Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
She looks skeptical. “If that’s the case, then why ask me to marry you at all?”
“Because it’s romantic and fun and I’d love to be your husband. So, why not? I’m just saying it’s not a deal-breaker for me. I’m not going anywhere, no matter what we call our relationship.”
Selena touches the top of my hand. “You’re such a darling romantic.”
My heart flutters. “So, do we have a deal? We’ll do things your way and take things slow for the next year or so, except for once a month when I’ll swing for the fences and ask you to marry me—and you won’t freak out when I do that, because you’ll know there’s no pressure and it’s all in good fun. All part of my master plan of wearing you down. Except, of course, that I’ll be totally serious, each and every time I ask you, so you’re always welcome to give me a ‘yes’ any ol’ time you’re feeling it—but a heads-up would be appreciated.”
She takes a deep breath and exhales. “We’ve got a deal, except that I need you to promise you’ll stop asking me, if it’s no longer fun for you.”
“Deal.” I rise, revealing the erection that’s poking out from behind the fabric of my apron. “Now, come here, goddess. Let me seal this deal by giving you a squirting orgasm all over your kitchen table.”
18
GRAYSON
“You Can’t Hurry Love.”
That’s the song blaring in Selena’s kitchen—yet another hit from the “60’s Hits” playlist Selena put on for her father’s birthday dinner.
Selena is standing at her stove, stirring something in a pan. I’m mincing garlic to her left at the kitchen counter. Her father and Drew are playing Scrabble behind us at a table.
As the simple, happy song blares, Selena is dancing in place at the stove. I stop working on the garlic to watch her. Is this playlist one of those ready-made ones offered by the streaming platform, or did Selena personally select tonight’s tunes? If it’s the latter scenario, then I wouldn’t be surprised if Selena specifically chose this song as a coded message to me. At this point, I’ve lost track of how many times she’s answered one of my marriage proposals with “Patience, Grayson-hopper.” Surely, it’s not paranoia to think she might have chosen this song to reinforce the usual messaging.
As I’m watching Selena bopping along to the music at the stove, she turns to look at me. When our eyes meet, she begins pointedly singing along to the song’s chorus, like she’s intentionally serenading me with those specific lyrics. Well, that settles it. Whether she selected this song or not, she’s now using it to remind me about the fine art of patience.
True to my word, I’ve kept my monthly proposals fun and casual these past nine months, and Selena’s always made it clear she’s not the least bit annoyed or freaked out. In fact, thanks to the white-hot sex that always follows one of my monthly proposals, there’s not a doubt in my mind Selena genuinely gets off on being asked.
But lately, I can’t deny I’m beginning to look for that heads-up she promised to give me, if she ever started to feel ready to say yes. I didn’t bother looking for one during the first six months of our little arrangement. Each time I asked, I knew she’d turn me down. But for the last few months, I’ve started to feel a shift in Selena. A readiness to take things to the next level. So now, I must admit I’m not only on the constant look-out for that heads-up from her, I’m yearning for it.
I can’t fathom why Selena wouldn’t feel ready to say yes to me at this point. First of all, she gets along fantastically well with my mother. I thought it would be weird between the two women, since my mother is only seven years older than Selena. But no. They clicked from the start. Also, Drew and I have become extremely close. So much so, Drew often invites me over, even when his mother is off at a client dinner or something. As a result, Selena started letting me spend the night here months ago, even on nights when Drew is home. And I’ve been a fixture at weekly family dinners with Selena’s father, whom I call Pops, for several months now.
Speaking of Pops, he suddenly blurts “Ha!” behind me, so I turn around to see what’s up. Based on body language, it’s apparent he’s made a great play in his game of Scrabble with Drew, so I ask him what word he laid down, and off he goes excitedly explaining his prowess to me.
Midway through his explanation, however, the song blaring through Selena’s kitchen switches to a new one that quickly commands my full attention. I turn back around to look at Selena at the stove to my right—and quickly realize this song is most definitely an intentional, coded message to me. In fact, hallelujah, I think it could be the smoke signal I’ve been waiting for!