Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Like she's sure she's going to win this game without trying.
In the morning, we pack, check out, drink too much tea and coffee during a brunch with the entire party.
Then we head out with Cassie and Damon.
Laurel and Zack drive back with the grooms.
Even though we don't hit traffic, and we only stop to refill our drinks and use the bathroom, the drive feels far too long.
We get back to my place in the afternoon.
It's Monday. I only have one more day of vacation. My boss insisted I have a proper honeymoon.
One day isn't enough.
But I'm going to savor every moment of it.
Finally, Cassie and Damon say goodbye and drive back to Mom and Dad's house in Mom's car.
Daphne leaves for two hours to gather enough to stay here for a few weeks.
I use the time to grab groceries and fix dinner.
She walks into a house that smells of oregano and tomato.
But she's not alone.
My parents are with her.
Hers too.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Jackson
"Nice to hear the news my oldest son got married from Instagram." Dad moves through the house like he owns the place. That's how he does everything. Wherever he goes, he's the man in charge. Usually, he does it with a casual smile, as if he doesn't see anything as a big deal. Today, he's not attempting to sell his easygoing side.
"We didn't hear it from Instagram." Mom greets me with a hug. "We heard from Cassie."
"She didn't," Daphne says.
Mom nods and releases me. "She did. And we're not mad. We're disappointed."
Daphne's dad chuckles. "Does that work?" Mr. Webb—I guess I should call him Miles, now that he's my father-in-law, looks to Dad and raises a brow. He has the same blue eyes Daphne does. She has his eyes and her mom's sharp features.
But then, I'm not here to marvel at the beauty of genetics.
I'm not here to do anything.
This is my house.
"You could have called," I say.
"See, that's what I was going to say," Dad says. "You could have called when you got married."
"Let them enjoy it, Tom." Mom laughs. "Remember our first week as newlyweds?"
Dad's expression shifts from grill my kids to ooey, gooey romantic. After all these years, he's still madly in love with her.
And she still looks at him like he hangs the moon.
She does it now. He softens immediately. He enjoys their beautiful moment of togetherness.
"Congratulations," Mr. Webb, I mean Miles, says. He holds up a bottle of sparkling cider. "I believe we owe you a toast."
"Four toasts," Daphne's mom, Ms. Smart, no, Meg, says. "If my wordy husband leaves room for the rest of us."
"How could you say that, princess?" Miles teases her. "I'm a poet."
"And you know it," she rhymes.
He shakes his head that was bad.
"Brevity is the heart of wit," she says. "And you're no Oscar Wilde."
"You don't think I'm witty now?" His voice drops to a flirty tone.
Is it because they're around my parents? They're regressing to their early twenties, the way Zack regresses to his teenage attitude around all of us.
The way I—
Well, this parental foursome is enough torture for one day. I don't need to give myself shit too.
"I didn't cook enough for six," I say.
"We'll order Thai," Dad says.
"Tom." Mom nudges Dad. "It's his place." She looks to me. "What your dad means to say is thanks for welcoming us."
"Yes, please stay for dinner." I nod to Daphne's parents. "Can I get you something to drink?"
Miles holds up the sparkling cider.
Daphne laughs. "We get it, Dad." She hugs her dad. Then her mom. "I'll get the glasses." She looks to me and mouths sorry.
I shake my head. This isn't the way I pictured the evening, but I'm glad to have our families here to support us.
"I'll put the food away." I follow Daphne into the kitchen, point out where she can find champagne flutes and water glasses.
She glances at the tomato sauce on the stove. "That looks good. I hate to miss it."
"We can eat the leftovers tomorrow," I say.
"Jackson Steele eats leftovers?" She laughs. "You don't cook every single meal fresh?"
"Do I seem that high maintenance?"
She motions a little.
My lips curl into a smile. I like the way she sees me. She sees the side I try to downplay, the side I'm not supposed to have, and she likes it. She likes it enough to tease me.
After I put the food away and she hands out glasses, we meet our parents in the foyer. It's not the place I'd suggest a toast, but it works well enough.
Miles pours sparkling cider for everyone, then he stands next to his wife and he raises his glass. "Daphne would never admit this now, but when she was a kid, she loved Fashion Island. Whenever we visited Grandma and Grandma, Daphne demanded a trip to the outdoor mall."
Daphne's cheeks flush.
It's almost as adorable as my mental image of Daphne as a kid, gazing at the giant outdoor Christmas tree.