Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Tor nods. “And you’ve got some explaining to do. Like what the fuck you’re doing breaking in here.”
“I didn’t break in, the door was unlocked. Or, maybe I sort of unlocked the door.”
“Potato, potahto.”
I grunt, stepping in between them all. “Potato, potahto, my ass! You two are not going to ruin this for me and scare him off.”
“Nobody is scaring me off. Ever,” Chance says behind me. “And speaking of your ass.” I feel his hands settle on my behind, and a grin spreads over my face.
“I think that’s the cue for you two to get the halibut out of my house! I don’t need you muscling in here, okay? I’m fine. Better than fine. And unless you want to see your sister getting her freak on, I suggest you make your way to the exit.” I point at the doorway as I watch both Tor’s and Cyrus’s faces drop at the mention of what’s about to happen.
They exchange a glance, close their eyes like they are trying to forget what I just said, then back away.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Tor asks as he gets to the door.
“Out!” I shout. “Both of you, out of my house, this second!”
I watch them leave, a little grin playing on my lips.
“Alone at last,” Chance whispers, echoing my thoughts right in my ear, making me tense, he’s so close. I squeal when his lips connect with the back of my neck, and I feel just the slightest pinch of his teeth.
Turning, I’m wrapped in his arms, and there’s no more waiting left in either of us.
As I sink down onto my knees, eyes on his face the whole time, I can’t help but wonder how I ended up so lucky. One night of throwing caution to the wind, and now I have everything I could ever want.
Right here.
And for the rest of my life.
Chapter Thirteen
Sophia
Two months later
“God will forgive you.” My grandmother makes the sign of the cross, then raises the gold and diamond crucifix hanging on a thick woven gold chain around her neck, brings it to her red pencil-lined lips, and gives it a kiss. “She just got things out of order,” she whispers to the ceiling as I sigh.
The savory scent of my wedding meal dances in the air, making my mouth water. The menu for our reception dinner is eight courses, and I’ve been riding my staff like Zorro for weeks to make sure they have every detail covered, so I can enjoy my day and not have to go all Gordon Ramsay on them in the middle of my reception.
“God is happy I’m in love and I have a husband that will protect his family to his last breath. God doesn’t care that we did the baby making before the ring exchange, Gran. It’s all semantics.”
She fusses her hand in the hair, then pokes at the twisted gray bun on top of her head. “You shush. Let me deal with God.”
I snort, looking over my shoulder as Mom fusses with the bustle on my dress, as three generations of the women in our family share a quiet moment before we all sit down for our first dinner as a family that includes my husband.
I look ahead to the framed photograph of all of us, less Chance and Natalie, that sits on the corner of my desk. Without a father to count on, my mother did a great job raising us, especially considering none of us were easy.
“The ceremony was perfect,” my mom says as she fluffs the layers of silk and lace until she’s satisfied, then marches around in front of me, hands on her hips. “I think Chance and your brothers cleaned out every white rose and lily on the East Coast.”
“Ivory,” my grandmother chimes in as we both whip our heads around to give her a look. Her bony fingers turn upward. “I’m just old-fashioned. She’s wearing ivory and the flowers are ivory.”
“Oh, Jesus, Mom.” My mother throws her hands up with an exasperated scoff.
Gran points at her daughter, eyes narrow, brow cinched. “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain.”
“Okay!” I throw my hat in the ring. “This is my wedding and I wore what I wanted and got the flowers I wanted, and I do not give forty winks that I’m knocked up before I signed some paper and had some old man in a robe pronounce that Chance and I are man and wife. Husband and wife, he should have said, but I digress.” Heat boils up from my center, bleeding in splotches over my chest. “Can we just drop it and have fun? There is food and wine, and I shut down my restaurant for this, so let’s go have fun.”
They both stare at me, lips in tight frowns, but their matching eyes sparkle with humor.