Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 135955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
My pregnant daughter.
Shit, I’d kill the asshole.
“Ahh, I think the musclehead sees where I’m coming from.” Gill’s astute sense reads me well.
“Loud and clear.”
“One more thing,” he goes on. “Margo and I want to help with the house.”
My head snaps up. “Not necessary.”
“You got the money to make my girl happy?”
“I’ve been smart with my finances.”
He eyes me, weighing my response. “Margo wants to furnish the boys’ rooms.”
At this, I chuckle, still on point with having boys. “Jewls and her mom can have at it.”
“Cindy will be in,” Dad interjects. “Although she’s praying there is at least one girl in the mix.”
“Lord help us. Julianna Keller as a mom—my precious granddaughter will swing blows at nine months.”
Dad outwardly laughs, and I smirk against the rim of my glass. “Outside of knowing I love your daughter with every fiber of my being, any other life-shaking conversations we need to have, Gill?”
His lip curls on one side. “Yeah, Kentucky football starts soon. I expect you and your family for at least one game.”
“You plan on getting arrested?”
His grin widens. “Wouldn’t be any fun without a little excitement.”
I toss my phone on the nightstand and settle back, hauling Jewls to my side.
“How are they?” Jewls nuzzles into my neck, her fingers tracing over my ink.
“Torn between relief and grief.”
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Would you admit if you weren’t?”
I lock eyes with her. The concern and love shining back pierce deep inside.
“You heard my side of the conversation. We didn’t rehash Koby’s death.”
“Yes, but talking to his parents had to stir some emotions. For them and for you. Their son and your best friend’s killer is dead.”
“One less scumbag living off Uncle Sam and flooding our justice system.”
“That’s one way to look at it.”
“You have room on our invite list for the Wallaces?”
She nods eagerly. “Absolutely.”
“Your mom talk to you about the nursery?”
Her smile falters, the shine in her eyes dimming. “Um, yes, she did.”
“What happened?”
“Mom and Cindy have different visions for the nursery. It doesn’t help that we’re not finding out the genders.”
“They still hung up on that?”
“One thing they agree on. They can’t understand how we can handle not knowing.”
“You want the surprise. They’ll get over it.”
“I’m wavering.”
I cup her chin, skimming my thumb across her bottom lip. “I’ll talk to them. Tell them to back off. If you change your mind, I’ll support the decision. But they don’t get to pressure you. And if their visions for the nursery don’t match yours, I’ll handle that, too.”
“My personal superhero.”
“Wanting you to be happy doesn’t equate to superhero.”
“It does to me.”
“Baby, you need to roll back your sweet if you won’t let me fuck you.”
“We are definitely driving to the back of the property tomorrow.”
Her wispy tone hits straight to my dick. I need to shut this down. “Outside of the difference of opinions on baby furniture, did you get a lot done?”
“Our wedding is practically planned. It’s amazing what our moms can accomplish when they agree. Flowers, food, decorations—”
I press my thumb to her lips. “The only thing I care about right now is the date.”
“August twenty-ninth, six p.m.”
I mentally calculate the weeks. “August twenty-ninth.”
“Labor Day weekend so all our friends and family can make it.”
I read through her statement easily. She wants me to be surrounded by my Marine Corps family. My chest seizes and a slow burn flows through my veins, taking root all the way to my bones.
“Go to sleep, baby. We’re taking that ride to the edge of the property early in the morning.”
She grins approvingly, pushing up to brush her lips across mine. “Love you, Major.”
I twist, cut off the light, and settle, sifting my fingers through her hair. After a few minutes, her breathing levels out, her breath fanning across my chest. I stare at the ceiling, that burn diminishing as years of memories replay in my mind.
Koby’s killer is dead, closing a chapter of my life that always plagued me. His death opened my eyes and set me on the path to becoming the man I am. A path that led me here—lying in my fiancée’s bed, in her childhood home, the day she planned our wedding.
Dad’s words from earlier repeat. He was right. JaKoby Wallace would have loved Julianna Keller.
Miss you, brother. I think to myself. Wish you were here to see this.
As if she senses my introspection, her thigh loops with mine, her body plastering closer.
That’s all it takes.
After all these years, peace finally comes.