Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
It was a princess cut diamond, large enough to take my breath away, yet small enough that it wouldn’t hinder my movements. It literally flickered like it was filled with an inner light that was meant to attract the eye.
“Dante,” I breathed. “It’s beautiful.”
His smile was small, and as he came to his feet, he pressed his mouth to my own.
“Nothing is as beautiful as you.”
The sound of an electric razor had my eyes opening.
I smiled as I threw the covers off of my body and made my way to the bathroom.
Dante wasn’t being quiet in his morning routine. But I’d found over the last few weeks since he’d come back to me that he wasn’t particularly quiet in anything he did.
Then again, I should’ve already realized that since I lived with him after my surgery, but I accounted my lack of noticing these things about him to the fact that I was hopped up on the good drugs which allowed me to remain in a semi-conscious state for extended periods of time.
“What put that smile on your face?”
I looked up to see Dante staring at me in the mirror.
“A memory.”
That memory would never get old.
Not ever.
He knew which one. He didn’t have to ask because my eyes had automatically trailed to the ring on my finger that I never took off.
“You coming to work with me today?”
I rolled my eyes.
I’d done that for the last two weeks. Me and Mary made ourselves at home in the staff lounge.
Now, after two weeks of both of us being there constantly, it was like a second home. Mary had a portable playpen that she used to nap in, and I had blankets that I took over the couch with. All of my shows, as well as Mary’s, were on the DVR, and the cabinets were stocked with more than enough snacks to last us while we were there.
Dante would never demand that I stay there, but I knew by his whispered question that he’d feel better having me and Mary close.
Drake still hadn’t been found, and until he was, I knew that Dante wouldn’t be comfortable if we were out of sight.
Which also explained why I was still on leave from my job.
I still had two months left on my extended leave of absence from my illness until the hospital would no longer be required to hold my position for me, and I knew that I wanted to go back at some point.
I loved Dante. I loved this life that we were building. But I didn’t want to be a kept woman. I wanted to do what I loved—and what I loved to do was watch babies being born into this world.
Speaking of babies, the one inside of me started to flip and twirl, making me laugh and press my hand to my belly.
I’d been feeling the movement for weeks now, but it never got old, feeling him press against my hand.
A work-roughened hand joined my own, and I looked up to find Dante standing so close to me that I could feel his body heat seeping into my own.
“Active again,” he murmured, his hand touching my belly.
Through Dante’s old blue T-shirt that I’d worn to bed the night before, I could see my belly bouncing and jolting with each kick and punch.
“Always active,” I corrected, then pushed past him to go to the en-suite bathroom.
I still closed the door. I wanted to leave a little magic in our relationship so I wouldn’t be shattering the illusion any faster than I had to.
As far as he was concerned, I didn’t poop or pee. I was the exception to that baser human instinct.
He may have helped me do both in the beginning of our relationship when I was recovering here after my surgery, but that didn’t count since we weren’t together.
When I came out and washed my hands, I had to roll my eyes at the fact that the bathroom counter was covered in beard hair. This bathroom had double sinks, but Dante couldn’t seem to figure out which part of the counter was his.
After proposing, Dante had shaved his beard.
Not just a trim, either, but a lot—all of it, in fact.
All of it except for a tiny bit of scruff that lined his jaw and upper lip thanks to the trimmer not being able to get quite close enough.
I kept waiting for him to break out a razor and shaving cream, but he never went that far.
My guess was that the beard had represented a part of his life that he was trying to step away from, but I’d never wanted to confirm that assumption.
I just smiled, silently mourned the loss of his beard, and went about my life with Dante.
We did everything together. We talked. We spoke on the phone. We had dinner together almost three-quarters of the time. We were solid, confident in our relationship and knew what we meant to each other. We were our second chance at life and happiness, and we weren’t wasting it.