Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“Ohhhh,” he tilts his head in a teasing fashion, waterfall of baby blue lettering flowing to the ground, “is that allowed?”
“Of course!”
“Ya sure?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”
“Cause I’ve seen five dresses and not had an actual chance to say shit about a single one ‘til now.”
“What are you talking about?” My hand flops firmly onto my hip. “You’ve said something about them all except this one.”
“What?!”
“Cowboy, it’s all over your face.”
“What’s all over my face?”
“Your thoughts.”
“Huh?”
The sigh that leaves me is so heavy I swear it reshuffles the shared playlist floating through the sound system. “The lavender dress was too short. You love my legs-”
“So fuckin’ much, Angel Cake.”
“-but don’t need me almost flashing crotch every time I walk out of a room.”
“Me on a murderous rampage would probably undermine the actual gift I got them.”
“The blue one had too many ruffles. You were looking at me the same way you look at a pastry someone has put too much marshmallow fluff on top of.”
He innocently shrugs his bare shoulders. “It was a lot of fluff.”
“You felt the yellow one was sexy but too attention grabbing – and we both know that isn’t what I want on T’s special day – while the green one looked like something I borrowed out of your ma’s closet which brings me to this one.” I give a casual wave to the waiting gown. “What do you think?”
“That you got mind readin’ powers and forgot to tell me.”
Seeing his bubbly lettering gets me giggling. “Nah, you’d know.”
“How exactly would I know?” he challenges back between chuckles. “Would you call me out for thinkin’ about bendin’ you over all the time?”
“Seriously?” Redness can’t be kept out of my cheeks. “How often do you think about bending me over?”
“Thank you for confirmin’ you indeed do not have mind readin’ powers.”
“Nope. Just facial reading ones.” A small pause is followed by me adding. “At least when it comes to you.”
Slater allows a bashful grin to grow prior to pointing. “That dress is a good choice, Angel Cake.”
I warmly smile at him and then the gown.
Terrible taste in attire when left alone to pick something out.
Not too bad when it comes to the assist.
“And I have somethin’ special I want you to wear with it.” My boyfriend gets up to retrieve a small jewelry box from the bedside table; however, before registering the possible contents has any chance to plant itself in my system, he playfully reassures, “You can relax, baby. I’m not gonna propose to you the day of your brother’s engagement shower. That’s tacky. Not tactful.”
“Mmm…” it’s my turn to impishly cock my head, “you’ve been known to be both.”
“When have I ever been tacky?”
“Last year when we went Christmas tree shopping with T and Monte.”
“I wore a sweater.”
“You wore an ugly sweater.”
“It was festive.”
“It was a Big Lebowski monstrosity that had actual bells on the cuffs.”
The man I’m crazy about smiles proudly to himself for a moment.
Further data to add to the reasons why clothes shopping is not an assignment he’s best suited for.
“How about when I do propose, I also promise to let you handle all the attire for our big day?” He lifts the long gray box upward in a peace offering nature. “I’ll even find a way to work that into the proposal itself if you want.”
Dropping my shoulders mindlessly occurs. “Do you…Do you really think about that?”
“Marryin’ you?”
“Yeah.”
“Since the day you gave me blue balls, Angel Cake.”
More laughs leave us both luring me to absentmindedly confess, “I think about it too. A lot.”
Instead of pushing me to receive the present, he cautiously pries, “And?”
“And…” my mouth bobs around in desperation for the perfect retort rather than the one I know I’m going to give. “And I honestly can’t wait to say yes.”
Slater sheepishly smiles once more yet this time it’s trailed by the encouragement to open the object. “Then think of this as a…pre-engagement gift. A uh…a placeholder ‘til the mission is complete.” His eyes lock onto mine so that they as well as his bright blue winding words can hold me hostage. “And the minute it is? The minute we’ve signed those papers? I’m askin’, Angel Cake.”
“And I’m saying yes, Cowboy.” I flash him a sweet beam, exchange the dresses for the unopened jewelry, and flick the lid open to reveal its contents. The charm bracelet inside bears only a single heart engraved with the letter W. “I assume it stands for Wahl.”
“Which I know you never call me-”
“I don’t know about never…”
“Fine. Seldom.”
“Sporadic.”
“Let’s split the difference and call it almost never,” he halfheartedly chuckles and kicks his chin back to it, “but Mrs. Wahl is the one thing I can’t wait to call you, baby.”
Not smiling is unthinkable.
“Soooo…’til I can…have you wearin’ that W – which will then be our W – this will tide me over.”