Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
“We need to nail the ending. The story’s too good to botch it up with something lackluster.”
“I don’t think there’s anything lackluster about us.” I rest my hands on his when he squeezes my legs.
“Of course, you don’t. But readers need more,” he says.
“We are the only readers. This story won’t end until we’re dead.”
“Baby, we can’t die at the end. Romance readers are too fickle. They need their HEA.”
Since Eric binge-read a slew of romance novels to win me over, he’s acted like the foremost expert on the topic.
“Fine.” I sigh. It’s not worth the fight. I know this book will never leave our hands. “In the book, you can say we publish said book. Our imaginary readers will love it. But let’s be honest. Readers have a weak spot for a sappy proposal and an epilogue filled with babies. So maybe you should throw that in there.”
“Ya think?” he says.
“I know. They like the whole shebang.”
“Then let’s do it. Let’s get married and have babies. I like that ending the best. I’ve been patiently waiting for you to suggest it.”
“Whatever.” I giggle, elbowing him. “If you want to write that ending, go for it.”
“So that’s a yes?” he asks.
“Sure.”
“Anna. I need more than a sure. Is that a yes or no?”
“It’s just a book.”
He gasps. “Just. A. Book? Don’t let my girlfriend hear you say those words. She thinks books are life. Books have souls.”
“Stop throwing my words back at me. If you want an official ending, just make something up.”
“It’s not fiction, Anna. I can’t make it up. It has to be our real life.”
“It’s a great ending. You flying to Spain and showing up at my door the same day I was typing my resignation letter and getting ready to pack my suitcase. It doesn’t get any better than that.”
Eric slides open the desk drawer to our right and fishes something out of the back. “What if it does get better?” He sets a ring box on the desk in front of me.
Everything inside of me tingles with emotion.
“What about the whole shebang?” he whispers in my ear, opening the box.
It’s a rectangular emerald ring.
He removes it from the box and angles it so I see the inside of the band and the inscription. “This is the ring my grandfather gave my grandmother when she published her first poem. My mom thought I should give it to my wife someday.”
Once upon a time …
“Anna, let’s end the book with the beginning of our forever.”
“Eric …” I scoot to the side to see his face.
“Will you do me the honor of being Mrs. Eric Fucking Steinmann?” Of course, he proposes in a way that makes me laugh. I think it’s his only goal in life.
Do I want to spend the rest of my life with a man who’s made my happiness his full-time job and his favorite hobby all wrapped into one?
I bite my lips together. “Hmm … this is so un-Eric of you.”
He squints for a second before realization alights his face. In one swift move, he lifts me to my feet and drops to one knee, honoring his chivalrous reputation. “What’s your one-word impression of my proposal?” Eric slides the ring onto my finger and glances up with a knowing grin.
“Predictable.”
“Anna,” he frowns.
“Sophomoric?”
He shakes his head, rejecting my word.
“Yes,” I whisper.
Eric gets the girl. Anna gets a lifetime of mating dances. On their wedding day, he gives her the only copy of their love story. It’s a beautiful clothbound book titled Almost Perfect.
Dedication
To my beautiful wife,
you look pretty today
THE END