Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Immediately, I messaged Bianca. It’s on. Friday 4:45.
Bianca: Wow. Okay.
Me: Are we still doing this?
Bianca: Stop asking me that. Your insecurity is tiresome.
Me: So is your smart ass mouth.
Bianca: Come for dinner.
Me: Tonight?
Bianca: Yes. We’re getting married in three days. I feel like a plan might be a good thing.
Me: Right. In the meantime, let your family know.
Bianca: Will do. Come at seven.
Me: You’re so fucking bossy.
Bianca: Well, maybe there will be someone more meek and submissive hanging around City Hall Friday at 4:45.
Me: I can only hope.
But it wasn’t true. As I tucked my phone into my pocket and went out the back door, I realized the only place where I’d want her submissive was in the bedroom—but only after putting up a really good fight.
The idea of it distracted me all day long.
I brought her roses.
“What’s this for?” Her expression was suspicious as she dipped her face into the bouquet and sniffed.
“You’re welcome,” I said, entering her condo and slipping my coat off and hanging it in the front hall closet.
“Sorry. Thank you—they’re beautiful.” She led the way into the kitchen and pulled a vase from the pantry. “It just surprised me, that’s all.”
“Why should it surprise you? I know how you love fresh flowers, and I know white roses are your favorite. Plus, it was a good opportunity for people to see me doing something romantic. I parked sort of far away from the florist so everyone would see me walking down the sidewalk carrying the roses.” I sat down at the island and tapped my forehead. “I’m always thinking.”
She laughed as she cut the stems down. “Ah, so it was for show.”
“Isn’t everything? Smells good,” I said, glancing at the pot on the stove. “What are we having?”
“Meatball sandwiches.”
I grinned. “My favorite.”
“I know. Want to pour some wine?” she asked, filling the vase with water. “There are a few bottles in the rack.”
“Sure.” I chose one and opened it. “I’ll even get the glasses down from the high cupboard for you. Hey, I should put that in my vows.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I talked to Judge Reinhart today, and he said the official part of the ceremony is pretty quick and impersonal, so if we wanted to add any personal vows, we could.” I pulled two glasses down and poured the wine.
“And you want to add personal vows?” She paused her flower arranging and tossed a surprised look over her shoulder.
“I thought it might be more convincing that way,” I said defensively.
“You might be right.” She finished with the flowers and set the vase on the island. “Thanks again for the roses. I love them.”
“You’re welcome.” I handed her a glass of wine. “I also talked to my father today.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh yeah? What did he say?”
“He said he’s having paperwork drawn up to name me as his successor.”
“Cheers.” She touched her glass to mine, took a sip, and set it down. “Want to make the sandwiches while I put together some antipasto?”
“Sure.”
“The broiler is ready. I usually stick the rolls in there with a few slices of provolone before I—”
“I know how to make a sandwich, Bianca.”
She smiled. “Do your thing.”
Working side by side, we got dinner together and sat down to eat. “Did you tell your family about Friday?” I asked.
She nodded. “My mother cried.”
“Mine too.” I took a big bite of my sandwich—it was delicious, just like everything she made. “By the way, our reception begins at six.”
“Nice,” she said. “Where is it?”
“The Bulldog Pub. We rented out the back room.”
Her nose wrinkled. “My wedding reception is at the Bulldog Pub?”
“Listen, princess, we had to call in a favor to get it, so don’t complain.”
She sighed. “Fine. The Bulldog it is. I need to figure out what I’m going to wear.”
“Same.” I took another gigantic bite. “This is really fucking good, by the way.”
“Thank you. I think you should wear a black suit.”
“Okay. What color tie?”
She took a bite and thought about it while she chewed. “Red.”
“Done.”
“I guess I’ll get a white dress.”
I shrugged. “Sounds good to me. Do you want another ring? Like a wedding band or something?”
“Nah,” she said. “One ring is good enough. You want a ring?”
I shrugged. “I’d wear a ring, I guess.”
“Okay. I’ll get you one. What about food?”
“I talked to the Bulldog owner. We’re working it out. If you want to take over the menu planning, be my guest.”
She nodded. “I’ll go over there tomorrow. We’ll keep it simple. Open bar?”
“Probably easiest.”
“So who’s coming to this party? Did you invite anyone today?”
“Griffin. Cole. Beckett. My family.” I shrugged. “I told my mother no aunts and uncles, no cousins. She claimed they were never going to speak to her again.”
Her eyes were wide as she reached for her wine glass. “What did you say?”
“I said, ‘You’re welcome.’”
She burst out laughing, and it made me feel way too good.