Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
He was right and honestly, after the whole maybe-pregnancy scare, she wasn’t sure she was ready to be a mother yet. She would have loved that baby, and given him everything he needed, but a part of her had regretted possibly having to take another hiatus from her business, just when she had it up and running again, and she’d felt too young and unprepared for motherhood.
“I agree.” She settled down on her chest again. “I don’t deserve you, you know? I’m the one getting the better end of the deal here. I hope to hell one day you don’t look at me and wonder why the fuck you’re married to such an undeserving prick.”
Lilah sighed and shook her head.
“Not gonna happen. You’re a farewell present to me from Gramps and vice versa. And not one I’m thinking of ever re-gifting.”
“What?” He sounded baffled and, remembering that he hadn’t read Gramps’s letter, Lilah climbed on top of him, and straddled his broad chest—ignoring the spark of desire in his eyes—to lean over and open her side table drawer, where she kept Gramps’s letter.
“I think you should read this,” she said, after curling up next to him again. He stared at the envelope for a long moment, before—with clear reluctance—tugging it from her hand.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice quiet and hesitant.
“Yes.”
His throat moved as he swallowed and she held the envelope for him as he tugged the letter free.
She didn’t watch him as he read it, keeping her head on his chest, but she could hear his uneven breathing, the unsteady beat of his heart, and eventually the quiet rustling of the paper when he refolded the letter.
“Jesus. I don’t—” The choked words died in his throat and she finally lifted her head to look at him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve that man in my life. To deserve either of you. But I’m so damned grateful for the both of you.”
His face was wet with tears, his expression somewhere between awed and devastated.
“He knew all along.” His voice was reverent and shaky and Lilah smiled.
“Gramps was a wily old guy.”
“He was right, about me needing your sunshine—I’ve often thought it myself—I don’t think I’m able to function without you anymore, Lilah. You’ve fucking ruined me.”
“Nah, I’ve improved you.”
He chuckled, the sound rusty and joyful.
“Can’t argue with that. You have improved me. And Cyrus knew you would.”
“You’ve improved me too, Ben.”
“I doubt that, cupcake, it’s hard to improve upon perfection.”
She laughed outright at that. “You’re on a love and sex high right now, Ben. Be careful what you say, because my ego won’t let you forget any of it. Now, for the love of God, Benjamin, can we please have a nap? You’ve worn me out.”
“Yes, but Lilah?”
She sighed dramatically and lifted her head again. “Whaaat?”
“I really fucking love you.”
Epilogue
ONE YEAR AND SIX MONTHS LATER
“I’m really nervous,” Lilah told Ben, smoothing her damp palms down her skirt as she surveyed the gathered crowd of people milling just below the elevated podium.
“You’ve got this, cupcake. Everybody is having a good time; they’re excited to be here. One short speech and you can have that glass of champagne you’ve been dying for, kick off your shoes and join your friends for whatever unruly shit you girls get up to when I’m not looking.”
“Join who?” she asked with a confused tilt of her head and he glared at her.
“No.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She blinked at him in wide-eyed confusion. “What girls?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’re such a child sometimes. Join your hoes, okay?”
She chuckled and went onto her toes to kiss him.
“But you’re so cute when you get all disgruntled, Ben.” He pressed his palm into the small of her back and dragged her closer to give her a proper kiss. Somewhere in the distance, her hoes howled in delight.
“Stop that,” she whispered, scandalized. “That would be okay with just our friends around, but there are all kinds of stuffy suits here today too. And I want to impress them.”
“They’ll be impressed with you, Lilah. They won’t be able to help themselves, you’re an impressive woman. A fucking force of nature. Just look at what you’ve done.” He waved his arm over the gathered crowd, and further than that. The sprawling, three-mile-long park, complete with jogging trail, dog-friendly facilities, several man-made ponds and water features. They—and a few hundred workers—had planted thousands of indigenous shrubs, fully-matured trees and endangered fynbos. It was her—and the hoes’—pride and joy. A year-long project drenched in their blood, sweat, and tears.
The Cyrus Beckett Nature Park, situated in the southern suburbs at the foot of the mountain, easily accessible to people from all walks of life, was opening today. In the middle of November, on a perfect mid-spring day. Her opening speech—during which she would announce the foundation she’d started in Gramps’s name—would be followed by an open-air concert. They had food trucks, face painting, activities for kids and dogs. Everyone was welcome and there were already thousands of people in attendance.