Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 151304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 605(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 605(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
Mildly annoyed, I turned to him and said, “Listen here, buddy. This is important. We need to do this.” And just because I could, I rolled my eyes and repeated what he said to me only minutes before. “We can play schoolyard sexy-time when we’re off the clock.” A slow smile stretched his lips, and my stomach flip-flopped at how beautiful it was. I couldn’t deal. Taking my hands, I put them to either side of his face and forcefully turned his head, making him watch the screen. “Focus.”
He did, but he did it grinning. And when his arm came around my shoulders, I settled in beside him, resting my head on his.
Soft words from a hardened man.
“I love you.”
It socked me in the gut each time I heard it out loud.
My eyes burned. The bridge of my nose tingled. And when I put my hand to his chest, right over his heart, and nestled into his side, he turned his head and pressed his lips to my temple in an open display of reverence.
Contentment pulsed through me outwardly, like a beating heart.
It was a strange feeling to live in the knowledge that I had the kind of love I always craved. The easy, comfortable kind where kisses were frequent and there was no shame in adoring the other half of yourself. The kind where laughter was plentiful and arguments ended in intense lovemaking. Where we craved each other on a level that bordered manic.
We weren’t perfect, and that was okay.
Perfect, I found, was synonymous with boring.
My family was small and fractured, but broken things could always be fixed.
Yes, the fissures would always be visible, but when the right person loved you enough to shift your focus, you quickly realized that those cracks formed patterns and arrangements that were really quite pretty if you looked hard enough.
Life was good.
No. It was great.
I didn’t think it could get better than this but would gladly be proved wrong, again and again and again, over the course of our hectic lives.
39
Nastasia
Vik was pacing. It should have annoyed me. It normally did annoy me. Today, however, I gave him a pass.
From the way he was muttering to himself, snapping his eyes closed, then opening them only to lose focus, anyone could see he was stressed out.
All the time and preparation. Months of planning. Days filled with anxiety, normally ending with sleepless nights. Thousands of ideas. Hundreds of hours of research.
The pressure was on. It all came down to this.
Maybe we were a little hasty. I blamed myself for that, and if I were completely honest, it made me sick when the gravity hit on what we had done.
Had Vik hesitated?
Yeah.
Did I then rant for a solid hour about him not believing in himself and his brand?
I sure did.
Had I pumped him up enough to buy a building that needed quite a lot of work, instantly regretting all the hype I shot at him?
Uh huh.
One hundred percent.
To lay it down, we put almost everything we had into a spectacular property. It was simply too good to pass up. And because of that, we kind of, sort of, did not have money for just about anything else. Which was why I was watching from the top of the stairs with a gentle hand on my basketball-sized belly as Vik paced in our foyer.
When the front door suddenly opened and Mina rushed inside holding a large square of cardboard in her hands, Vik rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ, wifey. You really cut it down to the wire.”
Mina, knowing exactly why Vik was being more abrupt than usual, offered him a kind smile and said, “Look at you, wearing a suit and looking all professional and stuff. You look handsome.” She dragged in what she was holding and let out a strained, “And for your information, you can’t rush perfection.”
Vik was not impressed. “Perfection, huh?”
I began to walk down the stairs just as Mina shot him a look that said he was being ungrateful. Her hand came to her hip, and she jerked her chin toward the mock-up. With unbridled confidence, she uttered a cool, “See for yourself.”
When Vik simply stared at it and did not move, Mina clicked her tongue and waltzed over to the huge square, now leaning against the wall. Without preamble, she removed the protective sheet of cardstock and stepped away, revealing the poster for what would be our business.
From behind the two of them, my light gasp had Mina turning back to face me, but I just couldn’t take my eyes off the piece of art she created.
Mina was right.
“It’s perfect,” I said in complete awe of this woman who had come so far. I moved in closer to Vik. “Utterly flawless.”
But Mina said nothing. It wasn’t my praise she was after.
Vik stared at the poster. He stared at it a long while. And from beside me, I could almost feel Mina holding her breath.