Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
I straightened a little, curious. “What?”
She gestured at Blake and my parents. “We were thinking it would be nice if both our families got together for Christmas dinner.”
Tensing slightly, I exchanged a surprised look with Dax.
“Your parents said we could have it at their place, since their dining table is allegedly huge,” Kensey went on. “Vienna and I would share in the cooking and, between us both, could definitely make it work. But it will break our hearts—like, wide open—if you and Dax don’t agree to attend. We want everyone at the table or it won’t be the same.”
Dax sighed at her. “Just so you know, Addison doesn’t respond to emotional blackmail. Neither do I, as you’re already aware.”
Kensey grinned, unrepentant. “But you’ll come, right?”
He refocused on me. “Do you want to?”
“It depends on a few things,” I replied, sliding a meaningful look at my father.
Dane didn’t miss it. “I’ll behave. So will Ollie. I’m not saying I’ll ever like Dax—”
“You already do like him,” I said, impatient.
“—but I’ll be nice,” Dane promised, and I could see he meant it.
Pursing his lips, Dax shrugged at me. “I’m game if you are.”
Then it looked like both our families would be eating Christmas dinner together.
Needless to say, our parents were thrilled that we’d agreed.
I was just as psyched at the thought of us all being together like that. Even better, I had the guarantee that my dad would stop behaving like an idiot toward Dax. And since Ollie had earlier been the height of friendliness toward him, I wouldn’t have to worry about my brother being a pain either.
Later on, when Dax and I were once again alone, I closed the book I’d finished reading and said, “I know this is wrong—like really, really, really wrong—but I wish I could strap Nina Bowen to a kind of writing treadmill so she’d churn out one book after another without pause. Inhumane and selfish, yes, but I’m lost whenever I finish one of her novels.”
His lips twitched. “If you had a constant flow of them, you’d get bored of her style.”
“No. No, I really wouldn’t. That’s an actual impossibility. It’s—” I hissed as I accidentally aggravated the pain in my neck by moving too sharply. “God, I loathe whiplash. I loathe knowing it’ll linger for at least another few days. There are a number of events I’m organizing that I was also intent on attending, and now I won’t be able to.”
“Your team can handle it,” he said, scrolling through his phone.
I folded my arms with a petulant huff. “I’d better be back to normal by the time Christmas day rolls around.” There was only a week left to go.
Without moving his gaze from his phone, he gave my thigh a gentle squeeze. “You should be mostly fine by then.”
“I must say your bedside manner has improved from the last time I was unwell. You’ve actually been very nice to me today. Which is remarkable, considering I make a terrible patient.”
He shrugged. “You don’t do well with being made to sit still. I’m no better, so I get it.”
It was good that he “got” it, because I was just as awful a patient as the days went by. And God, they seemed to pass at an agonizingly slow pace. The celibacy made me even grumpier. But he stayed home with me, batting off my moodiness like a champ.
It wasn’t until day four that I had my full range of movement back. Dax and I celebrated that with a morning quickie that I’d so needed. A short time later, while we were waiting for our breakfast to arrive, he asked me to follow him outside; said he wanted to show me something.
Curious, I happily followed him out of the front door.
And came to a halt.
Sidling up to him, I cast him a sideways glance. “What’s this?”
“What does it look like?”
I returned my gaze to the large object in the driveway. “It looks like a car.”
“So observant,” he said dryly.
I snickered. “It’s parked in my usual space.”
“Because it’s yours. I had someone drive it here earlier.” He raised a hand. “I know you said you were fine with simply having your other car fixed, since there wasn’t a lot of damage. But you’ve been having nightmares since the crash. I’d rather you were driving something that doesn’t feature in those nightmares.”
I swallowed hard. “I appreciate that. I do. But this car is a brand newie.” Shiny and stylish and expensive. “It had to have cost—”
“Don’t make a deal out of the cost. We’re married. What’s mine is yours. And if you need something, I’m going to make sure you have it—end of conversation.”
He was making my chest feel all tight and warm again. “Then than—”
“Don’t,” he said, cutting me off as he slipped a hand into his pocket. A hand that then dangled a set of keys in front of me. “You’ll need these.”