Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“Is that big enough for you?” I teased.
Because, on the water tower that overlooked the river, where it usually said ‘Paris,’ instead it said, in bright red letters, ‘Cannel, will you marry me?’
She swallowed hard and turned her head slowly.
That was when we finally made it to the other side of the bridge.
My car hit smooth pavement once again, and I pulled over in the park rest stop and turned to her. “I’m not the best person in the world. I make mistakes. I get mad over nothing. I work out way too much and spend a crap ton of money on fitness supplements. But I can promise you that I’ll love you. I’ll cherish you. I’ll live every single day just to please you. We’ll fight, but then we’ll make up. And as long as I have you to hold at the end of every night, I think that would be the best damn life I could ever dream of. Will you marry me, Cannel Crow?”
Tears were flowing down her face as she said, “I’ll marry the fuck out of you, Wilhelm Schultz.”
EPILOGUE
I have someone that’s gonna rub my fatty rolls, kiss my back fat, squeeze my armpit extra, and run his tongue along my stretch marks, all the while thinking I’m beautiful.
-Text from Cannel to Traci
CANNEL
There was a baby attached to my boob, and my husband was laughing his ass off as he all but collapsed the bounce house with his enthusiastic jumps.
“Will,” I said through gritted teeth. “The people coming for the girls’ party will be here in like, five minutes.” Okay, it was more like an hour and a half, but still. His family showed up early. “If you don’t get out of there right now, I’ll literally kill you.”
Will’s eyes shone with laughter as he playfully made a ‘come and get me’ gesture with his hands.
I growled and looked down at the baby that was still going to town on my boob.
“Will! I swear to God!” I cried out.
“Umm, darling?” I heard my best friend, Traci, tease with amusement. “Do you need some help?”
Without thought to her husband standing right behind her—because hey, they had children just like me that were breastfed just like mine—I popped my kid off my boob with a finger to her mouth, then handed her over all the while likely flashing her husband. Traci, laughing, took my now crying daughter and cuddled her to her chest.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Your parents are just going to duke it out real quick, and she’ll be back,” she told Gemma.
Gemma sniffled and buried her face into Traci’s massive breasts, just as I all but launched myself into the bounce house at my husband.
He saw me coming and bolted, sprinting across the fabric mat before turning to intercept me.
Only, I don’t think he was quite expecting me to hit him like a linebacker.
We both went down, him with an “Oomph,” and we hit the floor hard.
The air-blown structure we were in shifted hard, and then we were rolling.
I ended up on top and reached for the man’s neck to squeeze it to death.
Only he caught me, reversed our positions, and then pinned me to the bounce house floor with a leering smile on his face.
“Hey, Trace?” he called, staring into my eyes with a look that I only saw when he wanted to get me pregnant again.
I squirmed underneath him.
“Yes?” Traci answered, sounding vastly amused.
“Will you take everyone inside in a bit and get them changed into their party clothes? I need a minute,” he drawled, grinding his hips down into me.
Traci, my best friend in the world, laughed at me and said, “Trouper and Beckham just got here. I think between the four of us, we can handle getting your brood ready.”
Our brood now consisted of four.
Ashlie and Petra were now teenagers. Then there was our middle kiddo, Spencer, who was now five years old and the reason for today’s party. Our newest was Gemma, who was a whopping three months old.
Over the last six months, I’d been telling Will that Gemma was our last—because being pregnant in the middle of summer sucked big donkey balls—not to mention I was already having trouble getting kids to practices, games, and school events by myself when my husband worked ninety-five hours a week.
Sure, I had family here, but they had lives, too. They couldn’t all be helping us transport our brood around town.
But Will had been trying to convince me of just one more.
And when he looked at me like that…
“Just one more, baby,” he growled, pressing his lips to my throat. “Just one more.”
I didn’t know why he wanted one more. The man was a beast.
He was training each day for a competition, he worked his ass off, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was with me and the kids.