Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
I’ve been married to Clay for six months and it’s been the best six months of my whole life. I often laugh when I think back to the first day I showed up here. Never in a million years would I have believed this is how my life was going to play out.
That Clay would end up saving my parents’ farm even though I don’t think he really wanted to. My mom and dad have both good and bad parts to them, but he’d done it, so my conscience was clear. I didn't want anything hanging over my sister’s head for some of the decisions we made, and since then we’ve both been free and clear of any guilt to live whatever lives we want for ourselves.
My eyes start to fill with tears thinking about how Clay made all this possible. I didn't know there were men out there like him, and I blink quickly, trying to get the tears to stop. That’s all I need is for Clay to show up with me crying. He’ll follow me around all day if he thinks something is wrong.
I grab the box of cookies I made off the counter and run over toward the window when I hear a vehicle coming down the long driveway. When I see the big brown truck, I let out a small scream of excitement and run towards the front door. I pull it open as Mitch comes up the stairs to the porch with a giant box in his hand.
“What’s that? That’s not what I need,” I practically scream, and he gives me a puzzled look. “Mitch, this is serious!”
“You’re going to have to be more specific, Mrs. Walker,” Mitch laughs, setting the box down.
“I should have a box, but not this big.”
He looks down at his clipboard. “You’re right, let me grab it out of the truck.” He heads back toward his truck, and I follow after him.
“We’ve got to move it. The husband will be back any minute and I don’t want him knowing about this,” I say as I beat Mitch to his own truck. He looks at me like I’m losing my mind, and I might be. I’m pretty sure I already know the answer to the question I’m looking for, but I want to be sure.
For six months I’ve been trying to get knocked up. Each time my period shows up, I get more and more disappointed. I know these things take time, and I get that. Hell, seven months ago I would have said I never wanted kids, but that was when I thought I had no control over my life. Then I met Clay and fell madly in love. All my fears washed away, and he let me see what I wanted more than anything—a family. One so different from the one Kat and I grew up in.
I follow Mitch into his truck as he hands me the box I’ve been waiting for, and I give him the tin can of cookies I made for him. One of the things I’ll also love about living in small towns is that everyone knows everyone.
“I made the double chip your daughter likes,” I tell him. “Thank you!” I shake my box with excitement, giving him a big smile as a goodbye.
“What the hell is going on?” I spin around to see Clay standing at the door of the truck, glaring at us. He’s got some dirt on his jeans and his shirt has a small rip in it. I always find it extra hot when he shows up sweaty from working all day. He really is a hands-on man.
Mitch mutters a curse. Everyone in town knows how Clay can be. I step in front of him just to be safe and make sure Clay isn't going to come at him like a bull. I hadn't thought about what this might look like until this moment. I was so excited, I just followed Mitch right into his truck.
“This isn't what it looks like,” I rush to say and give my husband the sweetest smile I can muster.
“It looks like my wife is going to get a red ass this afternoon.” A ripple of pleasure spikes through me.
“Clay!” I hiss. “Thanks,” I mutter to Mitch before I give Clay my hand to help me down from the truck. “I was getting my box.”
“Last I heard, they bring those to the door.”
I stick my tongue out at him. “Last I heard, you’re supposed to be at work.”
I’ve got another five minutes until he should be back for lunch, which I forgot to make. I don’t think it matters because the look on Clay’s face says he’s going to be eating me.
“You’re asking for it.” He gives my ass a smack and I let out a yelp.