Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
“Oops! Sorry, Wrenley,” Mom apologized with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Sometimes, when I get excited, I’ll go on and on until someone stops me.”
Wrenley giggled. “I don’t mind. I love your enthusiasm.”
Mom tossed a smug glance at me, and I rolled my eyes.
“Well, good. Because I’m sure we’ll be spending a lot of time together.”
Wrenley glanced up at me, a question in her eyes, and I smiled encouragingly. It seemed like she and my mom would get along really well, so I wanted them to get to know each other. After all, my mom would be her mother-in-law and our children’s Nana.
“You two will make such beautiful babies,” my mom sighed dreamily.
Wrenley suddenly choked and fell into a fit of coughing. I patted her on the back, trying not to laugh at her reaction to my mother’s bluntness.
“Francie,” my dad grunted with a slight reprimand in his tone.
“What?” She looked up at my dad, blinking innocently. “It’s true.”
“Um”—cough—“Thank”—cough—“You?” Wrenley sputtered when she could get a little oxygen.
My mom winked at her, then scurried to her other side and looped their arms together. “And I have to tell you, I’m so glad our son picked someone who fits him perfectly. A smaller girl would be crushed by his build and probably his large personality, too. He needs a woman who can stand up to him and has a body that can handle big babies. Because, with parents like us, he certainly wasn’t going to be a dainty boy. But, damn, eleven pounds was more than even I was prepared for.”
6
Wrenley
I wasn’t sure what to be shocked by more…Jordan’s mom casually talking about the babies she was picturing us having or the fact that he weighed eleven pounds when he was born. The only thing I was certain about was that she bought Jordan and me as a couple. And that if our families ever met, our two moms would have us married off and popping out grandbabies in a flash. Too bad that would never actually happen.
“Uh, yeah. I can’t imagine any woman would be ready to give birth to a newborn that size.”
“And on that note”—Jordan tugged me away from his mom—“I’m going to escort my date over to the bar so we can get a drink before we take our seats for dinner.”
“Oh, good idea,” Francie cried. “I could use a glass of champagne.”
Jordan’s dad wrapped his arm around his wife’s back and pulled her against his side. “Let the kids go have their fun. We can get you a drink after we’ve said the rest of our hellos, my love.”
“Oh, pooh. You’re ruining my fun,” she complained as we walked away.
“I can see why you decided you needed a fake date,” I murmured when we were out of earshot.
“My mom can be a bit much at times, but she means well.” His lips curved into a smile as he glanced over his shoulder toward his parents. “And she wasn’t kidding about being excited to see us together.”
“She definitely seemed happy.”
Jordan chuckled and shook his head. “I’d say that’s the understatement of the century.”
“Mm-hmm,” I agreed as we approached the bar.
“What would you like?” he asked.
Although I could probably get away with requesting a glass of champagne like his mom wanted since the bartender wasn’t carding anyone, I wasn’t a big fan of alcohol. “How about a cranberry juice with a dash of Sprite to make it fancy?”
“Sounds delicious.” He pressed his palm against my lower back before ordering our drinks, surprising me when he opted to get the same thing as me.
When we moved to the nearest empty corner of the large ballroom, I smiled up at him. “I wouldn’t have minded if you ordered scotch or a beer or something.”
“I’m not much of a drinker.” He shrugged. “I avoid alcohol in season, and I guess I got into the habit of doing the same even when I’m not playing.”
His dedication to the game was impressive. “No wonder you’re one of the best offensive linemen in the league.”
He leaned his shoulder against the wall and flashed me a cocky grin, looking incredibly hot in his tuxedo. “Only one of them? And here I thought I was your favorite player, period. Offense, defense, or special teams.”
“I can see why you’d think that, superstar.” I returned his smile over the rim of my glass before taking a sip.
He quirked a brow. “You’re going to play it like that, huh?”
I nodded. “Yup.”
“Maybe if I show you my moves later this evening, you’ll admit how good I am.”
I had to be imagining the suggestive undertone, but that didn’t stop my heart from racing as I wondered if he was talking about more than just dancing. The announcement for dinner saved me from embarrassing myself by asking if he was talking about his moves in the bedroom.