Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
“It’s like you have an endless supply of tears,” I teased.
“It’s the hormones,” she sniffled before placing a hand on her swollen belly. “And the back pain. And the whole waddling like a penguin thing. And have you seen the size of my bump? My grandmother asked me twice if I was sure I wasn’t having twins. My aunt said she wouldn’t be surprised to hear it was triplets.”
I kissed her forehead. “Ignore those people. You look beautiful, even with your eyes all red and puffy.”
Hearing the purr of a car engine, we looked to see Ollie parking at the curb. He exited the vehicle with a smile, but his brow furrowed as he saw his fiancée trying to smother sobs.
He made a beeline for her. “What’s wrong?” he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Did you struggle to zip up your boots again?”
She socked him in the gut, seeming to delight in his oof. “I get no sympathy from you. None.”
He chuckled. “Did you enjoy your baby shower?”
Her glistening eyes lit up. “I did.” She grabbed his hand. “Wait until you see all the gifts for the baby. There are even some for me.”
“Did I get any?” he asked, sliding his arm around her shoulder.
“Nope.”
His brow pinched. “Hey, how’s that fair?”
She offered him a brittle smile. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you carrying our child for nine months?”
He grimaced. “No—”
“Then you get no rewards.”
“Rewards, huh? Okay.” He nodded at me, his mouth curved. “Thanks, Addie. I really appreciate it. And thanks to you, too, Sabrina,” he added as my BFF materialized.
She inclined her head. “You’re very welcome, my dear almost-brother-in-law. But if you let Marleigh do as she threatened and call the baby Winchester—”
“Threatened?” echoed Marleigh, her nose scrunching up.
“—you and me are gonna have a huge fallout.”
Marleigh sighed at her sister. “I didn’t threaten anything. I mentioned that I very much like the name and just might choose it if the baby’s a boy.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Winchester,” Ollie cut in.
Sabrina blinked. “You’d be naming your son after a gun and a haunted building. What on Earth makes you think that would be a good idea?”
How my BFF didn’t see that the couple was fucking with her, I didn’t know. “You’re all ridiculous.” I tugged on Sabrina’s arm. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Fine,” she huffed.
After the hugs and goodbyes were done and dusted, she and I walked toward our respective car.
“Well,” began Sabrina, “I think we did awesome, considering we’ve never thrown a baby shower before.”
I shrugged. “Of course it was a success. We’re good at what we do.”
A glint of pride glowed in her eyes. “This is true.” She paused, nudging me with her elbow. “Just think, we could be throwing a baby shower for you sometime next year.”
That was my hope.
As I drove home, I reflected on how—for the first time in a long while—I had true confidence that my personal goals would be met in the near future. I’d thought I’d been so hopeful with Grayden, but I realized now it wasn’t quite the case.
Back then, in truth, I’d simply wanted so desperately for it all to work out that I’d firmly told myself it would. I’d ignored my doubts, ignored my reservations, ignored the voice in my head that warned he still had feelings for Felicity.
And that was my fuckup.
I had no such reservations when it came to Dax or what lay ahead for us, despite that we didn’t have a conventional marriage. There was no part of me that watched him warily or worried he’d toss aside the promises he made to me. I didn’t feel at all insecure with him—he gave no room for that to happen; reassured me both through words and actions that I had no need to be.
On arriving at the villa, I strolled through the hallway, peeking into rooms as I went by, finding no sign of Dax. I was just about to call his name when I noticed him through one of the kitchen’s floor-to-ceiling windows—he was sitting on one of the comfy loungers near the pool. No, straddling it, his back stiff. And he was fully clothed.
I slid open the patio door and stepped outside. “Hey, what you doing out here?”
Sipping whiskey, he looked at me. And I stopped dead. His expression was sober and shuttered, and his eyes were two wells of sheer weariness.
Goosebumps swept up my arms. “What’s happened?”
A long sigh slid out of him. “Nothing,” he replied, sounding both tired and distracted. “It’s just been one of those days.” He went back to staring at the rippling pool water.
“Dax, don’t blow me off,” I said, my voice firm but gentle. “We don’t do that to each other, remember?”
No response.
I crossed to the lounger beside his and perched my butt on the edge of it. He didn’t even glance my way, just stared straight ahead of him, his gaze unfocused. Even though all I could see was his profile, I didn’t miss how utterly drained he seemed. Not physically drained, but emotionally.