Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Um, I was bouncing between using the privacy shield and telling his Daddy on him?” Both of those options might’ve been cheating, but it was hard to tell. “Do you have a preference?”
Daddy looked entirely too innocent and took the question way too seriously, so I knew to be worried when he finally nodded. “Tell him that you haven’t decided to put your dick in my ass yet and you’ll let him know when you make that call.”
Groaning, I slouched against the seat and ignored his snickers. “No. I’m not going to break his brain and he knows I’m more comfortable bottoming.”
It was just better and I wasn’t sure why everyone else didn’t agree with that.
Grady was still snickering as he leaned over the cab and kissed my head. “How about you remind him that we haven’t even been mates for a week? And maybe you tease him that I wanted our first time to be special.”
Was that a tease or the truth?
Deciding it was probably both, I frowned at him. “Then he’ll just help me design the most romantic evening he can think of and you’ll start getting helpful hints from half the town.”
Now Daddy was the one groaning as he looked up at the ceiling like he was begging the ancestors for help. “I forgot about that part.”
I hadn’t.
“I’m changing my vote. I will pick anything that doesn’t have those old men at the diner giving me advice on topping.” As his head came back down and he leaned against the door, he gave me a stern look that sent shivers through me. “I can come up with some creative gossip-related threats if we need them.”
Daddy was devious, so that didn’t surprise me.
“I think I’m just going to remind him that I’m human and don’t always work on dragon timelines.” I shrugged as Daddy chuckled. “I’m not sure he’d believe me that not even all dragons move as fast as he thinks is reasonable.”
Besides, I didn’t think he’d moved as fast as he was pushing me to.
“Nope.” Daddy’s smile looked wicked as he leaned over again and kissed my cheek. “Now, tell me again what your good friend Lorne was worried about.”
Ugh.
“Um, weddings and diamond rings and sparkly things?” It was getting ridiculous. “He wants to know what you think of a purple and white color scheme? Sparkly white like snow, not plain white. Somehow there’s a big difference between the two.”
Huge.
“Oh, and there are evidently a thousand shades of white that my lack of strong opinion about is driving him insane.” I wasn’t sure there was any logic in that at all, but my vague answers were making him nuts. “He keeps sending me pictures of different types of white? And not like different flowers. Different paint square kind of shapes that are all white.”
What. The. Fuck.
“And for the love of the ancestors, don’t call any of the colors silver even if they look silver. They aren’t.”
Grady was doing his best not to laugh but failing spectacularly. “I like the color scheme but I think I will handle picking the shade of white. How about you be in charge of finding us the perfect flowers in shades of purple and a bright, clear white?”
“Deal.” I’d agree to anything that saved me from the white versus white debate.
Wait.
“We’re not getting married just to make him stop texting me.” We might have to do it if he got the town involved, but he hadn’t thought about that yet because he didn’t see why I wasn’t agreeing with him right off the bat.
He wouldn’t get devious until he stopped being confused.
Grady rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Of course not. We’ll do it for the tax benefits and because then I can put a ring on you and the men at the diner will stop asking me if I’ve put a ring on it.”
For fuck’s sake.
“They’re singing it, aren’t they?” It should’ve been a stupid question, but he nodded. “Sorry, Daddy.”
“I tried to be social and go out to lunch yesterday. I promised I’d try.” Grady’s expression was a mix of panic and frustration…he wasn’t sure how to handle the crazy he’d found himself living in. “I was polite just like I promised, but Mr. Kennedy is trying to get them to learn how to do a flash mob. I’m not sure what year he thinks this is but he’s convinced it’s all the rage.”
Huh?
“He wants to do a flash mob to a Beyonce song so that you’ll ask me to marry you?” When he nodded, I realized I wasn’t sure what century that old man was living in. “He realizes you can’t be guilted into that and we aren’t living in sin, right?”
Oh.
“And, um, Boyd might’ve chimed in to ask why you’re still living in the trailer? I think he was just having fun getting everyone else wound up, but he’s not helping.” I might have to just kill him and apologize to Stefan later. “And I have no idea how he decided to pick that idea because I don’t think you’re living in the trailer.”