the room.
His hair is loose, free from the ponytail it was in yesterday. His thick brown locks dust his shoulders. I have the sudden urge to run my fingers through it, to tug on it as he kisses me passionately. What would his beard feel like against my skin again?
He lifts his eyebrows and I realize that I’ve been caught staring at my new husband.
“Did you sleep well?” I manage to stammer out.
He gives me a brief nod then tips his head. For a moment, I think maybe he’s asking me the same question in return.
“Me, too,” I’m quick to answer, even though the words are a lie. I barely slept. Not only was it weird being in an unfamiliar place, but being married to Brennon is slightly unnerving, too. I have no idea what to expect from this hunky mountain man. Is this even a real marriage in his eyes?
He pushes a plate of food into my hands. I accept it and glance up at him, surprised by the concern I see in his eyes.
I’m normally a muffin and black coffee kind of girl for breakfast, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at me. It feels nice to be taken care of. I know that Andrew would never deign to do a task like making me breakfast.
I take a seat at the table and bite into a piece of crunchy bacon. I give him a nod that has his expression softening into a smile. It’s strange to see Brennon smile. When he does, his whole face lights up.
He settles at the table with a plate of his own.
I can’t help but ask him what his plans are for our honeymoon. I stumble over the word honeymoon, uncertain of what it means since we haven’t defined our marriage.
He stops chewing to stare at me.
Instantly, I feel self-conscious and wonder if I shouldn’t have asked that question. Quickly, I amend my question, “I mean, this is fun.”
I don’t want him thinking that I was expecting some lavish vacation. Andrew and I had planned a stay in Cancún that I wasn’t even looking forward to. I’d much rather be cozy in my new husband’s cabin than to be with Andrew on a sunny beach.