Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
“Hey! You’re going to make us all cry, Mom,” Emma scolds her right back.
“I’m about to come up there.” Frank’s voice booms through the house.
“You’re supposed to be at the altar!” Emma shouts right back.
“No, we had a change of plans,” I tell them both as I step out of the bedroom to see Frank standing at the bottom of the stairs.
“Mel.” He stares up at me, his eyes wide. I start to go down the stairs, but he’s already coming up them to meet me in the middle. “How do you manage to get more gorgeous every time I lay eyes on you?”
“It’s because pregnant girls glow,” Emma chimes in, making me laugh. Frank shakes his head, probably thinking she’s ruining the moment, but she’s not. These are the moments I love most. All the sweet family banter that goes on between all of us.
“What are you two doing? This isn’t the plan,” Grace huffs at both of us.
“I’m walking her down the aisle,” he answers her before he leans in and kisses me.
“It’s not time for that either,” she grumbles. “This is supposed to be a traditional wedding.”
“If that were the case, then she shouldn’t be in white.”
“Emma!” I hiss, my face warming. With the things Frank and I do, nothing should make me blush anymore, but I can’t help it.
“No need to blush. If he’s anything like his father—”
“Do not finish that sentence, Mom. I swear,” Emma shouts.
“All right. Let’s do this. You all already made me wait long enough.” Frank takes my hand, guiding me down the stairs. We line up and wait for the music to start so the wedding can begin. I had a hand in planning every detail, but I haven’t gotten to see how it turned out. It was going to be a surprise. For the past two days, I have not been allowed to go anywhere near the back of the Charles home where the wedding is taking place, along with the reception.
I can remember being a young girl and dreaming of marrying Biscuit here one day. “Babe.” Frank turns me in his arms. “You with me?”
“I’m always with you.”
“And I’ve always been yours.”
“Not yet.” Now it’s the wedding planner cutting in on us.
I hear the music change over. The back door swings open. I step out, my arm linked with Frank’s. A knot forms in my throat when I see how many people are here. The whole freaking town must be shut down because everyone is here. When I came to Harrisville, all I had was my grandma. This town took me in as one of their own and has become my family.
Frank walks me down the aisle. It had been his request. I thought about asking his dad. I’m really close to both of his parents, who have asked me to call them Mom and Dad now too. But Frank said no one was giving me to him. I was already his. He wasn’t wrong.
I barely keep it together through the ceremony. I think the only thing that keeps me from full-on crying is Frank kissing me throughout the ceremony, making everyone laugh.
“Now you may kiss your bride. Again,” Mayor Reid says. Frank takes my mouth in a deep kiss, his arm wrapping around me to lean me backwards. Everyone cheers. “I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Charles.” Everyone cheers even louder.
Frank sweeps me up into his arms, carrying me back down the aisle and into the house. “What are you doing?”
“Something I’ve been dreaming about doing most of my life.” He carries me into his childhood bedroom, kicking the door closed.
“We have guests!” I remind him.
“It’s cocktail hour or some shit while they switch over to the reception. I made sure we’d have a chunk of time to be alone.” Of course, he did. He places me on my feet before flipping the lock on the door. “I want inside you, but first, I need to show you something.” He walks over to the dresser, opening the top drawer. I wonder if he’s pulling out a note. He writes me little ones all the time, leaving them places for me to find. I think it’s his way of making up for all of those letters I sent that went unanswered by him.
He grabs a rolled-up sheet. I watch as he unrolls it. “You got me the blueprints to Emma’s house?”
“It’s not Emma’s house.”
"What?” I ask, confused.
“Weren’t you wondering why she took every suggestion you made?” She had. I often felt when I was helping her do the floor plan with the builder that I was building my own dream home.
“Biscuit?” He places his hand on my stomach, rubbing the small bump through my dress.
“It’s ours. I got the plot of land next to Emma and Vincent. I know what family means to you, and you’ll want them close.” This time, I burst into tears. Frank gathers me up in his arms, carrying me over to the bed. “You know I hate it when you cry. Even if they are happy tears, as you call them.”