Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
I swallow a burning gulp of coffee, letting his words sink in. “We agreed to this. For the time being, this is your home,” I say. Do I think it’s a waste of time for him to put everything in storage for six months? Sure, but he’s a grown man and can decide for himself. Who am I to tell him what to do? I tried to tell him I was a mess, and he still insists we can do this whole being drunk-married thing and find our happily ever after. “Bring whatever you need or want to make this place feel like home.”
“You, Brogan. You make this place my home.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“Say what you feel. I want this to work between us. Communication is an important part of every marriage and every relationship. It’s just me, Brogan. You can tell me anything. You can say anything. I’m still going to be here.”
“This is a lot, Maddox. We went from acquaintances, friends of friends if you will, to being married, and you’re talking like we’re forever.”
“We were friends. More than acquaintances. And I want this to be forever. I know you’re not where I am right now, and that’s okay. I’ve wanted you for a long damn time.”
“That’s what you’ve said.”
He shrugs. “It’s my truth. I can feel it here.” He places his hand over his chest, and my heart races as if it has a direct connection to his. “We can go the distance, and maybe you’re right, maybe we can’t,” he’s quick to add. “But I want to find out. I want to give this thing between us everything I’ve got. I want to know at the end of this, if there has to be an end, that I gave you one-hundred-percent of me. If you make me walk away, I want to know it’s without regrets.”
“When I tell you that I’m a mess, Maddox, I mean it. There is so much about me, my past, my fears, my inexperience.” I let that confession hang between us. “I hate to see you get your hopes up and then be disappointed.”
“Never.” He stands and walks to the sink, rinsing out his cup before coming to stand next to me. He pulls me into his arms and rests his chin on my head. “I could never be disappointed in you, Brogan. Give it all to me—your past, your fears, and your inexperience. Add in the inability to trust too. I want it all, baby. I’ll prove to you that you are not broken. You are not damaged, and you’re not a mess. What you are is my wife, my beautiful wife.”
“I want to believe that,” I say, my voice cracking with emotion. It’s been one hell of a rollercoaster the last couple of days.
“Do you want to come with me to my place?”
I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but changing the subject isn’t it. I guess I assumed he’d keep trying to convince me that we’re not fucking this up.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“You’re my wife now, Brogan. You’ve got shotgun no matter where I am. I don’t care where I’m going or who I’m with. It will always be a better time if you’re with me.”
“Is there a book you read or something?” I ask him.
“What?” he asks, releasing his hold on me.
“What to say to make her melt? Swoon-worthy one-liners? Capture her heart: Say the right things? Come on, you can tell me. In fact, you should offer copies at the shop. That author deserves praise for his or her work.”
He’s grinning, which in turn makes me smile. Trust me, you can’t have Maddox Lanigan turning that wide smile and those baby blues on you and not smile back at him. I’ve tried, and it’s pretty much impossible.
He smacks my ass, making me yelp, and his smile grows. “New rule in the Lanigan house,” he says, his smile lighting up his big blue eyes, while my belly flips as he refers to the home we’re sharing as the Lanigan house. “We no longer talk about this not working. We both give it everything we’ve got. No, ‘in six months’ talk. It’s us. That’s it.”
I think about what he’s proposing, and I nod. I don’t want to be a negative Nelly all the time, and he deserves me to give him this, even though I already know how it’s going to go. “Okay.”
“Good.” He bends and tosses me over his shoulder, and I shriek with laughter. “Let’s get ready, and I can take my wife to breakfast before we move me in.”
“I can walk.”
“I know you can, Mrs. Lanigan, but I like my hands on you.” He carries me to my room. Make that “our” room, and tosses me gently on the bed.