Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“They’re here,” I say, opening the door.
She jumps up and races outside. “Stay inside! Don’t look.”
“I can’t see through bags,” I say, laughing at her.
She chats with the deliveryman, who is clearly smitten with her. Can’t blame you, man. Then she carries her loot by me and down the hall.
“I’m going to be a while,” she says. “You should probably find something else to do unless you want to see me naked.” She stops in front of the guest room door. “But if you want to see that, I won’t complain.”
She blows me an awkward kiss with the bags in her hands before ducking inside the bedroom.
I chuckle and head for my office to get the prenup. As soon as I sit at my desk, my phone buzzes again.
Banks: Hey, did you eat that pie? If not, can I have it?
I silence notifications and swipe out of the text app.
CHAPTER 15
Bianca
“Should we hold hands?” I ask, gravel crunching beneath our shoes. “What’s an appropriate level of PDA at your parents’ house? Are we supposed to be cuddly or hands-off?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know? What do your brothers and their girlfriends do?”
He rolls his eyes as if I’m ridiculous for asking him to have noticed his siblings’ behavior and then shrugs.
A shrug is not an answer. Yet it’s a classic Foxx answer.
But as I start to prompt him to actually give me a response, a realization occurs to me. He might not have answered me with words this time, but he has spoken more in the past twenty-four hours than I’ve ever heard since I met him. Interesting.
He fidgets with his collar. Foxx doesn’t fidget.
“Stop,” I say, coming to a halt at the base of the steps leading to his parents’ porch.
He faces me. “What?”
I give him a look not to be contrary and make a show of fixing his collar despite it not needing it. My stomach is a mess of butterflies without his sudden bout of nerves. Now that he’s acting nervous, the butterflies start to spread.
“If you don’t want to take me in there—”
“No.” He leans back to look me in the eye. “I’m proud to show you off to my family.”
I pat his chest and take a step back. “It certainly seems like it.”
He gazes over my shoulder at the house I assume he grew up in, and then pulls his attention back to me.
“I’ve never done this before,” he says, clearing his throat.
“You’ve never done what before?”
“I’ve never brought a woman to a family dinner, least of all the one I’m marrying.”
A cheeky grin settles over my lips. “Is that so?”
“Don’t get cocky.”
“I would’ve but you refused to let me have it.”
He shakes his head, chuckling.
“Are you sure I look okay?” I ask, running my hands down the black linen shorts and emerald-green shirt that Astrid had delivered. “Am I underdressed? Overdressed? I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear.”
Foxx grins sweetly. “You are absolutely beautiful, Bianca. And that has nothing to do with the clothes you have on.”
The bridge of my nose pinches like it does just before my eyes cloud with tears. I fan my face to try to ward them off.
“This mascara isn’t waterproof, so don’t make me cry,” I say, sniffling.
“Why would that make you cry?” He laughs, leading me up the steps. “I don’t understand you.”
“It’s a good thing we’ll have the rest of our lives to get to know each other, my love.”
He pulls open the door, amused as I step inside the house.
A barrage of voices fills the house. Conversations and laughter mix with the sounds of running water. The home is warm—both with spices and spirit.
“Wait.” I point at a pillow on the couch and laugh. “Does that say We had sex here?”
“Jess.”
As if that answers the question, he keeps walking.
My stomach forms the smallest knot as I stick close to my fiancé. We enter the kitchen and dining area, and my jaw drops.
I’ve heard people comment on how attractive the men are in my family. I’ve heard it many times. And it might be because I’m related to my brothers, so I don’t see what the fuss is about, but they don’t hold a candle to the Carmichael men.
They all look so similar—just variations on the same schematic. It’s as if God said, “Well, I nailed it the first time, so I’ll make this one slightly taller, that one slightly darker, that one gets a little lighter hair.” They’re so beautiful it’s hard to think straight, let alone find words.
Kixx and a woman who can’t possibly be Foxx’s mother reach us first. They both seem delighted to see me.
“Well, there she is,” Kixx says, pulling me in for a quick hug. “It’s good to see you again, Bianca.”
“Likewise.”
“You know my dad,” Foxx says. “This is my mother, Damaris.”