Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Are you serious right now?” I scan his face, but his expression is unwavering, which gives me pause.
“Yeah.”
I blink. “You’ve never even had a girlfriend, and all of a sudden, you want to get married?”
“I think it would be smart.” He shrugs.
“Smart?”
Is this conversation really happening? I glance over at my mom and dad, and they both look totally invested in the topic while I’m beginning to get annoyed.
“It will make things easier in the long run.”
“I’m sorry—did you do some kind of drugs on the way over here to pick me up?”
“He’s right. It would be smart,” Dad inserts, and I look at him as my chest starts to burn.
“It’s not 1920. Women do not have to get married if they end up pregnant.” I get off Dayton’s lap. “And I just got divorced. I don’t even know if I ever want to get married again. Also—” I hold up my hand when it looks like he’s going to speak. “—you and I barely just agreed that we are, in fact, seeing each other. So how do we go from that to it all of a sudden being ‘smart’ for us to get married?” I glare at him and wait for him to reply. Not surprisingly, he doesn’t say a word. “That’s what I thought.” I turn my attention to my mom. “Can you drive me home?”
“Franny,” Dayton says, but I don’t even look at him.
“I….” Mom glances over my shoulder at Dayton, and I press my lips together.
“Never mind. I’ll go find Jacob and have him drive me.”
“No one is driving you home but me,” Dayton states, and I cross my arms over my chest and turn to face him as he stands.
“I’m not getting in your car. Not when it’s apparent that you are suffering from some kind of brain trauma.”
“I don’t have a brain injury.”
“Well, then you got abducted by aliens and they did some experiment on you that made you lose touch with reality.”
“Francisca.” His jaw clenches.
Oh, he’s annoyed?
Well, so am I.
I would never get married just because it would be “smart.” Heck, I didn’t even marry Matthew because of that. And it had been smart—he checked all the boxes. He had a good job, long-term goals, a 401(k), and all the other crap that doesn’t actually matter when you are in a relationship. Still, I didn’t marry him for any of those reasons; I married him because I loved him and thought we would spend the rest of our lives together. So the fact that Dayton said he’d marry me like it was some kind of business arrangement he doesn’t want to miss out on is not only annoying—it feels like a punch to the gut.
Dragging my eyes off him, I walk around the bed to where my mom is standing and wringing her hands together. I can only imagine what’s going through her head.
“I’ll come visit tomorrow.” I give her a hug.
“Okay,” she says quietly.
Letting her go, I lean over the side of my dad’s bed. “I’m annoyed with you, but I love you.”
“I love you too.” He kisses my cheek, then adds quietly, “Take it easy on the guy.”
Of course, he’s on Dayton’s side. I know why he thinks it’d be smart for us to be married. We’re having a child, and that is what he would expect of his pregnant, unwed daughter. And although the news of my pregnancy hasn’t hit the gossip cycle amongst his and Mom’s group of friends, I’m sure when it does, most of the people they know will sit up on their high horses and judge the fact that I got pregnant out of wedlock, like they don’t live in glass houses.
Screw them.
After grabbing my bag from the dresser next to the door, I leave the bedroom and can feel Dayton right behind me as I walk down the hall.
“PJ!” I shout. I haven’t seen him for at least thirty minutes, so I have no idea where he might be hiding.
“Franny—”
“I’m not talking to you,” I tell Dayton, stepping through the door into the kitchen when I hear the tinkle of a tiny bell. Going to the pantry, I find PJ sitting next to Dallas’s empty food bowl with an obviously guilty look on his adorable face.
“Seriously?” I sigh. I should have remembered to put Dallas’s cat food up when I got here, but I didn’t, and I’m sure PJ ate it all. “Come on, brat.” I pick him up and turn to leave the pantry but run right into Dayton.
“We need to talk.”
“Not right now.” I scoot around him.
“Francisca,” he clips, and I spin to face him.
“I don’t want to say something I might regret, Dayton, so give me a little time.”
“Fine.” He walks toward me and takes PJ. “But I’m driving you home.”
Not wanting to argue, I follow him out of the house to his SUV that is parked around the curve in the driveway and hurry my steps to pass him so I can open my door for myself, which results in him making a sound in the back of his throat. Handing me PJ once I’m seated, he stares at me for a long moment before he sighs and shuts my door. I put on my seat belt, then drag in a breath as I watch him walk around the hood.