Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
“Are you going to have Mario guard me?” she asks as I pour her water, a certain edge of sarcasm in her tone.
“No.” I throw John a filthy look when the miserable bastard laughs. “There’s no need now, is there?”
“I suppose not. Where is everyone?”
“We close during the day on anniversary night. There’s a lot to get ready.” I return her hands to her lap and drop a kiss on her forehead. “John?” Let’s get this over with. Whatever this is.
“Ready when you are.” The sarcasm in this place today, though?
I curl my lip at John and give Ava a little more fuss, just . . . because. “I’ll be as quick as I can. Are you sure you’re okay here?” Please say no. Please insist I stay.
But she doesn’t. Instead, she pushes me off and faces the bar. Just like that. “I’m fine.”
“Clearly,” I mutter, reluctantly following John out of the bar, looking back, seeing she’s already engrossed in Mario’s bar skills.
The moment I’m in the foyer, John swings around, and I back up, cautious. He’s removed his glasses, a telltale sign that I’m in for it. “What the fuck are you playing at?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “What the fuck am I playing at?”
“You’re going to ask her to marry you?”
“Oh.” I reach up and scratch my head, looking around us, checking for listening ears. And then I wonder— “Wait, how the fuck do you know that?” I step back, getting the whole of his robust frame in my sights, as well as moving out of the reach of his boulder fist. “I’ve not told you.”
“You don’t need to when you’re spending one hundred grand in Harrods, you stupid motherfucker.” He turns and stomps away, and I chase his heels.
“I could have been buying anything. A car, a holiday, a—”
John stops abruptly and flies around, making me back up again. “Were you?”
“Was I what?”
“Buying a holiday, a car?”
No, I was buying a life. I stuff my hands in my pockets. “No,” I admit. “I was buying a ring.” Just putting it out there. Removing any room for misunderstanding.
I’m a dick.
“And the person whom you’re giving this ring to,” he says, his voice low. “When she agrees to marry you, it’s because she knows you inside out, right? She’ll say yes because your relationship is full of honesty and trust and faithfulness.”
Well, that’s pissed all over my Cornflakes, hasn’t it? “I . . . it’s . . .” I stall, chewing my lip while chewing over my approach. “I will . . .” I take a few breaths. “It’s going to . . .” I scowl. “Oh, do fuck off.” I barge past him. “She loves me.”
He laughs, and it’s torturous, following me through The Manor. “She doesn’t fucking know you.”
“She knows I love her. Immeasurably.”
“Yes, but for a marriage to work, stupid boy, it’s kind of essential for each party to know the person they’re supposedly loving, or it’s technically fucking fraud.”
I’m so fucking bored of this conversation. “Fuck off, John, I’m handling this my way.”
I’m suddenly not moving forward anymore, courtesy of John’s massive bolder fists grabbing my T-shirt and hauling me back. I hit a wall, and he’s up in my face, rampant with anger, and I’m wary of it. Jesus fucking Christ. “Your way is really stupid, Jesse. You have got to see that.”
“I don’t see anything but her, John.” I look away, ashamed, guilty, fraught. But I know he’s right. With everything I have, I know he’s right.
“Think this through.”
“Don’t you think I have?”
“No, you couldn’t have.” His hold of my T-shirt loosens, and he sighs, brushing his palms down the creases he’s made in the material. Then he pinches the bridge of his nose on a deep breath before dipping and picking up his shades and sliding them back on. “You think getting a ring on her finger will completely eradicate the risk of her ever leaving when she finds out your truths?”
“No, but when she accepts, I’ll know she loves me enough to want to spend her life with me. Have everything with me. Forever.”
“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, turning and pacing. “Why don’t you just get her pregnant while you’re at it?”
I drop my eyes to the carpet at my feet, shame and guilt flaring.
“And do you think we could go just one day”—he holds up one fat finger—“without you upsetting Sarah?”
“Are we done?” I ask.
“Yeah, we’re fucking done.” He throws an arm up and snorts, storming off. “The security people will be here within the hour.”
“What? So I needn’t have come after all?”
“Yes, you fucking needed to come,” he yells.
Right. “So you could try and talk me out of asking Ava to marry me?” Doesn’t anyone around here want me to be happy?
“No, Jesse, so I could try and talk you into being honest with her.” He disappears around a corner, and I clench my head in my hands, growling.