Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
I shake my head. Shit. I am absolutely going to cry again.
“Do you want me to try and make up another chorus of the song or should I just grovel more in general?” he asks. “Whatever works best for you is good with me.”
“I love you too, you idiot.”
His answering smile is everything. It’s just that complicated and that simple. “You do?”
I nod my head jerkily.
“June, still waiting on an answer,” says Carmen from the roadside. “Yes or no to beating the crap out of him with a wet fish? You know, preventative measures are never a bad idea. Might make him think twice next time he tries to pull this sort of crap.”
My smile turns into laughter turns into joy. “Maybe not this time,” I say.
“You’re getting off light,” says Carmen, with her fish still in hand. “But there’ll be other days and other fishes.”
“I consider myself warned.” Nash’s fingers are still on the guitar, and he looks at me with such warmth and…I don’t know. He’s my person. I found him and I’m keeping him. And forever doesn’t feel like nearly a long enough time. Though I guess it’ll do for starters.
Six Month’s Later
“Do I look ridiculous?” asks Grandma.
“What? No. Why would you think that?” I haul myself out of the chair. Being five months pregnant with twins is no laughing matter. Or a moving fast matter. “You look wonderful and you’re marrying the man you love.”
She sighs.
“You do love him, right?”
We’re in the back office of the bar. Music and chatter can be heard coming from the main room, but it’s not quite time for us to make our appearance. Not until Grandma decides she’s good and ready. She’s wearing an elegant floor-length white gown with a red velvet bow around her middle. Sabrina styled her hair and had her cousin help with makeup. Grandma is the perfect Christmas bride. And I’m in a green empire-line maxi dress with comfortable shoes and my hair in a chignon.
“Of course I love him,” answers Grandma. “You know, I never wanted to do this again after losing your grandfather.”
I nod. “Risking your heart is hard.”
“Yes, it is.”
Which is when Bernadette charges through the door with a large bowl in hand. The whole idea of us having some privacy in the back office before the ceremony was a fallacy. “Where do you want the ambrosia salad?” she asks. “I added extra Cool Whip and marshmallows for those who have a sweet tooth.”
“Bernie, food goes out on the table set up in the bar,” says Isa, also appearing at the door. “I already told you this. Just admit you wanted to snoop on Audrey’s dress and then be on your way.”
“Wearing white for a second wedding isn’t right,” Bernie sniffs. “I wore coral to mine and then plum for the third. If there’s a fourth, I’m thinking lemon would be nice.”
Grandma stares contemplatively at the smaller white-haired woman. “I don’t remember inviting you to this event.”
“I’ll just go add my salad to the buffet,” says Bernie, making a swift exit.
Grandma gives me a wink. Then her serious face descends again. “Right. This was no impulsive course of action on either of our parts. I thought about it at great length and decided this was the right move for both of us.”
“You did,” I concur.
“Charlie and I discussed it.”
“Even I can confirm that,” says Isa. “See you out there.”
“And I love him very much.” Grandma takes a deep breath and lets it out slow. “Maybe I should have another shot of whiskey to calm the nerves.”
“It’s your wedding,” I say. “If you want to walk down the aisle drunk, you’re entitled.”
“Only tipsy, dear.”
“Okay.”
“Ladies,” says my fiancé, walking into the room twirling a piece of holly with intent. “I’ve never seen Charlie this nervous. He’s out there losing his shit, worried you’re going to change your mind or something.”
Grandma smiles. “That makes me feel so much better. He should be nervous. You have to keep them on their toes, June.”
“You’re a ten, Grandma,” I say. “The man’s beyond lucky to be getting you.”
Nash nods. “This is true. You know, it’s not too late to let me officiate. I would make an amazing celebrant. A couple of jokes, a song or two, we could really turn this into an event.”
“I’m sure you would,” I say with a smile. “But they both already said no, didn’t they?”
“Another dream crushed.” He smiles and cups my face to give me a kiss. “Guess I can’t officiate at our wedding in September.”
“I don’t think it’s legal to marry yourself like that. Or, not marry yourself, but…you know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean, my light,” he confirms with another kiss. This one longer and more involved. Because Nash in a three-piece suit with the button-down shirt open at his strong throat is hot as fuck.