Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Nothing could ever compare to them.
Not even the best nature had to offer.
“He would’ve gotten over it.”
“You don’t get over hating people, Gail,” Nettie drawled. “Kind of like I can’t stand you still. You disgust me, and I would rather light you on fire than deal with having you as a mother-in-law. Yet, here we are, getting married at the courthouse next Tuesday. I get to have you permanently in my life.” Nettie smiled. “Though, I do almost have him convinced to go no contact with you…”
That was the straw to break the camel’s back.
My mother screeched something that I couldn’t decipher and launched herself.
Black was ready for the move and caught her before she could move two feet forward. Though not in time to stop my mother from raking her claws across my throat that she’d aimed for Nettie’s face.
“You’re under arrest…” Black said over her screeching. “Assault and…” My mother flailed. “Battery. Trespassing…” More screeching.
Black slipped on my Crocs by the door and hauled her out kicking and screaming.
I’d never seen my mother so undignified in my life.
“That was perfect,” Nettie snickered. “I hope your cameras got that on video.”
“They did,” I sighed. “Do you really want to get married next Tuesday?”
She batted her eyes at me. “Maybe a couple more weeks. I would like to find a dress. But I’m perfectly serious about a courthouse wedding. Can’t have your baby being illegitimate, now can we?”
I winked at her.
“Though, maybe we’ll keep the Wheeler name.”
“You hate your name,” I pointed out. “You can’t wait to get rid of it.”
“You’re right.” She sighed. “Windsor it is.” She paused. “Do you think there’s a way to strip a person of her name? I hate the thought of sharing one with that woman.”
That woman was still screeching so loud she could be heard fifteen feet away through the closed door of an SUV.
Black came back and switched my Crocs out with his boots.
He reached for the beer and chugged it.
“Long fuckin’ night,” he grumbled. “I’ll book her for everything I can think of.”
“Thanks, man.” I held out my hand.
He took it and then handed me the empty beer bottle to keep the mud from trailing back inside the house.
“The FBI agent is at the station,” he said. “She’s something.”
“Something good, or something bad?” I asked.
Black shook his head. “Fuckin’ something.”
Eight hours later, I caught my wife-to-be cackling at the kitchen table, her hand between her legs and her legs crossed as she tried not to pee herself.
She was…beautiful.
Her champagne-colored eyes were sparkling. Her porcelain-white skin had round circles of color high on her cheekbones. Her brown curly hair was bouncing around her face as she giggled.
I hoped our little girl looked exactly like her.
Though, a little girl with her mother’s porcelain-white skin and my black hair would look striking.
“What is your problem?” I smiled, loving seeing her like this.
She pointed at the tablet that rested on the kitchen counter.
I walked over and took a look.
My mother’s mugshot was on the front page of the paper. Digital paper it may be, but there was no doubt in my mind that everyone would know about this in town.
“Oh, god.” She wheezed. “This is the best thing ever! I found myself tagged in it! By Reyelle’s coffee shop page!”
The mugshot wasn’t the prettiest, that was for sure.
My mother’s overfilled lips were pursed. Her eyes had bags underneath them. You could see every wrinkle around her mouth and eyes, as if her Botox had worn off.
She would hate this photo.
She did everything in her power to appear young, and this photo showed her as anything but.
You could even see her roots.
“And look!” she cried. “Her eyelashes are falling off!”
I’d noticed.
“Hah!”
That was the yell that did it.
“Oh, I peed!” She waddled to the bathroom. “Oh, god! I can’t wait to frame this!”
I watched her walk away, the back of her shorts wet, and thought… “So damn beautiful.”
She came back long moments later wearing a pair of my sweatpants. She had them tied in a double knot around her waist, making me wonder if she’d be able to untie them in time for her next pee-attack.
Likely not.
Everything made her pee lately.
Sneezing.
Laughing.
Waiting too long.
Pregnancy was fun.
Women were amazing with all that they had to deal with while pregnant.
“Now, let’s talk breakfast.” Her eyes gleamed. “And can I go to work with you today?”
“Anything and always,” I said. “You tell me what sounds best.”
Her eyes gleamed. “Arby’s…”
Damn. I fucking hated Arby’s.
“Sure, let’s go.”
Sixteen
Does your life insurance know how rough you like your sex?
—Boone to Denver
Boone
Five weeks later
Nettie is six months pregnant
“Son of a bitch,” I grumbled as Holly was all but sprayed with gallons of horse shit.
Holly stared in shock for a few seconds, then stepped forward and continued holding the back leg as best as she could.
I finished up what I was doing and then sedated the horse.