Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 34938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Taking my hand, I step to his side as he looks me up and down. “Wow,” he says, a single tear trickling down his cheek as his smile widens. “You look amazing.”
“So do you.” I smile back and the tears are already streaming down my face.
The pastor begins the ceremony, but I can't take my eyes off of Kent. He's perfect. There's no person I would rather spend the rest of my life with than him.
We say our I do's, and the pastor says, “You may now kiss your bride.”
Kent instantly wraps his arm around my waist, dipping me low, and kissing me with more passion than I've ever felt in his lips before.
I wrap my arms around his neck, and kiss him back.
The beach explodes with cheers and applause as everyone stands in celebration.
It's a perfect day. A perfect wedding. A perfect life.
I finally have my happily ever after.
Epilogue
Perri
One Year Later
I groan as my alarm clock blares by my side, and reach out my hand to swat it off. I strike through air several times before I groan and sit up. My eyes adjust to the bright sun and I find my alarm, silencing it before it can scream at me again. No matter how early I go to sleep these days, it’s never enough. This last month of pregnancy is kicking my ass. Just as my mood is about to turn sour, I hear the stairs outside my bedroom door creak, and I know Kent is on his way up with coffee. My hero.
“Rise and shine, Mama,” he calls out right before he appears in the doorway. Oh, he is a better alarm clock than anything. “How’d you sleep?”
He sits on our bed beside me and hands me the steaming mug. I take a greedy gulp before I can answer him. “I slept nine hours and I’m still tired. How is that even possible?” I complain, dropping my head on his shoulder. I take a few deep breaths, feel his steady body beside me, and stare out at the ocean. Slowly, slowly everything starts to feel better..
We moved into this house a few months after I found out I was pregnant. The baby wasn’t a surprise. Kent said he’d never considered being a father until he met me, and once the idea took root in his head, it’s all he could think about. By the way he talks about it now, it seems like he wants a big brood. So we started trying soon after the wedding and after a couple of months, I got two pink lines on a home test. The night I told him was one of the happiest of my life. I put a little bowtie on Blaze that said Big Brother. When he walked (well, more like dragged) himself into the living room when Kent got home, it was time for his surprise. Kent scooped him into his arms to nuzzle him hello. It took him just a second to notice the bow tie, but once he understood, his face transformed. He’s always doing romantic and surprising things for me. That was my turn to do something for him, and I couldn’t have wished for a more perfect moment. Ever since that day he’s been treating me like I’m a queen.
The house, well that was a surprise. I had decorated a few of my father’s properties, as a consultant, not as his employee, when he came to me with a special project. This house. Right on the beach, in a less touristy neighborhood that’s streets are lined with sweet boutiques and a farmer’s market. There’s even a school down the block. I couldn’t really understand why my father thought this would be a good vacation rental, but he usually has good instincts. And ever since my single stint managing properties for him, he keeps his business to himself, and lets me manage my own design business. He gave me instructions to decorate it however I thought was best. Spare no expense, he told me. The house was already beautiful, and in two months I’d furnished it, and it was perfect. The day the final pieces were delivered and placed, Kent and my dad met me at the house. Apparently they’d been up to their old scheming again, but this time I didn’t mind.
“It looks beautiful, Perri. Great job,” my dad said, walking around the living room, looking over the freshly painted cabinetry and carefully chosen throw rugs.
“I don’t know, Bryce,” Kent said. “This picture here, it just doesn’t look right.”
My dad and I joined Kent at the front door. I was really surprised. I’d never heard Kent criticize my taste before. He was pointing to a perfectly pretty picture of hydrangeas.
“I think you’re right, Kent,” my dad said, although he could barely keep a straight face.