Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
It was followed up with cupcakes at the only bakery in town, and then me dropping him off at home where he was supposed to talk to his mother about his new “job.” I was also made to promise that I would be at his soccer game tomorrow at one, which there was no way in hell I wouldn’t be sitting on those sidelines. Even if I had to go by myself.
When I got home, it was to Aodhan cooking dinner at the stove, with the phone to his ear.
“No,” I heard him say as I walked in. “Really? That’s hard to believe.”
I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his midsection, placing my face against the gap between his large, muscular shoulder blades.
He spoke some more to whomever he was on the phone with, but I listened to the vibration of his chest, and not his words.
By the time he was hanging up and turning in my arms, I was completely lost, hypnotized by the timbre of his voice.
“You okay?” he asked, running his fingers lightly along my neck.
“I’m fine,” I promised. “I haven’t had any lingering side effects all day. Who was that on the phone?”
He squeezed me lightly before letting me go to go back to whatever he was doing at the stove.
I moved to his side and leaned against the countertop, looking down into the many pots on the stove.
Beef tips and rice.
One of my favorites.
“That was Sunny, giving me an update,” he answered. “I hate to tell you this, but the call from your stepmother was true. Your dad had a heart attack while she was away at work. He died.”
I grimaced.
Was I sad? Not really.
You couldn’t be sad about someone dying that really wasn’t a part of your life.
The sadness was, in actuality, more about what I didn’t have, than what I did.
“That sucks,” I admitted. “Was my mother involved in any way?”
“No.” He paused. “At least not that she confessed. And Sunny is fairly sure that she would’ve confessed. She told us everything when it came to you.”
“Interesting,” I said. “What does that mean now? What will happen to her?”
“Sunny got with the police chief in your mom’s hometown, who got with your grandparents. They have medical power of attorney, and have once again checked her into a mental facility where she’ll be for at least another six months as they evaluate her.”
“Hmm,” I said. “Well, that’s interesting.”
Which was all it was.
Did it suck, her strangling me? Even if she did a shitty job at it? Yes.
Did I give a second thought to anything when it came to her? Nope.
“Will you marry me?” I asked him.
He blinked, turned, and stared down at me. “What?”
“Marry me,” I repeated. “Will you?”
His eyes twinkled as he said, “You know, I had all this planned out.”
I batted my eyelashes at him. “You did?”
“I did,” he paused. “But it’s better this way, I guess. I was freaking out because I was worried I might overly excite you, then you’d pass out, and then you’d be mad at me because that would be how you remember me asking you to marry me forever. So…yes. I’ll marry you.”
The pure sheepishness on his face was priceless.
“Before next month?” I asked. “That’s when we said we’d get married if we weren’t married by our birthdays.”
He reached down, picked me up by my armpits, and placed me on the counter. “I’ll marry you tomorrow.”
The way he got so into my face to say it sent excitement zinging through me.
I smiled slyly at him. “Tomorrow wasn’t on the table.”
“Tomorrow will be on the table…” He hesitated. “But I kind of like the idea of getting married on our birthdays. Seems fitting. Some of the most important days of our lives happened on that day.”
I leaned forward and placed my forehead against the middle of his right pec, closing my eyes and sighing as the most euphoric feeling rolled through me…contentment.
I was content.
My heart was at peace.
My whole entire being felt like it was finally exactly where it was supposed to be…there. With him. In his arms. Against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” he rumbled. “I have to eat, then I have to go get Bowie from practice.”
Speaking of Bowie…
“Did y’all agree to let him keep working?” I asked.
He’d gotten a job online. It was completely remote, twenty hours a week, and none other than my favorite stalker friend had helped him come up with the forgery that lied to his employer and told them he was over eighteen.
“We’re going to let him,” Aodhan said. “Yeti and I talked on the phone today. We think that it’s best if we allow it to happen. But if it starts interrupting his schoolwork, or affecting his soccer, then we’ll say something about it. We’re both in agreement, though. This is something he feels like he needs to do, mostly because he does need to do it. He told Folsom when he got this job, and she helped him, that he was going to help pay Wake back for helping cover the cost of renovation. I tend to think that it’s a good idea for him.”