Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 59671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
And yet here we are.
We get to the altar and Dad kisses me on both cheeks and shakes Tristan’s hand.
“Anderson.” Tristan smiles mischievously.
It makes me giggle, I thought he would be all emotional today, but it actually makes more sense that he would be his playful sexy self.
He takes me into his arms and with his hands on my behind he kisses me, a little bit too much actually.
“Ease up,” Christopher calls and the church all laugh again.
He smiles against my lips and whispers, “Let’s fucking do this.”
Three months later.
The removalist truck pulls into the street as we follow in the car, Tristan, Patrick and Harry are in Tristan’s car in front of us. Fletcher and I are loaded to the brim, Woofy and Muff in the back seat, and today’s the day that we move into our new home. The truck pulls into the driveway and we all pull our cars over.
Tristan bounds out of the car and holds his hands up like he’s some crazy game-show host. “And here she is,” he yells in an over-the-top animated voice. “Home sweet home.”
“Oh my god, he’s so embarrassing,” Fletcher mutters under his breath as he looks around at the neighbors’ houses.
I giggle as I climb out of the car. “You got that right.”
I stare up at the house in awe, it’s so beautiful. Huge and grand, with a lived-in family feel. Seven bedrooms, a study. A pool, you name it, this house has it.
Tristan and I came to an agreement, we kept our old house and one day it will be the boys’. For the next few years we are going to rent it out. It’s the perfect scenario, the house stays with us, but we get to move into a bigger place. I’m not going to lie, having more room is going to be amazing, especially with the baby coming.
The removalists begin to open the back of the truck as they get sorted and Fletcher grabs Woofy’s lead and Harry grabs Muff’s cat carrier cage. Patrick carries the beloved rocket model, they didn’t trust that with the removal van.
Tristan goes through the keys as he walks up onto the veranda. “Mrs. Miles.” He holds his arm out for me. “Come here, please.”
Harry and Patrick roll their eyes at each other and I smile and walk up onto the veranda beside him.
“It is customary for the man of the house to carry the woman of the house over the threshold for the first time.”
“Better let me do it then,” Harry announces.
The boys snicker.
Tristan gives him the side eye. “Move aside,” he says, he goes to pick me up and struggles with a grunt. “Argh.” He steps backward and struggles some more.
“What’s the problem, man of the house?” I roll my lips to hide my smile, a six-month-pregnant woman is no lightweight.
“Don’t worry, Anderson.” He grunts as he swings me up. “I’ve got this. My sheer brute strength makes you light as a feather.”
“Liar.” I giggle as I hang on for dear life, I really thought after we got married, he would never call me Anderson ever again. Glad to report that I was wrong, some things never change.
His step falters once more as he carries me like a bride.
“You’re weak as water.” Harrison rolls his eyes. “Wimp.”
“Apparently,” Tristan winces with a strained voice. “Move out of the way.”
“Don’t you dare drop her,” Fletcher warns. “There’s a baby inside.”
“Out of the way then,” Tristan fires back with a sense of urgency.
We walk through the front door and he slides me down his body, with his arms around me he kisses me softly. “Welcome home, sweetheart.” His lips linger over mine as he puts his hand protectively over my pregnant stomach. “I love you.”
I smile up at my beautiful husband. “I love you more.”
“Oh god, here they go again,” Harrison moans.
“Tris….” I look around at the grand foyer. “I can’t believe this house is really ours.”
“Only the best for my family.” Tristan smiles proudly with his hands on his hips. “Anyone leave any shoes at the front door and it’s go time,” he adds.
The removalists carry the first piece of furniture up the front lawn. “Where do you want this?”
“Upstairs.” He takes the stairs two at a time like an excited little kid. “This way.”
“The baby is now the size of a large cantaloupe,” Tristan calls, he’s deep in concentration, lying on the couch with his feet up over the back of it.
Fletcher rolls his eyes at me as I toss the salad.
“Really?” I call.
“Yeah, and did you know that it can now distinguish voices and sounds?”
“Really?” I call again as I smile, I did know that but I’ll let him tell me.
“So we better start talking more to her, boys,” he calls again.
“Why do you keep calling it a her?” I ask.