Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“Fine, I guess I’m going to ruin the grand reveal. That whole not seeing the bride before the big day isn’t something this group of brothers could ever understand.” Boston was not having it. I’d booked a room at the Inn, bags were backed, and I was ready to head out the door when he caught wind of what I was up to. Needless to say, he pulled out his secret weapon, tossed me over his shoulder and carried me up the stairs, making me see the error of my ways while sending me into multiple orgasms.
“You won’t regret it,” Millie says.
“And then we can all get this show on the road, folks,” Nessa inputs. I walk toward the door, take one last gulp of the champagne before opening the door.
“Amelie, for the love of God, open the door. The least you can do is discuss this dumb paper you’ve signed and now are waiting on mine.” I fling the door open. Boston Wescott in a tux, holy mother of meatballs is he devastatingly handsome. He always is. I prefer the man shirtless, holding our baby girl against his chest while wearing a pair of loose cotton shorts as he dances with her in the kitchen, a slow sway of his hips, and when he grabs my waist to include me, yep, it’s enough for me to start asking about trying for our second baby. But right now, it’s a different look entirely, knowing by the end of the day, we’ll officially be man and wife. It’s sexy in its own right.
“Sign the papers, Boston, but maybe you should read them first besides the header that states prenuptial agreement?”
“Jesus Christ, Amelie, you are fucking beautiful.” The papers he was holding in one hand tumble to the floor.
“And you’re not too bad on the eyes yourself.” I bend down to pick up the papers. “Boston, this protects both of us. It’s not a me against you or you against me scenario. We both have property, money, and you have Four Brothers. Should something ever happen between us, I do not want to come between what you all have successfully built,” I tell him, holding the papers out.
“I still don’t like it, but if it gets you to the damn altar, I’ll sign the damn papers, beautiful. You’ve got more than any money I could ever make. I’ve got you, and you’ve got me.” This time, it’s me who lets the papers flutter to the ground. Makeup be damned. I need his lips on mine and Boston’s arms wrapped around me. He understands me entirely. His tongue flicks at my upper lip. A sigh leaves me, and Boston slides inside, tongue tangling with mine, both of his hands cupping my upper back, bringing me closer. I’m grateful I didn’t pick a ball gown dress and instead found an off-the-shoulder sweetheart neckline, beige with floral embroidery fitted at the top, flaring at the knees with a slit to help with walking.
“Okay, you two lovebirds, Isabelle called and said move it or lose it, literally. The preacher is ready to leave and not marry you,” Nessa states.
“I’ll sign the papers later.” I roll my eyes, knowing the likelihood of that happening is nil. I let it go. Boston’s hand is entwined with mine, and he’s leading me to the altar, where I’m finally going to become his wife.