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)
Grady chuckled and looked slightly guilty. “That’s my fault. I think I made a smart-ass remark to one of the old farts. He probably heard weird gossip.”
That made more sense than anything else I’d come up with.
“Do you think you’re living in the trailer?” I hadn’t been worried about that but I was starting to think I should’ve been.
Groaning, Grady shook his head and leaned over to give me another kiss. “No, baby boy. I sleep with you and we’re slowly figuring out where my stuff goes. But even if I was, that would be perfectly reasonable. Yes, we’re fated mates that should belong in a romance novel we’re so incredible, but we’re also people who need time to get used to things.”
Nodding slowly, I unbuckled and leaned across the cab to snuggle into his chest as best I could. “Yes, magical fated mates but we still have brains and emotions and we need to work out practical things.”
Like the fact that I seemed to need a lot more sleep than he did.
And he was really focused on making sure I got enough to eat.
And he had a lot of art stuff.
Yep, practical things.
“So no worries about our living situation or our wedding colors?” His chest jerked as I groaned. “I like purple and dislike flash mobs.”
He was just as insane as the rest of them, but somehow, he didn’t seem to realize it.
“I’ll remember the flash mob for the wedding notes, but I don’t think Lorne or Stefan would be talked into anything like that.” Now, something magical and ridiculous? They could definitely be talked into something like that. “I can’t promise anything else, though.”
Daddy gave me a hug. “Don’t worry. I’ll just call their Daddies and tattle on them.”
“Thank you.” I couldn’t do it without feeling a bit guilty, but he could. “What am I telling Lorne about the wedding date?”
I seemed to have lost all control over the situation.
“Tell him that he has to wait until I’ve officially asked you and you have a romantic story to tell everyone. Then he can do it after that. No less than thirty days out and no more than six months. We’re not looking for something huge or insane.”
“No, nothing huge or insane.” That sounded miserable. “But I can be in charge of the flowers, right?”
“Yes.” Kissing my head, Daddy didn’t seem to realize the whole conversation was ridiculous. “And I will make sure Lorne doesn’t try to put you in a dress or a sequined tux like you’re Elvis or something.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “He’s got both of those on the Pinterest board.”
“Absolutely not.” Daddy made a low rumbling sound that was all pissed-off dragon. “We will have some limits on this.”
Just some?
I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or not, but it was probably a reasonable limit based on who we were talking about.
“Do I get to ask when you’re going to propose? Were you going to do it when we do the hike to the gate next week?” I wasn’t surprised when a snort was all I got. “I didn’t think you’d answer that.”
My life was so weird sometimes.
“My smart cutie.” Grady went very Daddy, kissing my head and rubbing my back. “But just think of it. You’re going to have so many new things to worry about, you won’t have time for the old ones.”
I managed to let out a deep sigh instead of telling him he was a butthead, so I thought I was a pretty good sub as I fought to find a better response. “Thank you, Daddy. You’re right.”
He nearly giggled. “That would’ve been much more believable if you hadn’t mentally just huffed and called me a butthead.”
“No.” Sitting up, I shook my head. “I’m your good boy.”
Wait.
What. The. Fuck.
My eyes were probably the size of a cartoon character’s based on how he snickered, but I managed to close my mouth, so I thought I was doing pretty good. “No.”
“Yes.” He was nearly giggly his smile was so big and he leaned over and gave me a soft kiss. “I’m not a butthead. I’m your Daddy.”
“Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”
“You’re not helping the situation, naughty boy.”
“Shit.”
“How often do you curse in your head?” Daddy’s eyes narrowed and he studied my face. “And should I ask how often you call me names?”
“No.”
“Shit.”
Damn it, I did it again.
Blank mind.
Blank mind.
Blank mind.
Closing my eyes, I found our bond and saw that instead of a thin string there was now something that was thicker and looked a bit like a line he’d draw in one of his sketchbooks. I marveled at it for a moment before taking it from a strong black color down to a faint gray.
“Butthead?”
It worked.
Daddy was still trying to look stern when I opened my eyes again, but his were sparkling with barely suppressed laughter. “Your mate bond looks like a vine. It’s really cool.”