Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
It would be so satisfying to make love and forget about all the obstacles in their path to matrimonial bliss, but if he took that route, he’d wake up one day and she’d be leaving for New York. His dick would have gotten a workout, fine. But she wouldn’t be any closer to loving him back. Or believing they could go the distance.
At this rate, cheesy eighties songs were writing themselves, but who could blame him when she looked so gorgeous in his passenger seat, her left knee bouncing up and down in a nervous gesture that threatened to upend the pie.
“Hey.” He took his right hand off the steering wheel and brushed his knuckle along the outside of her knee, which turned out to be a big mistake, because Lord God almighty, she was smooth and that kneecap would fit right into his palm. Focus. “Are you nervous because Ingram Meyer is going to be there? Because we’ve got this, Natalie. By the end of the night, he’s going to be so positive that we married for love, he’s going to send us a second wedding gift. Fingers crossed on a chocolate fountain.”
She appeared to be on the verge of rolling her eyes, but cut him a sly look instead. “You know, the one from Williams Sonoma doubles as a fondue pot.”
He smacked the steering wheel. “Are we positive no one bought us one of those?”
“Hallie took our gifts home, and opened and arranged them. Not a single chocolate fountain that doubles as a cheese cauldron, but then again, I wouldn’t put it past Julian’s girlfriend to steal it for herself. She once robbed a cheese shop in broad daylight.” She nodded solemnly at his incredulous eyebrow raise. “How are you so confident we’ll convince Meyer?”
Because if that man can’t see I’d die for you, he’s blind.
“I’m great at dinner parties. Although in Kansas, we call them barbecues.”
Her laughter was kind of dazed. “Dinner with my mother in her formal dining room is far from kicking back with a cold one in someone’s backyard.”
“That bad, huh?” His stomach begged him not to ask the next question, but hell, he did it anyway. “Did you ever bring your ex-fiancé home for dinner?”
“Morrison? No.”
“Fuck yeah.” His fist pump was so involuntary, he almost punched a hole in the roof of the truck. Pull back, tiger. “I mean, I’m glad you didn’t have to go through the whole sticky process of detaching your family from the dude, as well. You know how that goes. You don’t just break up with someone, you break up with their family and friends. Such a mess.”
Natalie stared.
Any second now, she was going to call him on that fist pump and the bullshit that followed. Instead, she asked, “Do you . . . know how that goes? Have you had serious girlfriends?”
Somehow, August got the sense that this was a dangerous topic. “My father used to say that women ask questions they don’t really want answered, and it’s our job to figure out which ones are safe and which ones aren’t. And we will always be wrong.”
Natalie scoffed at that, readjusting the pie on her lap. “What are you implying? That I don’t really want to know about your past girlfriends?”
“I can relate, princess. I want to hear about this Morrison prick about as much as I want a staple gun pointed at my nuts.”
“You asked.”
“I live with a woman now. Maybe she’s rubbing off on me.”
“Whatever. Just answer the question.” She chuckled.
Oh no. That chuckle was deceiving.
Trust your gut, son.
Or was it his dick? Because his dick said to tell Natalie anything she wanted to know. Give her anything she wants without delay.
“Yeah, I had a serious girlfriend,” he said slowly. Cautiously. “One. In high school. She lived next door. Matter of fact, I think she’s still in the house beside my mom and dad.”
“What was she like?”
O-kay. Natalie was still smiling. This seemed fine. “Carol? She’s a sweet, down-home Kansas girl. Her pickles won a blue ribbon at the state fair.”
“Oh.” The smile looked a tad forced now. “Wow. She sounds like my total opposite.”
Hold up. Things were getting dicey.
“Why did you break up?”
“Natalie, are you sure that pie isn’t too hot on your lap? I can—”
“I mean, if she’s so sweet, what happened?”
“Did I say sweet?” That was just what his mother always called Carol. A sweet, down-home Kansas girl. It must have stuck. “Well. She wanted to settle down and get started on a family right away, and I wasn’t ready for that. I wanted to serve.” He recited these truths very slowly. “So she gave me back my class ring and now she’s married to the church pastor. Last time my mother updated me, they have four kids.”
“Oh.” Natalie slumped back in her seat. “And you’re happy for her?”