Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“What do the boys think?”
I loved that he asked, that he trusted them and knew how important they were to me. “They’re happy for me. They support me.”
“Do you love him?” Dad’s question was a knife straight through my heart.
A knot formed in my throat. It was hard to speak around it, but I forced myself to. “Yeah, Dad. Of course.” The pain in my chest grew, splintered through me like his question was a pebble and my heart a windshield, now filled with cracks.
I didn’t love Elliott, and I’d wanted that so, so much. But it wasn’t what happened, so I’d have to make it work.
“Then I’m happy for you, son. And I can’t wait to meet him.”
We stood, and Dad hugged me. I felt like the biggest liar in the world.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Elliott
“Do you live in the kitchen?” I asked Parker while packing his apartment. I’d put off lunch with my parents, telling them I wanted to give Parker a little more time, that he was nervous they wouldn’t like him after how the wedding had gone down. It was true—he wasn’t looking forward to meeting them—but I also just wanted to buy us some time. This was the craziest thing I’d ever done, and I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. If it felt like this to me, I couldn’t imagine how it felt to Parker, someone who’d dreamed about getting married to a man he loved.
“I’m a baker.”
“And they live in their kitchens?”
“Why are you asking me if I live here?” He huffed, annoyed. He was like that with me often. That probably shouldn’t be fun, but for some reason, it was.
“Because you literally haven’t grabbed any toiletries, clothes, or anything like that. Every single thing we’re boxing up is from your kitchen.”
We’d gotten back from Vegas yesterday. We’d both worked earlier today. It was now evening, and we’d decided there was no reason to stall. Well, Parker had decided, which surprised me, but I was easy and went with the flow.
“I’ll take my clothes.”
“I mean, I don’t care if you’re naked.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you don’t.”
“Hey, all you have to do is exchange the n in naked with a b, and you have baked.”
“But I’m a baker…not baked.”
“Well, we can get naker if you’d rather.”
His dark brows drew together. “Naker? You’re so weird.”
I shrugged. “I thought it was kinda cool.”
We were both quiet for a moment, but I didn’t do too well with keeping my mouth shut. “Is it a comfort for you?” I asked while taping up a box. “Having this stuff with you?” He gave me this adorable half-frown, half-pout look. I laughed. “Oh my God, it is, and you’re annoyed I figured that out.”
“Am not.”
“It’s okay, husband. I pay attention. Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing? Shit, I’m killing this already.”
“We’re almost done in here,” he said, clearly ignoring that. “I’ll grab clothes and bathroom stuff. That should be enough for now.”
I followed Parker to his bedroom and…holy fuck. Had a tornado gone through here? There were clothes everywhere. I was a little shocked, and trying not to comment on it. This was one of those moments when a husband should keep his thoughts to himself. “Does your dad want to meet me?”
“Yes, but we’re going to put that off as long as possible.”
His response stung. Sure, I was putting off him meeting my parents as well, but it wasn’t because I didn’t think Parker was good enough for me, and I had a feeling he felt that way about me. “I’m not going to embarrass you in front of your dad.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorjamb.
“I didn’t say that.” He began placing clothes into a suitcase. Evidently, he understood the mess that was his bedroom, even if I didn’t. “I’ll take enough for a few days and then come back for the rest. I’m going to miss my apartment.”
My chest got tight. “We can move in here if you really want. I don’t want to take your home away from you.” This whole thing was already going to be tougher on Parker than it was on me, and I couldn’t help feeling responsible for it all. I shouldn’t have done any of this. I should have come to my senses. What if I’d married him because a part of me just really wanted to fuck him? I didn’t think that was the case, but I wondered about things like that.
His face scrunched up, something I’d noticed he did when I surprised him. It was cute. I wanted to kiss the tip of his nose, but I figured he might punch me.
“You would do that?”
“Yes. I’m a nice guy.”
“You are?” The playfulness in his voice enticed a laugh out of me.
“Always breaking my heart, beautiful.”