Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
He cusses before pulling his phone from his ear and selecting a recently called contact.
His call goes unanswered three times before he gives up.
After tossing his cell phone onto the kitchen counter, he scrubs his hand down his face. “I can’t say I’m shocked. This happens a lot. It’s just usually after they’ve tied the knot.” His hand falls from his face before his eyes align with mine. “This is the first time she’s cried, though.”
“Your mother has never cried before?”
I’m taken aback when he answers, “Not once. She has a heart of stone. That’s who Emma, my assistant, says I inherited mine from.”
“She said you have a heart of ice.” My eyes bulge when I realize my big mouth exposed that I’m a snoop.
Zane stares at me with his mouth gaping and his eyes wide. “You faked being asleep?”
“No.” My lie holds out for two seconds when I recall why he left my bed so early in the morning. He was extending his time in Ravenshoe, and I was so delighted he wanted to spend Christmas with me that I wanted to show him my thanks with my body. I couldn’t do that if he remained on the phone. “I faked searching for you.” When he continues to stare, I stomp my foot down like I’m years younger than I am. “What? I was horny, and you were wearing jeans without briefs. My reasoning would hold up in any court.”
Laughing, he bands his arms around my back and pulls me close. I’m in the giddy high of Christmas, and another emotion I’m certain it is too soon to announce, and I would love nothing more than to act on the tingles racing through my veins, but I can’t.
I can’t sob about the loss of human decency and stomp on it only a day later.
After sampling Zane’s lips for a measly thirty seconds, I give him his marching orders.
I shouldn’t love the devastation in his tone when he asks, “You’re kicking me out?” But I do.
“No,” I reply, walking to the door to open it for him. “I’m suggesting you go check on your mother.”
“She'll be fine. She does this all the time. I'm sure everything will go ahead as planned. If I can’t convince her to not cancel the wedding, Casey will be able to.”
“She’s your mother, Zane, and how you treat your mother shows what a true man you are.”
Even when he’s groaning about how fast she falls in love, it is obvious he loves his mother. He wouldn’t want her to be upset, even if the reason for her heartache belongs on her shoulders.
“Besides, my coochie is tired. It needs a break.”
I’m lying, but only to ease his guilt. He won’t say it, but I’m reasonably sure he doesn’t want to leave me alone, because he’s not convinced that I’m fully healed from my confrontation with Peter and my subsequent meltdowns.
He’s wrong, but if I don’t get a second to think, I’ll never work out how he’s caused a more significant impact on my life in a week than Peter did in three years, so I must march him out the door.
“Are you sure? You can come with me. Ma would love another opinion on what white napkin she should pick.”
I push him out the door before another stupid thought can form in his head. “The only time I’ll ever pick linen again is when I’m too lazy to iron.”
Those words did not leave my mouth. Surely. I’ve dreamed about a big Spanish wedding since I was a little girl. Now I’m acting as if marriage is the last thing on my mind.
My mother always said contentment in my personal life would bring me more happiness than anything else.
I didn’t believe her until now.
Zane doesn’t balk about either commitment or noncommitment rants. “All right. We’ll cool things off for a bit. How long do you need for your coochie to recover?”
I smile at his uncomfortable stumble of “coochie” before suggesting, “Overnight?”
He looks upset.
My libido is downright pissed.
I try to calm the waters by accepting one of the multiple insinuations he tossed out the past few days. “You can pick me up around two. That’ll give us plenty of time to get to the church before your mother.”
Zane couldn’t sound more shocked. “You want to come to my mother’s wedding?”
Smiling, I nod. “Uh-huh.”
His bewilderment increases. “The elves have most likely vomited on everything. There’s probably Christmassy spew stretched from the church to the reception hall.”
Mistaking his warning as rejection, I say, “If you don’t want me to come, I don’t have to come. I just thought you might like the support.”
“I want you to come. I need all the help I can get.” He steps closer to me before admitting the actual cause of his fret. “I just don’t want you to believe I inherited an icy heart from my mother.”