Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
He kissed my temple. “Believe it. You look gorgeous, by the way. I think I was too nervous to tell you that before.”
“Thank you.”
“Ryan, everything is exactly the way you wanted it in the kitchen,” said Emme. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and serve?”
“Positive. You’ve been awesome, thank you.” He went into the kitchen, giving her a squeeze on the shoulder as he passed her.
When we were alone, my sister came rushing over to me. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Is this not the cutest thing ever?”
“Yes! Whose idea was it?”
“His!” Emme bounced up and down. “I swear to God, this whole thing was his plan right from the start. He said something about making this birthday dinner much better than last year’s.”
For a second, I couldn’t even remember what I’d done on my birthday last year. Then it hit me—Walter’s big brush-off. “I’d forgotten I’d even told him about that night.”
Emme shook her head. “I can’t even believe that was only a year ago. So much has happened.”
“I know.”
Ryan appeared carrying an open bottle of wine. He’d removed his suit coat, cuffed up his sleeves, and wore a black apron that said CAUTION: HOT STUFF on the front in red letters.
I burst out laughing. “Gift from Grams?”
He nodded and poured me some wine. “Of course.”
“Well, I’m going to take off,” Emme said. “Well done, Ryan. Happy birthday, sis.”
“Bye,” I said. “Thank you!”
“Thanks a million, Emme,” added Ryan. “I couldn’t have done this without you. And Nate.”
“My pleasure.” She blew us a kiss and disappeared. A second later I heard the front door open and close.
Ryan made two more trips to the kitchen, first for a basket of warm bread and next for a serving bowl full of salad.
“I got the recipe for the Caesar dressing we liked at the inn,” he told me, placing some on my salad plate and then his.
I got choked up watching him hurry back into the kitchen and return without the apron on.
“I’m too warm for the coat,” he said as he sat down. “Sorry. And I have to confess that the rolls are from Breadsmith. Grams would not approve, but I ran out of time.”
I shook my head. “Do not apologize. First, I love when you roll up your sleeves like that because your forearms turn me on. Second, everything about tonight is amazing, including Breadsmith rolls.”
“Thank you.” He picked up his wine glass. “To the most beautiful woman—in every way—I’ve ever known.”
We clinked glasses and took a sip, although I was barely able to swallow because of the lump in my throat. “Ryan, this is—this is …” I fought hard for composure. “The sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. Thank you.”
He smiled. “I wanted it to be like something from one of your books.”
I laughed, wiping at a tear that had snuck from the corner of one eye. “It’s even better.”
But the best was yet to come.
After the salad, Ryan served the rest of dinner—all dishes that reminded me of when we met. Grams’s meatloaf with the whiskey sauce, the ginger-glazed carrots from the inn, the green bean casserole I’d brought him the very first night I’d knocked on his door.
I had to laugh. “You did not want me in your house.”
“I didn’t,” he admitted. “You scared me.”
“The next night when I brought you the pie was even worse. You flat out told me I couldn’t come in.”
He nodded. “Believe me, I remember.”
“But you wanted that pie,” I reminded him.
“I wanted you more,” he said.
My face flushed with warmth.
We ate and talked and laughed, remembering how devious Grams had been in getting us together. We vowed to get up there and see her more often. We chatted about Maren’s recent announcement that she and Dallas were expecting (they’d had a small, intimate wedding on their ranch over the summer), Mack’s struggles as a full-time single dad to his girls, my new group therapy program for combat veterans at the clinic (which Ryan attended and had been instrumental in giving me the confidence to implement), his online college classes. They suited him much better than on-campus classrooms had, and he was making good progress toward a degree. I told him every day how proud I was, and he said the same to me.
No relationship is easy, and we had our bad days like any other couple, days where we communicated poorly or reacted badly or forgot to take the other’s feelings into consideration. Sometimes he went a little too silent for my liking when he was struggling with something, and sometimes I poked at his psyche a little too often, but it was only because I loved him so much. We forgave easily and trusted deeply. We had many, many more good days than bad (and lots and lots of great sex).