Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
I look out across the small sea of faces again, old friends and distant relatives we’ll be pressing hands with all evening.
Everything has fallen into place, better than I ever could’ve hoped.
Even Cooper Daley got what he deserved.
The land deal falling through drove him off the deep end. His careful, power tripping and underhanded seductions started getting sloppy.
And yes, when Mom told me he’d started sending gross texts to a lady in her classes again, I might have let Mom slip the woman’s number to Margot.
What happened next was sweet justice.
Now, his wife is leaving him, and his finances are—
Yikes.
That’s the only word.
The little real estate empire Cooper Daley built will be in a tailspin for a long time to come.
That means plenty of fresh opportunities for Blackthorn Holdings, but that’s just the icing on the cake.
Daley tried to trick people into giving him what he wanted instead of working for it honestly. He let greed and ego win, and now they’ll cost him everything.
Pigs get fat, hogs get slaughtered, Ethan reminded me the other day.
I feel a surge of pity for his ex as I look up at Ethan again.
I’m sure she never imagined a betrayal like that on their wedding day.
If Ethan had a traitorous, cheating bone in his body, though, I think I would know.
As I look at him in awe, tracing his jaw, loving the thicker beard he’s grown in lately and the sharp angles of his face, the compelling softness of his eyes, I’m certain he’s a different man.
He’s a unicorn now.
Uniquely alpha without any alpha-hole.
Thank God.
Thank God he’s mine.
We keep it local for the honeymoon, leaving just a couple days later, and I have no regrets.
Sailing Nova Scotia just north of the border with Ares is a dream.
Best of all, Ethan agreed to drop a lot of his usual comforts, leaving pure, plain us and a wild landscape that’s beautifully rugged.
The tiny cottage we’ve rented—more of a cabin, really—is true adventurer stuff.
The rocky forest surrounds us, the sea sparkles in the distance, and most of all, we have each other.
Ares immediately settles on the small wooden deck when we arrive, belting out lazy warning barks at the birds.
“This view is perfect!” I turn in Ethan’s arms as his hands find my waist.
“Knew you’d like it.” He drops a kiss on the end of my nose.
The living room even has a bookshelf piled high with old books, an enormous TV I’m sure we’ll barely spend any time watching, and a large sectional that curls halfway around the room.
That will see plenty of use, I’m certain.
Just maybe not the kind it’s built for.
I run through the small rooms like a kid excited to be on vacation. I may be living out my lighthouse keeper’s wife fantasies and I’m not sorry.
The bathroom reeks with too much potpourri and the bedroom isn’t what I’d call spacious, but so what?
We have a bed.
That deserves a mention because it’s so vast.
I think we could sleep starfished and still not touch.
The moment I see it, I leap on the mattress, turning around and grinning up at him from where he stands by the doorway.
“We should sell your house in Portland and move here,” I say.
“Our house,” he corrects. Technically true since my apartment is no more.
That was a moving pain, briefly, but now I’m pumped to start filling his library with real books.
“Our house,” I repeat, and it feels good. “But maybe we should consider selling it.”
“For what?”
“This!”
I throw out a hand, reaching toward the rustic ceiling that slopes at one side and the little window that’s straight from a colonial lover’s dream.
The closet is so small I probably can’t fit inside, but this place has charm.
Ethan walks forward, filling the small space.
His presence, his essence, his scent.
God, I’ll never get used to it.
“Hattie, if you want a vacation home, we can still keep the place in Portland. We have enough money to buy twenty of these without breaking a sweat.”
“Yeah, well… just being practical.”
“Why would we give up our large and comfortable home for a place that doesn’t even have a working toilet?”
“Oh, God. It doesn’t?” I bolt upright.
He chuckles, shaking his head.
“The fact that you believed me says everything about your tolerance for living in the sticks. We’ll keep the place in Portland for now. Never mind the quick hop to New York.”
Shuffling to the end of the bed, I reach up and wrap my arms around his waist.
“You’re a dick,” I say affectionately. “And fine, so maybe we shouldn’t move here. But I like the vacation home idea. It’s lovely having somewhere you can reset and step back from everything.”
He smooths his hands through my hair, tugging out the knots with such gentle affection, it makes my toes curl.
“I know. I need that too.”
“Does it ever feel like you’re going to wake up sometimes?” I whisper, tightening my hold on him so he can’t pull back and see my face. Always his first response when I get all emotional.