Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Removing my earbuds, I tell her, “You don’t have to do that. I checked with the guys. There’s plenty of lemonade.”
She glances at me over her shoulder—or she means to glance, but her gaze catches. My gray workout shirt is sleeveless, and her gaze travels over my muscular arms, down my body, then back up to my face. Her brown eyes are warm and inviting, and I’ve practiced enough restraint today, so I don’t stop myself from walking over and locking my arms around her.
“I’d ask how you slept, but I think I know the answer.”
She smiles, leaning back against me, and I kiss the side of her face. “I tried to fall asleep,” she tells me. “But my mind wouldn’t stop. I had all these ideas, and I was afraid if I waited until morning, they’d be gone.”
“You’ll have to show me later.”
“I will. All but the section with ideas for my dress,” she says. “You get no hints about that.”
“I’ll let you have your secrets—for now,” I tease. Giving her ass a squeeze, I add, “Why don’t you put some of this fruit away and I’ll make breakfast?”
She shakes her head as she reaches for lemons to put them back into the bag. “Every counter in this kitchen is covered with my messes. I’m sorry, I should have cleaned up.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re worth the mess.”
I let go, and she flashes me a smile over her shoulder. I work on breakfast while she makes some space, and as she’s tidying up her wedding prep area, she asks, “Do you think I should ask Tessa to be my maid of honor as a nice gesture?”
“If you want to, but you don’t have to. It’s your wedding, it should be what you want. Ask Shaley or Brynn. You’re closer to them. Tessa can be a bridesmaid.”
“I just don’t want her to be offended.”
“I don’t care who you offend,” I say as I crack an egg into a bowl.
“I know, but I do,” she mutters. “I’m thinking of asking your dad to walk me down the aisle,” she tells me, and I can hear the mild uncertainty in her tone. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“I do. I think he’d like that.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to be a Walters,” she says. “That feels illegal.”
“Cassie Walters,” I say, the name bringing a swell of satisfaction with it. It’s not the first time I’ve thought about Cassie’s name attached to mine, but it’s the first time I’ve said it out loud.
“That will take some getting used to,” she says.
Not for me.
I smirk, my memory drifting back to the picture I drew of her in kindergarten. I’d never been to a wedding, but I’d seen my parents’ wedding photo enough times, so I drew us in the same poses.
But I don’t tell her about that.
___
When Cassie comes out of the bedroom, she’s looking very Stepford chic in a short white dress with oranges all over it, but it’s not a Stepford date night. She and her friend Addison picked out these dresses for all the girls to wear when they hosted a larger-scale Stepford movie night that none of my friends complained about attending, but Cassie’s repurposing it today to work the lemonade stand.
“What do you think?” she asks, doing a little spin.
She knows what I think. “I’m a lucky man.”
She grins up at me, but knows my fingers are itching to grab her, so she moves away just as quickly. “We’ve gotta get out of here. If I miss Addison’s orientation, she’ll be so pissed.”
“You already know what to do.”
“Yeah, but you know Addison,” she says, shooting me a look over her shoulder as she grabs her purse. “She likes to make a production of things, and today, I’m in the ensemble.”
I roll my eyes, but I know she’s right. Like Killian, I sometimes don’t enjoy sharing my girl’s attention with someone who sucks up so much of it, but I do like seeing Cassie happy. After being the reason she lost all her shitty old friends in Holbrook, I’m happy to be the reason she has so many better ones now.
“You know what I’m looking forward to?” I ask her.
“Helping me collect signatures and make the world a better place?”
“No.” I catch her around the waist, pulling her against me even as she tries to get away.
“Tor, if you make us late…”
I kiss her neck, then murmur close to her ear, “I’m looking forward to when this is over, and I get to bring you back home. You’re going to show me your wedding album,” I say, kissing the skin just below her ear. “And then we’re going to watch an episode of that Netflix show you love.” Another kiss a little lower. “And then I’m going to take my beautiful almost-wife into the bedroom, and do you know what I’m going to do to her?”