Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“Are you okay if I leave, Buttons?”
He’s worried about me. Even around people he likes and trusts, he’s worried about me. Those thoughts fill me with warmth, and I nod. “Yeah, honey, I’m good.”
“Of course, she’s good, doofus! Geez, Ryder, it’s not like I’m going to kidnap her and sell her to a band of traveling circus performers.” Mary winks at me before going on. “Of course, we do have some family that travel with the circus. You should see my third cousin twice removed. He’s the strong man, but Tillie, honey, he is packing a really huge—”
“Stop that shit right now, Marigold,” Slater growls, wrapping an arm around his wife.
Mary gives him the meanest look I’ve ever seen in my life. It even makes me want to shudder and it’s not directed my way. “You use that name on me again and I’ll put you on a kitty free diet for a week, Bat Boy.”
“It’s not called a kitty, Ace and if you try to withhold it from me, I’ll find a way to make you scream out the real word.”
“Hmpf,” she snorts, not impressed.
“You’ll scream it out on the pitcher’s mound at my next game.”
“In your dreams.”
“Don’t test me. You know you like what I give you so much you’ll do it. So go ahead, Ace, call me out. I dare you.”
Mary sighs, shaking her head. “You’re entirely too cocky for your own good, Bat Boy.”
Slater pulls her to him and they practically melt together. The love between the two of them is more than evident. It’s so intense I almost feel guilty for being here and watching.
“Give me a kiss, woman and then go try to contain your mother. She’s still pissed at your Dad and there’s trouble on the horizon.”
“Oh shit, this is not good,” Mary whispers, immediately looking worried. “They’ve never been mad at one another this long, Slater.”
He gives her a squeeze. “It’ll be okay, baby. Just do what you do and go get things handled.”
“Shit. I’m going to have to tell them about the baby.”
Slater looks completely shocked. “Are you ready to do that?”
“Ugh. Mom will probably go crazy, but it might give Dad enough happy to get away from being pissed.”
“Whatever you want to do, just as long as she doesn’t try to shrink my dick again, I’m down.”
Shrink his dick? What does that even mean?
“Okay, new plan, Ryder. I’m taking your woman for moral support.”
“Sounds good,” he says, giving me a reassuring smile. I try to return it as Mary all but drags me away.
“Ummm… Mary? What did Slater mean when he said your mother was trying to shrink his err…?”
Mary laughs, despite her obvious worry. “Well, she’s not anymore. See, she accidentally saw my man naked once and I will proudly tell you that he is packing heat and when I say that I’m also adding that it’s so impressive it can be more than a little scary.”
“Oh my…” I whisper, wondering if I’m blushing. I feel heat rising on my face for sure. If ever there was an occasion to blush, I feel like this would be it.
“Anyway, Mom decided what he had was too much for me to handle and began trying to give him homemade herbal drinks to make him what she deemed ‘more manageable’.”
“Oh, yikes.”
“My mother is a lot, but it’s always for good and full of heart,” she says, worry edging back into her voice as we walk toward the house.
We walk up the sidewalk to the porch that is beautiful with a huge swing and several rocking chairs, ceiling fans above creating a breeze. There’s an older woman standing on the porch, hands on her hips, her graying chestnut hair flowing in the breeze. I’m pretty sure I’m looking at Ida Sue because she’s fighting with a salt and pepper—mostly salt—cowboy in faded denims, an old blue, chambray shirt, a faded, well-used Stetson, and skin that looks like it has been kissed by the sun gods every day of his life.
Damn, he’s the kind of man I always imagined I would end up with if God ever showed mercy on me. Of course, he has. It’s just my man happens to be a cowboy, baseball player that I’ve loved for most of my life. I should probably start giving praise to God at least a hundred times a day for the rest of my life for that gift. The thought makes me smile until I look back over at Mary, and she looks really worried now.
“I take it these are your parents,” I whisper.
Mary nods. “Yeah.”
I squeeze her hand for reassurance. I start to disengage, but Mary keeps holding it and I let her. I’m not sure of all the dynamics around here, but I know I like Mary—like a lot. That means I’m going to be here for her in whatever way I can be.