Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
He’s wrong, but if I don’t get a second to think, I’ll never work out how he’s caused a more significant impact on my life in a week than Peter did in three years, so I must march him out the door.
“Are you sure? You can come with me. Ma would love another opinion on what white napkin she should pick.”
I push him out the door before another stupid thought can form in his head. “The only time I’ll ever pick linen again is when I’m too lazy to iron.”
Those words did not leave my mouth. Surely. I’ve dreamed about a big Spanish wedding since I was a little girl. Now I’m acting as if marriage is the last thing on my mind.
My mother always said contentment in my personal life would bring me more happiness than anything else.
I didn’t believe her until now.
Zane doesn’t balk about either commitment or noncommitment rants. “All right. We’ll cool things off for a bit. How long do you need for your coochie to recover?”
I smile at his uncomfortable stumble of ‘coochie’ before suggesting, “Overnight?”
He looks upset. My libido is downright pissed.
But I try to calm the waters by accepting one of the multiple insinuations he tossed out the past few days. “You can pick me up around two. That’ll give us plenty of time to get to the church before your mother.”
Zane couldn’t sound more shocked. “You want to come to my mother’s wedding?”
Smiling, I nod. “Uh-huh.”
His bewilderment increases. “The elves have most likely vomited on everything. There’s probably spew stretched from the church to the reception hall.”
Mistaking his warning as rejection, I say, “If you don’t want me to come, I don’t have to come. I just thought you might like the support.”
“I want you to come. I need all the help I can get.” He steps closer to me before admitting the actual cause of his fret. “I just don’t want you to believe I inherited an icy heart from my mother.”
His expression exposes that divorce affects children even when they’re adults. “Your parents—”
“Are not like yours, Kelsey. Yours have their shit together. Mine…” He scrubs at the back of his neck while softly sighing. “They’re a fucking disaster.”
“Then I guess I shouldn’t tell you that the first time my mother walked down the aisle, she wasn’t standing across from my father.” With Zane shocked into silence, I can continue my story without interruption. “They were initially not meant to be, but fate…” A chuckle breaks up my reply. “And if you believe my father… Santa… was responsible for their union.”
“Santa?” Zane asks, his tone high.
Even confident he will never look at me in the same way again, I nod. “He was even their witness.” When it dawns on me that I sound like one of those weirdo Christmas freaks like Noelle, I shove Zane out of my apartment before muttering, “So if I haven’t scared you off, and you still want me to be your plus-one, I’ll see you tomorrow at two.”
I miss his presence the instant I close the door in his face, but I keep my hopelessness hidden by not responding to his offer until he gallops down the stairs of my building. “You know where to find me if you need me before then.”
Only once the steel door at the front of my building slams shut do I dance like no one is watching. I bump and grind across the polished floorboards in the living room, the sauciness of my moves tripling when Zane’s voice breaks over the ‘ho, ho, ho” booming through my open living room window.
“And if you don’t know the way, just keep an ear out for Santa. I’m sure he’ll point you in the right direction.”
CHAPTER 13
Kelsey
I try to utilize the first solid alone time I’ve had in three years well. I respond to a handful of messages I received that veered away from their disappointment to my heartache, cancel the gift register before more family members get stung purchasing Noelle’s expensive additions, and then I draft the speech I plan to give my parents one week from today. It’s the day they are due to fly to Oregon and includes details about their new itinerary.
I’ve achieved a lot, but I’d be a liar if I said I’m not bored out of my mind and wishing I hadn’t told Zane he broke my coochie.
If he didn’t need to be with his family, I would have been halfway to his hotel by now.
Luckily, my morals still linger even when I want to be a harlot.
Confident I’ll die of boredom if I live this life every day, I open the finance section of a local online newspaper. I sent some feelers to possible clients earlier this week, but I’ve yet to hear anything back. It is understandable when you remember Christmas is only eight days away.