Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 94205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“So does that beard, but I might look funny in one of those.”
“A beard? Yeah, might be hard to grow too.”
“True. But on you, it looks mighty fine. Why aren’t we moving?”
“Seatbelt,” he reminded her.
“Oh. You should put that on, Butchie-baby. You don’t want to get hurt. I thought you would know that.”
“You’d think I would,” he said dryly. Then, reaching over her, he grabbed her belt.
“Oh,” she said, stiffening.
“You all right? Did I hurt you?”
“Hurt me, no? No, I’m fine. Good. Yep. Allll good.”
He pulled the belt over her, buckling her in. “You haven’t hurt yourself again, have you?”
“Hurt myself?”
“Like how you banged your wrist the other day.”
“Oh no,” she said hastily. “Nothing like that.”
He put his own belt on and started the truck, unsure if he believed her.
She hummed. “Do you know I haven’t composed anything since Axel broke things off with me?”
“You haven’t?”
“Nope. Weird, huh? Being a country and western singer, you’d think that I’d have plenty to write about with everything that happened. But the music isn’t coming. Although I’m feeling it tonight.”
She ran her hands down her thighs. He swallowed heavily before he pulled out of the lot. Time to get her home. Before he did something he might regret.
After pulling up in front of the motel, he turned to her. “Wait there.”
“Aye, aye, sir Butchie-baby.”
Good Lord. He got out and ran around to the passenger side, undoing her belt before lifting her down. She tripped, and he grabbed her, holding her against his side.
“Whoa, there, pretty girl. Better hold on to me.”
“I’d hold on to you any day, Butchie-baby.”
“Seems like those drinks really affected you tonight,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d even drank that much.”
“It m-must be b-because I didn’t e-eat today.”
“You didn’t eat today?” he asked in concern.
She was searching through her handbag, but he took it from her, looking through it until he found the motel key. He unlocked the door and helped her inside, shutting it behind her.
“Wait here.” He switched on the lights.
“Okay, Butchie-baby.” She leaned against the door. “You go searching for the bad guys. And if you find ’em, you should beat them up. Also, you should check under the bed. Uh-huh, that’s what you should do. Bend right over . . . right over . . .”
He turned to give her a look. “Are you trying to get me to bend over so you can check out my ass?”
She smiled dreamily at him. “It’s because it’s so cute.”
“You’re going to regret those drinks tomorrow.”
“Probably!” She flung her arms in the air and nearly toppled over.
“Whoa, baby. Let’s get you into bed.” He rushed over to steady her, then he helped her over to the bed. He sat her down before crouching to take off her boots.
“You’re so cute, Butchie-baby.”
“Thank you, pretty girl. I try my hardest.”
“Whatever you’re doing, it’s working.” She gave him a thumbs-up before tumbling back on the bed. He drew up her legs and pulled the covers over her.
“Why didn’t you eat today, baby girl,” he murmured.
“Got to fit into my dress,” she replied.
Shit.
He really fucking hated that.
“Don’t do that. You must eat. Promise me.” He wished he could make that a rule for her.
A soft snore greeted him.
Shoot. He could be in trouble here.
Her snoring really was cute.
11
The dress rehearsal had been an absolute blast.
Not.
She tiredly walked into her motel room. Turning on the light, she made her way into the bathroom to brush her teeth. At least she hadn’t had to wear her pumpkin dress. Although if she had, then she might have had a chance to spill something on it.
Now, that was a lovely fantasy.
Her head was pounding. Emily’s friends had spent most of the night staring at her and whispering. Like they were all back in high school.
Actually, high schoolers were probably more mature. And she guessed this was the most excitement they’d had in a while, considering they lived in Devotion.
Geoffrey had spent most of the night drinking and staring at her, which had made her more than a little uncomfortable. Emily had caught on quickly where his attention was aimed, but rather than taking it up with him, she’d decided to give Lara the death stare.
He’d gotten so drunk that he’d fallen asleep at the table, and no one had even blinked. That didn’t bode well for their marriage. She couldn’t remember him ever drinking like that when they were together.
Her mom had spent all night rushing around and making sure everyone was happy while not noticing that Lara was miserable.
That’s not her fault. She’s busy. And you’re a grown adult.
Geoffrey’s parents hadn’t been there. Probably just as well as she didn’t think they’d approve of his drinking.
But even worse than all of that had been Marcus, the guy Chandler had wanted her to go to the wedding with had been there. She had no idea why he was at the dress rehearsal since he wasn’t in the wedding party, but he’d spent most of the night in her personal space, leaning in too close, or touching her.