Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
I don’t get to finish, though, because Duke is pushing up to his feet and rounding the table and grabbing my face in his hands. He kisses me, hard, and I feel his cheeks go damp as he keeps kissing me, his tongue in my mouth, his hands in my hair.
“Thank fuck,” he finally breathes, breaking the kiss. “Because I’m in love with you too, Blue. I always wanna dance with you and make you s’mores and go on treacherous road trips with you.”
“Dear Lord, let’s hope we don’t have any more of those,” I say, giggling like an idiot because I am an idiot for this man.
I am stupid in love with him, and I don’t care who knows it.
“Most of all, though, I always wanna be the one who makes you smile.” He runs his thumbs underneath my eyes. “You and this baby—y’all are my world now. Grateful doesn’t begin to cover how I feel about that fact.”
I kiss his mouth. Softly this time. “Can we dance now?”
“Yes, Blue.” He pulls me to my feet. “Answer’s always gonna be yes if you’re the one asking.”
We dance in the kitchen until my feet hurt from busting several terrible moves and my sides hurt from laughing. We dance to Billy Joel and Whitney Houston and old school Tim McGraw. Duke sings totally off-key along to Kenny Loggins, while I know every word to Reba’s “Fancy.”
The whole thing is silly and stupid and quite possibly the most fun I’ve ever had stone-cold sober. When we finally collapse into bed, I fall asleep almost immediately, curled up in my usual position as little spoon.
Sometimes, love really does win.
Thank God for that.
CHAPTER 32
Quittin’ Time
Duke
The week Wheeler’s parents are due to visit, I take Thursday and Friday off to prepare.
Even though they’re staying at the New House, I still clean the cottage top to bottom. I pay a small fortune to have three new rocking chairs and a pair of side tables for the family room rush delivered. I mow the grass, stock the fridge, mop the floors, and practice making a few recipes from one of Mom’s cookbooks. I refresh the tape we use to hang Ella’s and Junie’s art on our fridge, including the three pieces we won at the auction. Wheeler and I figured we’d have her family over to the cottage for dinner the night we tell them about the pregnancy, so I planned a simple but hearty meal: skillet pork chops with shallots, cheesy grits, and roasted brussels sprouts.
Wyatt brings over some wine. Ever since Mollie taught him all about Barolo so he’d sound smart on his first date with Sally, he’s become obnoxiously helpful on that front.
Ava and the girls bake us chocolate chunk cookies for dessert. Patsy drops off some homemade vanilla bean ice cream, along with a note. Good luck! Please remember that firearms are to be used for life-and-death situations only. Don’t pull a John B! Much love, P.
John B and Wyatt had a—well, we’ll call it a “charged moment” when John found out Sally wasn’t going to take some big veterinary job in New York. He mistakenly thought she wanted to stay in Hartsville because Wyatt was holding her back, when in reality, he was planning to leave his whole life behind and move to New York with her.
A shotgun was involved. So were some choice words about Sally’s decision to forgo the job offer. Luckily, Sally, Wyatt, and John B were able to quickly work through the misunderstanding, and no one was shot. Still left us all a little shaken. How could I not be, seeing one of my favorite people in the world pull a gun on my brother?
Ryder, being Ryder, doesn’t bring anything except advice I don’t need.
“They may say you and Wheeler are dead to them, but I doubt they’ll actually mean it.”
I set one of the new rocking chairs in front of the hearth on the porch. I cluck my tongue when I see it’s not the exact same shade of black as the other two I already have. “So helpful. Thanks for nothing.”
“Hey. I’m just trying to lighten the mood a little. You’re clearly nervous.”
“What makes you say that?” I pull the rocking chair an inch to the right. Nope, now it’s too close to the fireplace. I pull it two inches to the left and curse when I see that it’s too far.
Ryder nods in my general direction. “You’re obsessing over stupid shit. Her parents don’t care if your rocking chairs are in a perfect fucking circle. They just want to know that you love their daughter and that you’ll be there for her when this baby comes.”
Straightening, I wince at the soreness in my middle. All this prep is doing a number on my back. “What if they’re not? Like, if they’re not there when the baby comes, I mean. Wheeler’s not super close with her parents or her older brother. But I know she’ll be crushed if they pretend like none of this is happening and don’t participate in our kid’s life.”