Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
“Okay,” he said slowly.
“Now, I’ll preface this by saying, I know you’re super into sports.”
Another ass squeeze and a murmured, “Baby,” told me he knew where this was going.
I still took it there.
“But I’m kinda not.”
“I hear you,” he said softly.
“I also don’t have the TV on all the time.”
He nodded.
“I like to listen to music. I also like quiet. Not that I don’t like TV. You know I do. I just don’t like it on all the time.”
“Right.”
“This doesn’t mean I’m never down to watch sports. Just that I don’t want to have it the soundtrack of my life every night. So I have a small pad, and you probably don’t want to miss games, but you don’t have anywhere to go so you can watch them without me having to watch or just hear them. Your pad is bigger, but ditto with that. So, um…we need to figure this out.”
“NFL games, maybe not sacrosanct, but I look forward all year, if I don’t have to work, to chilling out and watching them. That’s a thing for me.”
“Okay.”
“World Series, NBA playoffs, March Madness, also things.”
Oh boy.
These occasions were stacking up.
I nodded.
“And I don’t like to miss any of the tennis grand slam finals.”
This just kept getting worse.
I bit my lip.
Knox slid his hands up my back. “Baby, none of those are more important than you.”
I relaxed.
“You got something on when a game is on, and you want me with you, I’m there,” he stated. “You got something you wanna watch, we can discuss who’s gonna tape and watch later. You don’t want it always on in the house, I can go to one of the guys’ houses and watch or round up some buds and go to a bar. This is doable.”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“You aren’t gonna be a sports widow.”
He said that so firmly, it was like the words were etched between us.
My guy was the greatest guy alive.
I touched my hat, lifted my foot and touched my heel.
Then I said, “You’re the best, Knox Chambers.”
He grinned.
Jacques punctuated my statement by leaping to his face and licking his jaw.
I grinned.
Jacques leapt out of the way when I bent to kiss my man.
What happened next wasn’t a quickie, per se.
But as usual, it was awesome.
TWENTY-THREE
BEAUTY IN NEUTRAL
When Knox, Jacques and I wandered down to the wedding committee meeting (I’d taken off the shoes, I’d kept the hat), it appeared as if it was a full-blown OSRA (Oasis Square Residents’ Association) meeting.
Most of the residents were there, for starters.
There was also the normal theater style setting of chairs purloined from the courtyard and those that usually sat outside people’s apartments, which was the usual setup for OSRA.
And there was a long table on which were five big thick books resting in a line.
There was also a podium.
On the front of the podium was emblazoned a circular gold rimmed seal. It had Oasis Square curled at the top, a palm tree and saguaro in the middle with some ripples and lines that clearly indicated the corner of a pool, and Residents’ Association curved at the bottom.
That podium was new, all of it, including the seal, something I’d never seen.
It was also unsurprising.
Bill and Zach took their tenure as co-presidents seriously.
“Yoo-hoo,” Tod, our visiting committee member, hurried up to us.
Important note: Tod had planned all the Rock Chicks’ weddings. I’d seen pictures. He had the touch. As such, he’d horned in on Alexis and Jacob’s wedding because he apparently couldn’t get enough of spreading joy and giving brides and grooms the best memories he could manage.
He and his husband Stevie were also really cool dudes (obviously).
“Hey, Tod,” I greeted.
“Hey, man,” Knox greeted.
“Yes, yes,” Tod did not greet.
He bent, picked up Jacques, gave him a coo and a nuzzle, which Jacques returned (not the coo, just the nuzzle) then he took my hand and dragged me to the book table, still holding Jacques.
Knox followed us.
Tod opened a book, saying, “You’re only just official, and I’ve been wrapped up in Alexis and Jacob’s day of joy, so I’m warning you, don’t be alarmed at what you see. These are very preliminary.”
Holy shit.
Raye told me about this. So did Willow. And Jessie. Also Harlow.
It was my official wedding scrapbook.
Holy shit!
Knox was standing right behind me, so close, his chest was brushing my shoulder.
A shoulder he was looking over to see the scrapbook.
This was not good.
Nothing made a man run faster than a woman talking wedding, essentially, in week three of their relationship (I know, we were deeper in it, but you get me).
So, sure. It was Tod talking wedding and not me.
Samesies.
Alarmingly, Tod kept doing that talking.
“With your coloring, which is superb, and your vibe, which is very close to Raye’s, I’m having trouble locking down a color selection and overall theme that will be new and unique. But don’t worry. Once we get Alexis and Jacob through their day, I’ll be able to concentrate better.”