Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
My gaze went wide as my eyes ping-ponged back and forth between the two.
“What are you doing here?” he sneered.
She pinched the lapel of her uniform and said, “Guess you never were really good at using context clues. That’s why I had to do your English homework in high school.”
My mouth fell open when Audric dismissed her and took the seat across from me.
I looked at Creole and blinked.
She looked my way and I swear I saw her wilt a little bit.
Maybe she wouldn’t be my friend after all…
I walked down the aisle to the man that I loved with my whole heart and soul.
Our friends, including Creole, were there to watch.
And at the end of the aisle was my husband, who watched me with a look of so much love that I missed a step.
This man, with his rough edges, greasy fingernails, and penchant for killing people, held my entire world in the palm of his hand.
And he knew it, too.
“Who takes this woman to be his wife?”
“I do,” Webber’s deep, beautiful voice answered. “Forever. And ever. And ever.”
And fifteen minutes later, I was Mrs. Piers Webb squared.
Epilogue
Marrying a mature guy is stressful. I mean, he just apologizes straight away when he’s wrong. And now what am I supposed to do with my anger?
—Silver to Aella
SILVER
“You want to ride the bull?” my husband, the man of my dreams, the best person that I knew, asked.
“Yeah!” our two-year-old son, Rocky, screamed.
There was only one pitch of sound that came out of that boy’s mouth, and it was ear-piercing.
“Okay, hold on tight,” Piers ordered.
I watched as my son wrapped his entire little boy body around my husband’s hand and arm, his chest resting against the palm of Piers’s hand, and his legs and arms wrapped around his forearm and wrist.
“You ready?” Piers asked.
“Yeah!” again, my son screeched.
“Okay, you have to hold on for eight seconds to get a solid ride,” Piers urged.
“Okay!” Rocky said. “Ready!”
Then my husband started to rock his hand back and forth, and my heart soared.
A year ago, when my son was one, Piers would do this with Rocky, though at a much slower and less intense pace. Now, Piers actually intended for Rocky to fall off to the bed we were currently lounging on.
Rocky held on for the full eight seconds that Eedie called off, but barely.
He landed on the bed with a laughing cry and raised his fists up into the air in victory.
Piers grinned.
Then he full-body laughed when Eedie screeched, “My turn!”
Rocky squealed in excitement, because he loved his big sister with the power of a thousand suns, and clapped his hands.
Piers held out his hand, but he couldn’t hold her for long.
They all fell into a pile of laughter and giggles.
Piers dropped a kiss onto Eedie’s head before turning just in time to catch Rocky as he launched himself onto Piers.
Piers easily caught him—he was Superman with these kids—and tucked him in close. He hooked Eedie around the neck and pulled her in just as close.
Eedie was nineteen now, almost twenty, and in her first year as a journeyman to become a plumber, working under her Uncle Audric.
Audric was thrilled to have her, excited to pass on his knowledge to the next generation.
The soft whimper had me focusing on the other Webb child.
Our newest daughter, Mable.
Mable was three and a half days old, and the final piece of the Webb puzzle.
I had my tubes tied after Mable’s birth, and I was at peace.
I would’ve loved to have more kids, but Piers Webb wasn’t getting any younger, and according to him, he wanted to live life with me and our kids while he was still young enough to enjoy them.
Plus, I wasn’t getting any younger myself, and I didn’t want to have what the doctors considered a “geriatric pregnancy.”
The whimper caught everyone’s attention, but it was Piers who got up and came to me.
“Time to change her?” he asked, reaching for our girl.
“Seems to be,” I murmured as I watched him pick her up.
She fit in the palm of his hand.
At four pounds, eleven ounces, she was by far a tiny little thing.
At full term, we’d all expected her to come out the size that Rocky had been—a full nine and a half pounds.
Color us all surprised when she came into the world, kicking and screaming, and the size of a small doll.
When Webber had her in his hands, it flabbergasted me how small she appeared.
Webber’s hands were huge, and our baby looked so, so small.
She was in preemie clothes and looked like a little doll.
My little lovebug.
Webber expertly brought her up to his big, barrel chest.
He pressed her against his bare skin, and his lips skimmed over her head for a long moment before he headed toward the nursery.
I heard him on the monitor, talking to her in his soft, deep voice, and knew that my dreams had come true.