Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
He groaned. “There’s no wife, dammit. She’s not real. It’s just an idea.”
“But she is real. That’s the crazy thing, right? She’s out there.” I gestured grandly in the darkness with one hand. “Somewhere out there is the woman that will sweep you off your feet and make you fall madly in love with her.”
“Eh . . . I doubt that.”
“Why? Don’t you believe in true love? Once-in-a-lifetime, struck-by-a-lightning-bolt love?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe in it. I just don’t know if it’s for me.”
I slapped his chest. “That’s so unromantic, Xander. Remind me never to marry you.”
“Did I miss the part where I proposed?”
“I want my future husband to fall head over heels for me instantly, just like your dad fell for your mom. I want him to take one look and know. I want it to hit him like a hundred million volts.”
He laughed. “No, you don’t. It sounds good in stories, but if some guy took one look at you and announced he was in love because the sight of you electrocuted him, you wouldn’t marry him. You’d think he was unhinged. You’d run in the other direction, and rightly so.”
“Okay, maybe love at first sight is a bit much. But don’t you want to fall deep and hard for the woman you’re going to spend the rest of your life with?”
“I guess.”
“God, you’re so unenthusiastic! What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing! Look, if it happens, it happens, but I don’t think it’s a prerequisite to a successful marriage. Not everybody is cut out to have that kind of relationship. I’ve seen guys who fall in that kind of love, and it fucks them up. It’s too unpredictable. Too volatile.”
“What about Austin and Veronica? He’s in love like that, and he’s not fucked up. He’s happy.”
“Maybe, but Austin and I are different. Austin’s a perfectionist, the kind of guy who has to have all or nothing. I’m more laidback. I’d rather be with someone I genuinely like, with an easygoing temperament and a good sense of humor. Someone who wants the same things I do. Someone who doesn’t care that I’m not rich or famous or brilliant, just a good fucking time.”
“Got it. So she can’t be too picky.”
He tugged my hair. “Smart ass.”
I laughed. “I’m only kidding. I think you’ll be a very good husband. You’re protective and loyal and reliable. Plus, you give excellent orgasms.”
“Thank you.”
I snuggled up again. “What does she look like?”
“Huh?”
“This easygoing, funny, good-time future wife of yours. What does she look like? What’s your type?”
He was silent for a moment. “I don’t really have a type.”
“But she’d be beautiful, right? She’d have to be, to catch your eye.”
“Sure. I like beautiful.” He paused, then flipped me over onto my back, settling between my thighs as he looked down at me. “And if she has great tits and likes to suck a dick on occasion, so much the better.”
Grinning, I wrapped my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck. “Good luck finding that wife. I don’t think she exists.”
“I’ll find her,” he said, lowering his mouth to mine. “I’m very resourceful.”
I fell asleep that night happier than I’d been in a long time.
The next morning, I finally decided to look at my phone—mostly because I wanted to check the weather. Xander had promised me a day out on his boat if it was nice. I hadn’t looked at my texts or peeked at my inbox or listened to voicemails or even glanced at social media in forty-eight hours, and given how good I was feeling, maybe I’d stay off the grid for the rest of my vacation.
When I tried to get out of bed, Xander’s arm encircled my waist. “Where do you think you’re going?” he mumbled.
I laughed, trying to pry his wrist from my hip, but he held me fast. “Let me up. I’m just going to grab my phone.”
“You don’t need that thing.”
“You could be right. I haven’t looked at it in two days, and I feel great.”
“I’m always right.” But he loosened his grip on me and I slid out of bed, went over to my suitcase, and dug my phone out. Powering it on, I slipped back into bed next to Xander, who was lying on his stomach, his head beneath the pillow.
“Ugh, I have forty-two texts,” I said.
A muffled grunt was his response.
Ignoring the messages, I opened the weather app. “It’s going to be a gorgeous day,” I said happily. “Sunny and eighty-four degrees. That means you’re taking me out on the boat.”
He pushed the pillow off his face. “Remember how fun our rainy day was?”
“Yes, I do. But we can—oh no.”
“What?” He picked up his head.
“Oh, God.”
“Kelly, what is it?”
“Photos.”
“Of what?” He sat all the way up and looked at the screen.
“Of us. Here at the cabin.”