The Reality of Everything Flight & Glory Read online Rebecca Yarros

Categories Genre: Angst, Chick Lit, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
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“Kitty,” he whispered.

“And if you were just joking, that’s okay, too. But if you really meant it, then feel free to ask whenever you want, because my answer is yes.”

He laughed. “I should plan it all out, but I’m not going to.”

“Wait. Do you want kids? More kids, I mean. That’s probably something I should know.” Because I did. Lots of them.

He blinked, then smiled with his whole face. “I do. Do you want the one I already have?”

“More than anything,” I answered. “It would be a shame to toss her out after all the work I just went through to save her.”

“God, I love you.” He kissed me, soft and slow, and when our lips parted, he swept in deep. My fingers curled in his flight suit, and I returned his kiss with all the love I felt for him. “Marry me, Morgan Bartley.”

Two years later

The peach cobbler looked perfect. Everything about this weekend was pretty perfect, actually. The weather was gorgeous, I’d scored six uninterrupted hours of sleep last night, and Jackson even managed to have all of Labor Day weekend off.

“Whoa, that smells good. Need any help?” Sam asked as she walked into the kitchen, tying her curls into a ponytail.

“Thanks! I could definitely use a hand. I think that’s the last of it.” I pointed to the gallon of ice cream I’d just pulled out of the freezer.

“Got it!” She grabbed the gallon by the handle and nodded toward the door. “Let’s get out there.”

I stacked the peach cobbler pans so they didn’t get smooshed, then followed her out of the beach house. She shut the door behind us, and we started down the steps. It was still in the low eighties, but the late-afternoon breeze kept it tolerable.

“Boathouse looks good,” she said as we reached the bottom. “Last time I was here, it still had a giant hole in the side.”

I scoffed. “That was almost two years ago, which tells you how long it’s been.” I eyed the spot my Mini Cooper had gone through. We’d long since rebuilt, but I still missed that little car…and the truck. It had been found a few days after the hurricane, thank goodness, and though we’d had to salvage it, I’d gotten back the only two things I’d cared about. Both Will’s wings and his dog tags now resided in the bottom drawer of my jewelry chest.

Jackson had offered to frame them for me, but it felt right to tuck them away, safe and sound.

“It’s been too long,” Sam agreed. It really had.

“You’d think you were still stationed in Colorado instead of Fort Bragg,” I teased, hip bumping her as we turned and walked toward the dune steps.

She laughed. “We’ve been there a month. Cut us some slack. I’m sure we’ll harass you guys plenty in the next six months.”

Six months from now, we’d be at our new duty station in Cape Cod.

“We’re keeping the house, so just let me know whenever you guys want to come and use it,” I told her as we climbed.

“You guys thinking you’ll retire here?”

“That’s the idea. We both love it, and Vivian and Brie are both here.” The breeze whipped the strands of my hair that had come loose from my braid as we crested the dune.

The sight brought an immediate smile to my face. The bonfire was set up, ready to be lit at sunset, and our friends had already staked out their seats.

Garrett and Sawyer manned the grill while Javier lectured and Christina laughed at something her husband had said.

“I said I would help!” Paisley chided as we carried the food past the giant, empty sunshade and put it on the table.

“You’re not supposed to be carrying things,” Sam lectured.

“I’m pregnant, not useless,” she grumbled.

“And how is little Ms. Bateman?” Sam asked, hunching to put her hands on Paisley’s growing belly.

“I’m still voting he’s a Mr. Bateman,” Ember stated with a smile.

Sam scoffed. “No way. I’m telling you this little one is going to skew the scale to the girl side in the Bateman household. Aren’t you?”

Paisley rolled her eyes. “Whatever this baby is, it’s the last in the Bateman household, that’s for sure. Three kids under five will be more than enough.”

“But you make such pretty babies,” I pouted, throwing my arm over her shoulder as Sam stood.

“Speak for yourself, Morgan Montgomery.”

I glanced down at my wedding ring, smiling as it twinkled in the sunlight. It had been over a year, and I still got giddy whenever I heard my new name.

“However many we have, you have to admit, they’re freaking cute,” Ember said with a laugh, pointing toward the beach. “And I don’t just mean the babies.”

My heart melted, and we all headed in their direction.

The guys stood in a line, just far enough that waves came over their feet, all decked out with various sizes of baby carriers.



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