Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 131651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 658(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 658(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
I don’t care.
I kiss her slowly, madly, and deeply, putting all the words I don’t know how to articulate into this tangle of lips.
How much I want her.
How much I love her.
How much she’ll always mean to me tonight, tomorrow, and eternally.
Everything. That’s what she is.
Everything I gave up before she came along, blazing into my life like a falling star, the bap on the head I sorely needed.
She wraps her arms around my neck and holds on so tight. I almost forget about Kit until she clears her throat.
“Hey, guys… aren’t you forgetting something?”
Cleo laughs as she breaks away, giggling and red-faced. I grab her hand and slide the ring onto her finger.
Fits perfectly, just like I knew it would, the tiny diamonds shimmering like the night sky. I knew she wouldn’t want one so lavish or detailed it might get in the way of her painting—so it’s small and delicate.
Beautiful, just like her.
“I love it,” she whispers, glancing up at me and biting her lip. Then she looks at Kit and holds her arm out. Kit runs into her embrace a second later. “And I love you, too. How long have you been keeping this little secret, hmm?”
“Almost as long as we’ve been planning the show,” I say. “I was always planning to propose tonight, but Kit gave me the inspiration.”
“And it worked!” she says smugly. “I knew it would.”
“It’s perfect,” Cleo says, looking back at the hands, all reaching up in a waving salute. “The Hera Egg gave us a family.” She sighs and leans her head against my shoulder. “Gramps must’ve known what he was doing.”
I nod.
Whether he did or not, the boss’ flair for life paid off. Always did.
As we step into the night and breathe the fresh fall air, I look at the yawning sky above, burning with stars. Somewhere up there, I bet there’s familiar laughter.
Leonidas Blackthorn is looking down, chuckling at his handiwork.
I wrap my arms around her and Kit, smiling like I haven’t in years.
“Here’s to family.” I stop and press my chin to her hair, inhaling my fiancée’s heavenly scent.
She smells like apple blossoms and destiny. The scent of life.
“Family,” she echoes reverently. “And the man, the life, the home I always needed.”
29
ORDINARY RICHES (CLEO)
It only felt right to have the whole Blackthorn clan back at the big house in Portland one last time for our wedding day.
It’s a small, yet beautiful thing. Holden wanted small, and so did I.
Just us and the people we love.
We held the ceremony on the rocky beach in the golden autumn sun with blue skies above and sand glittering below. Margot takes maid of honor, and little Kit stands in as the happiest little bridesmaid, beaming as she carries my veil behind me.
As for Holden—
It’s incredible. No one ever tells you how amazing it feels to witness the expression on the man you’re about to marry as you walk down the aisle toward him.
Dad on my arm, smiling proudly. Kit and Margot follow behind in their gold dresses.
Holden’s eyes never leave me once.
There are universes there.
And I’m trying to stop a laughing fit when I reach him, giddy with delight. He catches my hands, pulling me up on the red carpet beside him.
“I love you,” he whispers and leans down to kiss me, even before the officiant says one word. “You look so damn beautiful it hurts.”
“Not too much, I hope.”
“No.”
For once, I agree.
I found this dress in a vintage shop. I think it was made in the fifties and it only needed a few alterations for my curvier frame. Now, soft satin hugs my body like a cozy glove.
Audrey Hepburn, just for a day.
Holden’s suit shines in the sun, a stark ocean blue shadow, the pocket square the same vibrant gold as Kit and Margot’s dresses. He’s let his beard grow out for this, shot down the middle with a grey streak that completes the silver fox look.
I talked him into that.
He never went too far with dyes, but I had to let him know I love him, age and all, and a little weathering with time just deepens that affection.
He’s vowed to stop fighting it.
“If I wasn’t already marrying you, I’d ask if you want to get hitched,” I whisper back, then turn to Dad.
He’s dressed up, too, and not in the wrinkled, afterthought suits I got used to him wearing through my childhood.
He’s also three months sober from everything, including his gambling fix.
It took real time, effort, and tears. Therapy and rehab his inheritance paid for, but he’s already looking so much better.
Brighter eyes, clearer skin, happy glow. He’s been reborn, and for once he doesn’t hate it.
Just seeing my father alert and smiling makes me tear up all over again.
“You get ’em, sweetheart.” He winks at me. “I’m so damn proud of you.”