Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“If you’re the fastest one on the field, you don’t have to worry about getting tackled.” His grin reminds me of Tagger’s—devil in the detailed corners, genuine when it expands.
“That’s good advice, right?”
“Yeah. I’m getting faster, but not fast enough not to get tackled.” The tips of his toes reach for the edge of the coffee table. He’s always been a part of our adult lives, so sometimes I forget how young he really is.
“Practice. That’s always the key to being the best.”
“That’s what Grandpa Grange says.”
Memories come back of us boys out at Tagger’s or the ranch racing each other. Competition is in our nature, but we’ve taken it too far more recently. It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt. Hurting Shortcake is now something I have to live with and make sure I never do again.
Beck’s asleep in the chair before the ice cream arrives. I put it in the freezer before I tuck him into bed in the extra bedroom where I have my home office. I pause at the door for one last look back at him.
The only time I ever thought about kids was when I was trying to prevent it from happening. Would it be so bad to have a few of my own? Before I get ahead of myself, I’m reminded that Beck has always been an easy kid to be around. Never fussy, though the sass is coming out as he gets closer to those teen years.
I’m pretty sure any offspring of mine will come with a big dose of hellion inside. Maybe Lauralee’s genes can balance them out. I close the door and walk down the hall to the living room, scratching the back of my neck. I’m starting to not recognize myself.
I jumped feet first right into marriage, and now I’m thinking about kids . . . as in having them? All it took was the right woman to come along. Now that she’s in my life, I’ll give her the universe.
A text is waiting on my phone when I return to the couch. Three black-and-white photos from our wedding day accompany the message: A preview of the big day.
My lungs scream for air, making me realize I hadn’t been breathing. I never considered myself a sentimental man, but seeing these photos of Lauralee looking at me like I can do no wrong reaffirms my commitment to love this woman with all that I am.
The flash flares in her eyes, highlighting the glistening tears when we exchanged our vows. Her entire body is filled with too much happiness to hide on the courthouse stairs as we run down them together. The smile that holds no limits to joy, the way it reaches her eyes, and the swing of her arm. She’s carefree, how it should be.
I look damn good in my suit. It’s always been a favorite, but I only wear it on special occasions. On short notice, it worked out great.
But it’s the last image that stole my breath when I first saw it, just like she did the night we spent together in her apartment in May. So much has changed since then, but I’m beginning to believe most of it’s been inside me. She’s rocked my world and flipped it upside down. The view isn’t so bad from this new angle. I actually quite like it.
Most people would gravitate to the other photos full of laughter and movement. Not me. This is my favorite. Simple. Classic. Two people in love. No showy grins or knowing exchanges. We stood on the steps with her head resting on me, holding hands, and the flowers lowered on her other side. It feels real, subtle, and intimate, a photo only taken for us to enjoy.
I reply to the photographer’s text: Incredible. Can’t wait to see the rest. It’s last minute, but I’d love to give my wife a copy of that third photo. Any way to rush a print and bring it over by end of day Wednesday?
She replies: If you don’t mind the rush fees, I’ll hand deliver it myself.
Me: I’ll cover the charges. Thanks.
I send the photographer my address, instructing her to leave it with the doorman. Lauralee will love seeing this. I can’t wait to give it to her. And kiss her. God, I miss those lips and everything else about her.
With my baseball team in the lead going into extra innings, I decide to turn off the game and get some sleep. Beck will be up early because I promised him pancakes at his favorite breakfast joint before we go to the park. He’s a pancake monster I’m happy to feed.
By the time I’m in bed, I don’t text my girl, I call.
“Hey there, stranger,” she answers, sounding like a smile is set on her face. It is on mine just from hearing her voice.