Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Mal frowned. “Really? You won’t come?”
Ace’s eyebrows lifted up, and he reached behind him to grab for my hand. I gave it to him because it felt like he needed it at that moment in time.
“Yes, really,” Ace said. “Not only are you having it at the church that my mother went to for help when my father was beginning to act weird, then told her there was nothing wrong. But you’re also marrying my ex-girlfriend who didn’t stand by me when I was at my lowest. Do you honestly think that I’d waste time on either of those things? Not to mention you haven’t really been there for me, either.”
Mal looked utterly devastated. “We’ll move the wedd—”
“No, we won’t.” Marjorie stood up, spine stiffened. “We’re having it there. If this asshole doesn’t want to come, he doesn’t have to.”
Ace grinned.
“Y’all have a nice day now,” he said as he tugged me toward the door.
I went, curling my fingers between his, and practically jogged to keep up.
The moment that we made it outside, his hat once again went onto his head, and he continued his near sprint.
“Whoa.” I tugged on his hand. “You need to slow down. My legs feel baby giraffe-like. I’m fairly sure you’ll be peeling me up off this concrete if we continue at this pace.”
He instantly slowed down and offered me an apologetic smile.
“Sorry,” he said. “They just really piss me off.”
I shrugged and grinned, not bothering to pull my hand free.
He still had a very tight hold on it and was keeping it in his as if his life depended on it.
He walked much slower for me once we put a little distance in between the deli and us.
“That place was good and all,” he said as he paused to look into a shop window. “But I’m still hungry.”
I burst out laughing.
“That’s what I tell Desi!” I cried out. “I’m always hungry when I leave there! And if not then, then immediately after.” I paused. “But that’s also why I order so much food. One itty bitty sandwich and a bag of chips ain’t gonna cut it.”
He was nodding as if he completely understood.
“We should go get a snack,” he suggested as his eyes went to something two shops down. “How do you feel about cupcakes?”
I looked at the cupcake shop under question and felt my resolve not to spend any time with him start to melt away.
Because he’d just found my weakness.
Cupcakes.
Especially Zephy’s cupcakes.
I looked at him with torture written all over my face.
“Don’t take me in there,” I whispered. “I’ve managed to make it months since I’ve been home… but the moment we go in there, I’m not going to be able to stop myself ever again. It’s like a living, breathing monster. It’s dampened right now because of space and time since I’ve had it… but wake that beast up…”
He grinned.
Then he pulled me into the cupcake place.
***
An hour and a half later, I was lying in the middle of Ace’s living room with Ace on one end of the couch eating another cupcake, and Banks in the armchair with his legs kicked out in front of him.
“Why did you buy a tree?” Banks asked.
Ace shrugged. “It’s Christmas. Isn’t that something you normally do when Christmas rolls around?”
Banks looked physically ill.
We’d come home with two dozen cupcakes, and between the three of us, we’d demolished half of them.
Banks and Ace apparently shared their love of food, unlike Callum.
We’d literally eaten until we were so stuffed that we couldn’t move.
Yet Ace continued to eat.
“Why is it you can put away four cupcakes the size of your fist, yet you’re so perfectly toned that you can’t tell?” I muttered darkly.
I’d probably gain four pounds, one for each cupcake that I ate.
“Because he’s going to wake up in the morning and run five miles at about seven minutes a mile, and then work his ass off outside all day,” Banks muttered, watching the box still. “Let’s put this tree up.”
That was how, ten minutes later, I was putting ornaments that were also recently bought from a mom and pop shop just down the road from the gym onto the Valentine tree.
“I’m not really a good decorator,” I admitted as I hung yet another blue ball in the same two-foot section. “Am I supposed to change these colors up? Or should I just, you know… hang ‘em? I don’t know.” I paused. “This is why I have Desi help with my tree. I suck.”
Ace laughed and walked up behind me, reaching over my head and hanging a gold ball about a foot over where I’d been hanging my blue balls.
Then I had an idea. “You know, we could alternate these colors. You hang the gold balls up high, and I hang the blue ones about mid-way, then another set of gold balls at the bottom… that sound okay?”