Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
“Nothing. I just thought we could eat. But if you’re too busy, it’s fine.” I shrug a shoulder, looking everywhere but at him, not wanting to meet his eyes in case he can see the lie residing in mine.
Ace’s brows furrow, and he sets the dog down inside the playroom to come out to me. “No, it’s okay. I could eat. But one thing really quick . . .”
I force my gaze up. “What’s that?”
“Did Harper send you?” he asks, and now it’s his turn to sound worried.
I shake my head, confused. “No? Why would she send me?”
Ace shrugs, looking sheepish. “Oh, you know, to tell me she came to her senses and doesn’t want to marry me.”
I plop the food down on the countertop, feeling a rush of relief and love for my brother at the same time. “Ace! Stop that! You know she loves you and can’t wait to marry you. Hell, she wanted the shortest engagement possible so she could marry you sooner. Don’t worry, she’ll be there.”
The words seem to reassure him, so at least I can do that right. He comes to the counter, planting his elbows on the surface and grinning in embarrassment. “Okay, okay. Maybe I’m being a little mental. But what about her dress? It didn’t get wine spilled on it? Or the officiant didn’t have a heart attack? Or the venue didn’t forget to pay their electric bill and have their power shut off? I feel like bad luck’s lurking around every corner.”
“No, no, and no. It’s gonna be fine, but you want to know the truth?” I ask, and Ace nods. “Harper would happily walk down the aisle wearing an oversized white undershirt as a gown and a Snuggie as a veil. Actually, she’d look quite cute that way, I bet. Probably come up with some sequins to glue to it or a ribbon belt. Teacher crafty chic,” I tease.
“She would.” He doesn’t smile. Rather, he looks like he’s imagining his bride wearing the crazy outfit I’ve described and looking breathtakingly gorgeous.
He’s so gone for her. It’s adorable.
“And we worked on the centerpieces a few nights ago before Elle got here too. Thank you for that, by the way.”
Ace grins, giving me a nod. “You’re welcome, but I didn’t need to do much. I figured you could use the backup with everything you’ve taken on for us. And don’t tell her I said this, but Elle really helped me out when I was in that dark place. She deserves to see the result of her tough love approach.” He pats his own back affectionately, proud of himself. “Harper said the three of you tore it up at the karaoke place?”
“We did have fun. Harper surprisingly let loose, really belted out some WAP. She knew every word and had some pretty hot dance moves too.” Ace tilts his head, not believing that for a second. I grin, already aware that it was a reach. “And it was good to see Elle. I’ve missed her.”
“Ah-ha, that’s what this is about,” he says with a sense of discovery. “What’s up between the two of you?”
I shrug, feeling Ace sniff closer and closer to my main issue. “Nothing. We’re good. She says she’s fine with me and Daniel.”
“You believe her?” He’s picking and poking, trying to narrow things down.
“I’m taking her at her word, Ace. She’s my best friend.” When Ace’s look doesn’t change, I return his look. “You think I shouldn’t?”
Ace looks at me carefully, and I feel like he’s looking into my soul. “I think there’s something on your mind and Elle is part of it. My guess is that Daniel is too. So, tell me what’s got you chowing down on French fries like they’re the last ones you’ll ever get.”
I realize he’s right. I’ve nearly sucked down the second bag of fries and two more cups of gravy. All before he’s eaten a few chicken strips. I set the fry in my hand down and take a deep breath. “Ace . . . I need to tell you something, and I’ve been tearing myself up about it.”
“Tiffany, whatever it is, I’m your brother. You saved my life, literally. No matter what it is, I’m on Team Tiff.”
“Thank you,” I tell him. But the words don’t come. I pace back and forth across the room, trying to find the courage to spill my guts, and Ace watches quietly, giving me time. My movements have captured the attention of someone else, too. A fluffy German Shepherd that was sleeping in the corner comes to my side, heeling and matching my pace.
“Winston,” Ace tells me, pointing to the dog. “He’s a retired K9 officer, and you’re speaking his language.” Ace moves his fingers through air, indicating my back-and-forth steps.
I bend down, letting Winston sniff my hand and then petting his fluffy head when he seems ready.