Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
I’m a thirty-five-year-old woman who dissects dead bodies. I’m marrying the love of my life despite not caring about marriage. I don’t want kids of my own. Oh … and I was a serial killer in a past life. Just the kind of person a mother would want to be a big part of her daughter’s life.
Colten struts his way to the front door of the white with red brick two-story while I lag three steps behind him.
When he reaches the steps to the stoop, he glances back at me and holds out his hand. “Come here.”
I take it and drag my feet up the stairs.
“Is she hot?” I ask before he knocks on the door.
“What?” He gives me a funny look.
I shrug. “You always went for the hottest girls in school. I’m just curious if you continued that trend.”
It takes him a second to speak or even blink. “You’re right.” He smirks. “I went for you, Josie, and you were by far the hottest girl in school.”
I scoff. “I was not. And you know what I’m talking about. We were never officially anything.”
“You’re right again.” He squeezes my hand while his other hand knocks on the storm door. “We were everything.”
The door opens.
Yep. Katy is a hottie.
“Hey! Reagan is finishing her snack. Come in.” Katy smiles at me; then her gaze goes to my hand in Colten’s.
“Katy, this is Josie Watts. Josie, this is Katy.”
“Nice to meet you.” Katy smiles. I think it’s genuine, but I’ve always struggled to read hot girls correctly.
“You as well,” I say.
“What time does your mom’s flight get in?” Katy asks Colten.
“In an hour.”
“Well, I haven’t told Reagan since you said it’s a surprise. Is she coming for anything special or just a visit?”
“Josie’s mom is coming tomorrow, and the four of them are going to go wedding dress shopping.”
Katy’s eyes widen. “Oh … is your mom getting remarried?”
Colten chuckles. “No.”
Katy’s attention shifts to me.
“January seventh.” I grin, and I fear it looks as goofy as it feels. “Mark your calendar.” Well, shit. Did I just invite Colten’s baby mama to our wedding?
“Wow! Congratulations.” Katy shakes her head at Colten. “Never thought I’d live to see the day.”
Me neither.
“Reagan?” Colten calls her name. His thumb rubs my finger, a little fidgety and anxious to get out of here.
“Daddy!” She tears around the corner and flies into his arms, forcing him to release my hand.
“What’s this?” He kisses her cheek, and she squeals when he licks something from the corner of her mouth. “Mmm … strawberries.” He sets her down. “Grab your bag. We have to get going. I have a surprise for you.”
Katy eyes me again after Reagan runs upstairs. Was I supposed to give Reagan a big hug and exuberant greeting as well? I didn’t even say hi. What’s wrong with me? I helped watch Benji. I even changed a few diapers. I should have a few motherly instincts or nurturing tendencies embedded in me somewhere.
“Is this your first marriage,” Katy asks.
“Yes.”
“Kids?”
I shake my head and offer a stiff grin.
“Oh, well, I guess it’s a race to see who gives Reagan a sibling first,” she says.
Colten laughs. It’s a nervous laugh, and his equally nervous thumb is about to wear through the skin on my finger.
“You’ll win. We’re never having kids,” I say with confidence.
“Oh.” Katy looks at Colten for confirmation.
No confirmation needed. There is a zero percent chance of us having kids.
“Well…” Colten shoots me a sidelong glance “…never is a long time. Anything could happen.”
Nope. Not anything.
“Ready!” Reagan barrels down the stairs, dragging her duffel bag behind her.
Colten takes the bag and Reagan’s hand. “See you Wednesday.”
“Bye.” Katy leans down and kisses Reagan’s head. “Love you, sweetie.”
Reagan talks our ears off on the way to the airport.
“See the plane?” Colten points to the sky as we exit toward the terminal.
“Are we going in an airplane?” she asks, bursting with excitement.
I hope Becca can live up to the high expectation of a trip on a plane.
“No, Button. It’s something else.”
We park and head toward the gate. By the time we get there, Becca’s coming down the elevator.
“Grandma!” Reagan races toward her.
Apparently, Grandma is better than airplanes.
Colten steps behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, kissing my head. While Reagan has Becca preoccupied fifteen feet away from us, I turn in his arms because I have to get this off of my chest.
“I had a tubal ligation before I started med school. No babies.”
He frowns. “You had your tubes tied?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want children.”
He shakes his head slowly. “But how could you know for certain at such a young age?”
“Colten, I’ve known this for as long as I can recall. I told you this when we were kids.”
“But that’s just it; we were kids.”
“And now I’m in my mid-thirties, and I still don’t want kids.”