Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“I’ll happily share Lex and anything else you want with you.”
“My life.” I said it kind of off-the-cuff, but I might not get a better opening than that. I’d been debating bringing this up for weeks now, never finding the right moment. Maybe I needed to stop waiting for perfect, or perhaps, more accurately, this was perfect, an average weeknight with good food and the love of my life.
“Of course,” he said automatically. Then frowned and peered deeper into my eyes. He cupped my face in his hands, fingers brushing my beard. “Wait. You’re not simply being poetic, are you?”
“I am never poetic, and you know it.”
“Oh.” He drew the word out, mouth dropping open. “You mean—”
“Share my life, Ambrose. Let’s get married. I don’t want to wait. I’ve been tinkering with the idea of a side jaunt into Reno when we drive up from LA to see my family, make this deal official, but maybe that’s not classy enough for someone like you.”
“Like me.” He made a tsking noise. “As if. Cressida will freak if we don’t give her a wedding to plan. I love it. We can take a tiny honeymoon at your cabin on the way back.”
“Our cabin,” I corrected because it really was. There was no way I could ever visit again without seeing him there, not after all the time we’d spent there in the summer before Atlanta. “And annoying our siblings is a good side benefit, but I’d do the whole two hundred guest shebang for you if that’s what you wanted. I love you, Ambrose.”
“I love that you’re offering, but I love the road trip elopement idea so much.” He bounced slightly on my lap, clearly super into my wacky idea. “We can stay in some cheesy honeymoon suite in Reno, teach Hercules craps and blackjack.”
“He might be better than either of us.” I laughed and lightly tickled Ambrose, who’d much rather read aloud or watch something than play cards. The couple of games we’d attempted had ended with us in bed, cards abandoned, which was fine by me.
“That’s okay.” He kissed me soundly. “I’ve already won everything I could ever want.”
“Me too. I won the damn lottery with you.”
“And you think you’re not a poet.” He gave me a softer kiss, holding me close, so close I could feel his heart hammering right next to mine. “You really are perfect, Harley. Perfect for me. And you’ll make the perfect husband.”
I nodded because I didn’t trust myself to speak. I’d never wanted to make rank so badly in my life. I’d run the damn grinder on the daily if it meant getting to sleep next to Ambrose at night, getting the chance to build a life together. Husband. Me. And not a fake one. A real one. A real spouse in real love, no pretending allowed.