Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
“Okay, now that’s pure genius. You can’t hold a taco and drive. It isn’t safe.” Ollie continued typing. “Where is she, anyway? Did she leave you unattended?”
“I’m not a child. I don’t need tending to. She left her wallet in the car and went to grab it.” I waited a beat. “Ask me why.”
“I’d rather not.”
“She buys stuff on TV, Ol.” I tossed my free arm up, conjuring a smile from Luca as we swayed together. “She’s the only person I’ve ever met that buys stuff off infomercials.”
“That you know of.”
“Point is, I spent twenty minutes watching QVC with her, and Romeo is about to be the proud owner of a foot shaver, an ostrich travel pillow, and a Nicolas Cage pillowcase.”
“She’s your best friend,” Ollie insisted. “Her and Fae.”
I sighed. To be honest, I didn’t doubt it. Not really. Yeah, Dallas could be … much. But I could tell in an instant that she possessed a heart of gold. In fact, I loved her quirks. I wanted to live tweet every second with her, so I could share her awesomeness with the world. No one would believe it, but still.
Plus, it made sense that I’d befriend the spouses of Oliver’s best friends. I was stalling. Filling up our conversation with anything I could, so I wouldn’t break my promise to Seb. Every time Ollie called me, I got closer and closer to demanding answers.
“If you were a nipple clamp, where would you hide?” Dallas charged back into the living room, hands full of breastfeeding gear. “Asking for a friend. Me. I’m the friend.”
“Gotta go. Dallas is back. Love you always.” I hung up the phone and pointed at something beige and silicone wedged between her luxe couch cushions. “Over there?”
Dallas leaned over the back of the couch, staying on the kitchen side of her open floor plan. “Is that Ollie again?”
“Yup.”
“Don’t tell me he’s mad I took you out.” She snatched up the silicone, identified it as a bib, and discarded her haul onto the kitchen island. “God forbid I hurt a single hair on his precious wife’s head.”
“Fiancée,” I corrected, though a little zap of lightning shot through my belly at the word wife.
You are going to be Mrs. Oliver von Bismarck.
Ten-year-old Briar Rose would’ve cried fat, happy tears.
Thirty-three-year-old Briar wanted to fast forward to the wedding, so she could jump his bones. No way would he deny me on our wedding night, memory or no memory. I’d never known Ollie to have such restraint.
Dallas paused her search for the nipple clamps. “You need to defy him more often.”
I frowned. “Do I not?”
Better question – before the accident, did I ever need to? I refused to be restricted.
“Doesn’t matter. In my humble opinion, you can never let your man get complacent.” Easy for her to say. She’d just told me the story of how her husband had taken an actual bullet for her. “God created man so he would be ignored. It’s literally in the bible.”
“Is that in the King James Version or the New American?”
“What’s the first thing Eve does? Eats that apple. Boom.” She snapped her fingers. “She ignored Adam’s request.”
“It was God’s request.” I bounced her napping son against my chest, wondering if he could absorb any of this conversation in his sleep. “And the outcome was pretty horrible. All of mankind banished from Heaven.”
“What are you? A pastor?” Dallas sipped her Frappuccino, drumming her almond nails over the Starbucks cup. “Girlie wanted a snack, and she practiced self-care.”
I blinked. I wasn’t sure I was on board with her version of things. I didn’t remember any of this from the religious history courses I’d taken at Surval Montreaux, but Dallas had grown up in the heart of the Bible Belt.
Dal shook her head, continuing her search for the clamps. “Point is, Ollie needs to be reminded that you are your own person. He can’t lock you in that place like a fairytale princess.”
She had a point.
And I had every intention of broaching that subject with Oliver as soon as I gained back a memory. Just one. Any memory would do. Every time I concentrated on the past, my headaches returned in full force. I’d begun to feel hopeless.
Hettie, the Costa personal chef, paraded into the kitchen with two bags full of groceries. “I told you guys I’d be back fast.”
Dallas clapped her hands, sprinting to Hettie’s side. “What’d you get?”
“I snagged fresh crawfish from Cracking Claws.” Hettie tied up her purple hair into a top bun, slipping an apron over her tatted neck. “It’s Viet Cajun for dinner tonight. I got Andouille, too.”
“Why don’t you stay for dinner?” Dallas spun to me for a moment before flipping open the oven and peering inside for her sex toy. “How do you like your sausages, Briar?”
“On the pig they belong to.” I patted Luca’s back, sauntering between the kitchen and the living room. “I’m a vegetarian.”