Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“Not Alden,” Ransom protests, and I wonder where he’s going with this and why he’s suddenly defending me. “He’s way too straight-laced for that. He lives, eats, and breathes hacking.” He goes off half-cocked, putting his hands on his hips and strutting around the room, imitating my deep voice even though his is already plenty deep enough. “Not dragging anyone into our life. That would be a straight-up liability, and it’s not fair to them, either. Love is for sissies. What’s a crush? I’m immune to any and all such nonsense.”
“Oooooh! Has someone finally broken through those thick arse walls? Broached the barrier? The old seal sprung a leak? Burrowed into thy formerly impenetrable brain?” Lennox goads.
Orion stands back, puzzled. “Wait, is the wedding real? I thought it was fake.”
“The wedding is real. The marriage is fake,” Atlas informs him.
“Then why’d he shave?”
I let loose a warning noise as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. “It’s official. I thoroughly and truly hate you all.”
“If by hate you mean looooooveeeee.”
“No, by hate, I mean hate, and by thoroughly, I mean entirely. Absolutely. Well and truly.”
“Well, that’s not nice,” Lennox mutters, tsking and shaking his head sorrowfully. He’d make a good actor, let me tell you.
“You’ve mortally wounded Lennox,” Atlas says.
Orion joins in with the head shaking. “I’m telling Granny you used the H word.”
“Telling me what? What H word? Health? Happiness? Hellfire? Habiliment, haemathermal, halitosis? Hemorrhoids?” What a combination. Granny strolls into the room, looking utterly chipper in a twenties-style black beaded dress with fringes hanging down. A beaded headband with a huge black flower rests over her forehead, and her white hair has been curled into ringlets. She looks stunning. She’s also giving all my brothers the granny look, which tells them that she knows they’ve been using the time unwisely, obviously, because I’m not yet dressed and gleaming in the sparkling tux they brought with them.
Said tux is now set over the foot of the bed where Lennox draped it. My brothers give Granny sheepish looks. Yeah, they know they were up to some first-thing-in-the-morning fuckery which is far too early for any decent sort of fuckery to be taking place.
“Jalapenos. It was jalapenos,” Orion insists.
“That starts with a J, you ignoramus opotamus. That’s an ignoramus and a hippopotamus combined, FYI,” Atlas corrects with all the brotherly love in his sweet little heart.
“Yeah. Got that.”
“Boys.” Granny claps her hands. “I expected him to be dressed and ready. The JP is going to be here in an hour.”
“An hour?” I glance at the window where the blinds are closed up. “Is it even dawn yet?”
Granny walks over and snaps the shades apart with two fingers, letting me know that, yes, it’s sunny after all. “Better get that tux on.” She gives me a once-over. Her lips part ever so slightly, and her eyes get round, but all she does is shake her head when she sees my stark naked chest. “We have a bride to get ready.”
“What?” Panic sets in, doing its best to derail my efforts to get it together. “Granny! This is a sham wedding. What do you mean by ‘a bride to get ready?’”
“We brought you a tux, and we brought her a dress. The thing’s going to look strange enough with all these burly dudes in attendance and none of her friends, parents, or sisters. I’ll play the part of her doting grandmother, so at least she’ll have one person on her side. Getting married in jeans and a T-shirt isn’t an option.”
“How long have you been planning this? Wait, don’t answer. I already know. I just didn’t realize that it involved getting dressed up and a side helping of a bunch of sappy nonsense.”
Granny shrugs. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to see this plan through, and that includes greasing a bunch of palms to get the wedding rolling, getting a JP here, stat, even though it was last minute, and making your poor bride grateful that she’s doing us one hell of a solid. A nice dress and a pretty hairstyle will make any woman feel that much better. If that’s alright with you lot.”
My brothers shuffle their feet, and I finally bend my head in something that I guess means acquiescence. Actually, I’ll tell you what it means. It means I’m going to shut the shit up and let Granny work her magic. I tell myself that this is me submitting to the plan, not in any way, shape, or form, because I want to see how much more gorgeous Azalea would look in a wedding dress. Goddess level. She’s already that. I can’t imagine how much further Granny will take it. I’ll probably be so gobsmacked when I see her that I won’t be able to utter a word, and the plan will go to straight shit, all because of Granny’s need to play dress up and make this feel authentic for some JP who has probably married half a bazillion couples who wore casual clothes.