Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 147136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 736(@200wpm)___ 589(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 736(@200wpm)___ 589(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
The song in my ear ended and “Can’t Help Falling in Love” started playing.
I smiled. I loved this song.
Like loved this song, so much so I wanted it to be what Marcus and I shared our first dance to at our wedding.
It wasn’t. We danced to some overplayed top forty hit instead.
Once Marcus shot down my choice saying he wouldn’t dance with me to some old-ass shit his mother probably got down to back in her day, I didn’t really care what we danced to. I just picked something slow I’d heard a hundred different times on the radio, figuring his mother probably didn’t listen to that station and I’d be in the clear of her ever getting down to it.
Looking back, I should’ve told him to shove it and danced by myself to the song I wanted. I never should’ve compromised on that.
Marcus wasn’t worth it.
Getting lost in the lyrics like I always did, swaying my hips slowly and closing my eyes through the chorus, I didn’t see or hear Brian move into the kitchen or step up behind me, only becoming aware of his presence when he snaked his arm around my waist and kissed my neck.
I sucked in as my eyes flashed open, let go of the rolling pin, and squeezed his arm that was holding me.
“You scared me,” I said, sounding a little breathless, then tipped my head to the side and dropped it back, leaning into him.
He brushed my hair behind my shoulder and took the earbud out of my ear.
“What are you listening to?”
I spun around and watched him bring the earbud up to his ear, hold it there, and listen for few seconds while keeping his eyes on me. His mouth tipped up in the corner.
“Should’ve guessed.” He handed the earbud back, doing so while looking amused.
This wasn’t the first time Brian had caught me getting lost in the King. Wouldn’t be the last either.
I pulled my cell out of my pocket, stopped the song, unplugged my headphones, and set everything on the island behind me.
“Smells good in here, babe,” Brian said, turning his head as if he was sniffing the air.
“Thanks.”
He stepped forward and reached around me. I heard chips crunching.
“What’s with the Doritos?”
“Ah.” I slid over so I wasn’t standing between him and the island anymore, picked up the other bag of Doritos I’d pulverized, and held it up, looking at it and explaining, “It’s the topping for the Mexican Chicken Bake. When the timer goes off, I’ll sprinkle these on top then bake it for another ten. It adds a tasty crunch. Plus, it’s totally kid friendly.” I moved my eyes to Brian. “The twins like Doritos, right?”
He shrugged. “They’re kids. Pretty sure they like all chips.”
I nodded, replying, “That’s what I was thinking.”
We both dropped our bags of Doritos onto the island.
“Is your sister still bringing dessert?”
“Last I heard.”
“Good. Only thing we have is popsicles and that’s our thing.”
It totally was.
Brian had gotten us a house with a porch for the sole purpose of eating popsicles together on it. No other reason. It was totally our thing now.
“In terms of Jamie bringing something, I was thinking,” I began, watching Brian’s eyebrows lift in curiosity. “Maybe you could see if he wants to wear his shiny new medal to dinner. I’m sure everyone would love to see it. I know I would. I’ve never seen a World Pro Am Champion medal before.”
Brian stared at me.
“Babe.”
“Mm?”
“Love you.”
I smiled big.
“Love you, too.”
He didn’t smile back. He stood taller, stuck his hands in his pockets of his shorts, and looked at me carefully when he went on to say, “But maybe you need to ease off your girl a little.”
I stuck my hand on my hip and cocked it out.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“It means I think you’re trying to force something that’s not happening. She’s not feeling Jamie,” he replied.
“She’s feeling him,” I shot back. “She just doesn’t want to admit it yet. I’m only helping it along.”
“No, you’re not.”
I cocked my hip out farther.
“Excuse me?”
Brian looked at my cocked hip, then back into my eyes to say, “You’re not helping, Wild. Your girl is a push away from losing her shit during dinner. Look at what happened two weeks ago.”
I thought back to two weeks ago. That was the last meal we shared with both Tori and Jamie since Jamie was in Cali last weekend and didn’t get back until Tuesday. Nothing unusual was standing out about that dinner, and I told Brian that.
“It was a delightful evening. Everyone loved my beef stroganoff.”
He tilted his head.
“You assigned seats with place cards.”
“So?”
“Think you went a little too far with that one.”
“They sat next to each other, didn’t they?” I reminded him. “And it forced conversation. They talked a lot.”
“They argued a lot,” he corrected.