Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Thanks for taking one for the team, Bay,” Courtlynn says, trying to break up the heaviness of the moment. “Now, if you could just have multiples, since we need at least four, so triplets if you don’t mind.” She grins. “Then, on sisters’ night, we’ll have one for each of us to cuddle.”
“Easy there.” I laugh. “Let’s start with one. You and Leighton are just going to have to get busy if you need more than that, or maybe Ellie and Cope might try again soon.” I smile at my oldest sister.
“Not yet, but yeah, we want more.”
“Can I have my wife back?” Macklin says.
“Hold up, cowboy, she’s still ours, and always will be, even when she changes her last name,” Courtlynn tells him when we all stand and break out of our sister huddle.
“Fine, pick a date, Bay.”
“Oh, we can help.” Leighton takes her phone out of her back pocket, I assume to pull up her calendar.
“When are you thinking?” Ellison asks me.
I hold my hand out for Macklin. He takes it and pulls me into his chest. “Soon,” I answer. “I want to be his wife soon. I don’t care when. If you all want to pick the date, fine. Just let me know, and I’ll be there. I do have one request.” I glance up at Macklin. “If it’s okay with you.”
“Anything, baby, you know that.”
“Bro, you don’t know what you’re agreeing to,” Bowen chimes in.
“Hush it, Nichols.” Courtlynn glares at him.
“He’s not wrong.” Dixon laughs.
“Doesn’t matter. If my wife wants it, she gets it.”
Copeland laughs and slaps a hand down on Macklin’s shoulder. “Welcome to the other side, my man. It’s happier here,” he tells him.
“Yeah,” Macklin says, smiling down at me. “It’s a good place to be.”
Those damn tears well again, but I push them back. “I want to get married at the inn. It will feel like our parents are there with us, and while I’m still mad at Mom for what she did, I want to feel them when we pledge our love for one another.”
“Done.”
“Okay, so I’m looking at the reservations now.” Leighton holds up her phone. “I’m assuming that we want as few inn guests as possible that weekend?”
“It’s a small guest list. Everyone in this room, Gram and Gramps, Mac’s parents, and whoever else he wants to invite.”
“Maybe a few of the guys from the circuit. Hank and Brad. They heard me whine about loving you and not being able to have you for years. I think it’d be nice for them to see us get married.”
“Done, so super small. We don’t need to close off the inn. We need a room for Hank, and one for Brad. Everyone else is local.”
Leighton’s fingers fly across the screen of her phone. “Done. I reserved four rooms, just in case.”
“For when?” I laugh.
“Oh, right.” She grins. “Memorial Day weekend. That’s a month from now. You think you can find a dress by then?”
“Yeah, I know I can.”
“And Alice can do the food. We’ll pay her extra, even though we know she’ll complain.”
“I got the cake covered,” Courtlynn says. “This one”—she points to Ellison—“didn’t give me the chance. I’m not missing this opportunity.”
“It was spontaneous,” Ellison defends.
“You’re forgiven.” Courtlynn grins.
“One month?” Macklin says, and I tilt my head back to look at him. “One month, and you’re my wife?”
“Sounds like it, cowboy. Are you good with that?”
His answer is to kiss me. Everyone claps and cheers, but it all fades away, and all I can see is him. The man who loved me patiently and unapologetically. The man who stole my heart. The one who never plans to give it back, and I’m thrilled to live every day of forever with him.
My cowboy.
Twenty
Macklin
* * *
I can’t stop staring at the grainy strip of black-and-white photos we got from the ultrasound yesterday. The lady was incredible and printed a strip for both of us, and I needed mine with me today.
There’s a knock at the door, and I yell for whoever it is to come in with a raspy voice, because yeah, I’m all up in my feels. How could I not be? In less than an hour now, I’m marrying the love of my life.
“Son,” Dad says, as he and my mom enter the room I’m using at the inn to get ready. The Groom’s Room is what the computer-printed sign on the door says. I’m the groom, and my Baylor, she’s my bride. I’m in awe that we’re finally here, less than twenty-four hours after our first ultrasound.
“You look so handsome,” Mom says, smiling as she wipes at her eyes. “What do you have there? Is that from the ultrasound?” she asks, her voice hopeful. Forget that her only son is about to get married, she’s currently more interested in her grandchild’s first photo.