Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Fucking pictures.
It’s always how they get ya!
Feeling fruit pieces smushed between my toes gets me giggling and wiggling, which makes my boyfriend simply laugh around his much more positive team cheering. “We got this, beautiful.”
“Do we?” More hard stamps are executed. “You may have it! I think I’ve squished like four grapes.”
“Hot yoga this week did not prepare us for this shit!” Nat yells from her barrel.
“Shouldn’t have had that pint before we came,” Ronan complains loudly, attention pinned downward on the mess they’re making.
“La carne de burro no es transparente!” Matias shouts to someone in his area. “Fucking move over!”
I cut Tate a curious glance. “Did he call someone a donkey?”
“Yeah.” More chuckles escape my boyfriend as his fingers flex for more leverage. “Said he can’t see through them.”
“Ya comenzó,” Rosa playfully grouses about her nephew making trouble. “You are so your mother’s child. She was always a pain in the ass to work with, too.”
“We’re crushin’ it,” Big T declares while holding her girlfriend’s tiny waist.
“That’s because you’re pretending these are the nuts of all my ex-fuckboys,” Gabby impishly mocks her partner.
“And?” Big T counters in such a way it causes those of us
listening to laugh.
“For some reason that idea alone just makes my bollocks hurt,” Geoffrey proclaims on a dramatic shudder.
“Coño!” Laz yells to someone in his circle. “How are you fucking up this bad, Felipe?! It’s just stomping!”
“Jódete,” Felipe replies in an annoyed huff.
“No, you fuck off,” Laz fights back, still laughing. “I knew I should’ve just got my own bowl.”
“Barrell,” I politely correct while trying to channel my inner boyband dance moves to get my knees up higher.
“Remember that time Auntie Marie smacked Felipe so hard upside the back of the head for eating out of the wrong bowl that she thought he was going to have to repeat the 3rd grade?” Tate recalls on a harder crush, grape juice squirting all the way up to my ankle. “Wait, did you repeat the 3rd grade?”
“Jódete,” he shouts around his aunt and uncle over to Tate.
Watching the dark mixture struggle between deciding on whether it wants to be a liquid or a solid prompts me to loudly pout, “Are we making wine or jam?”
“Great,” huffs Big T unexpectedly, “now I want fucking peanut butter.”
“Time’s almost up!” calls out the smaller, daintier female host.
My face peers up to meet Tate’s stare. “I don’t even think we’ve made enough for one glass, babe.”
“Still more than enough to get Carlota drunk,” Ronan points out on a childish chuckle.
“Thank fuck I did not inherit that bullshit from my ma,” Laz adds on a loud laugh.
More trash talking continues swirling around the space keeping everyone laughing and relaxed and the mood fun but lowkey.
Big T and Gabby end up the victors, winning a tacky gold crown and a bottle of the house red that they think is a free prize, however, was pre-priced into the package.
No need to tell them that.
This whole thing was about getting together with as many people as Tate holds dear as possible.
Family is so important to him and lately…around his schedule, trying to start a business, and our active love life, I’m not sure he’s gotten enough of it, which is why I thought arranging this get together for a belated anniversary gift would be a good idea.
Taking into account the way everyone is still smiling and laughing pre-alcohol, I’d say it’s a win.
Maybe for our one year though we do something a little more solo like a fly-fishing trip in Wyoming.
I think balancing between social and just couple is a good idea for our future.
Buckets of soap and warm water are provided for foot scrubbing at the nearby picnic tables for cleansing before the eating portion of the day, and we all settle in together to remove as much of the gunk as possible at the same time one of the hosts begins pouring glasses of wine.
“Just water for me, please,” I politely decline when she offers.
“You know you can have one glass and drive,” Nat states from the opposite side of the table. “You’re not a lightweight anymore.”
“You added the anymore because she was prior to you in her life I presume?” Geoffrey investigates on a humored chortle.
“You presume correctly,” she laughs off on a sip of wine.
“My stomach’s been a little off all day.” The confession immediately causes Tate to stiffen. “Rather not play that roulette game.”
“Gracias,” his cousins call out in unison.
Tate uses his palm to lovingly cup my face, gaze scanning my complexion for details. “Como te sientes?”
“Not bad, babe,” I warmly reassure the Spanish asked question. “Just don’t wanna risk it.” Concern remains until I slightly turn my head to press a comforting kiss on the palm of his hand. “Promise.”
He nods, sweetly smiles, and softly instructs, “Dame tus píes, bella.” The waving of his hand for me to lift my feet upward is attached to an overdramatic sigh. “It’s the least I can do for losing us the bottle.”