Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Natalie ducked back behind the tent to laugh, getting it out of her system as quickly as possible, before schooling her features. When she heard August exchange a hello with Hallie, she stepped out into the open.
August spotted her, jerked back, and held the cat up in front of his face. “Jesus Christ, Natalie. I’m not supposed to see you.”
She implored the sky for patience. “You’re not supposed to see me in the dress, August.”
Still he didn’t lower the cat. “That’s not the dress?”
“It’s a robe.”
“Ahhh.” Finally, the cat was back against his chest. “Whatever it is, you look hot in it.”
Natalie shook her head at him. Too bad so many locals were within earshot, setting up tables inside the tent, caterers arranging champagne flutes and place settings. “You look very nice in your tuxedo, as well.”
The lie detector test determines . . . that is not a lie.
August Cates was fine. Rugged. Totally at ease with his enormous body and thick muscles, which were accentuated to perfection in the starched black jacket and pants. She could tell he’d shaved, but growth was already apparent on his cut jaw and upper lip, somehow making the bow tie look softer. Like it could be whipped off at any moment. He’d tried to tame his hair, but the wind in his truck must have gotten hold of it, because some pieces were refusing to stay in line. Honestly, though, who cared about hair when his shoulders could seat a party of four?
He sauntered closer, his right hand stroking the cat’s back absently. “Yeah, I can see you like me in a tux, princess.”
She smirked at him, hoping the heat in her cheeks wasn’t turning them red. “Nice of you to show up.”
“Aw,” he drawled. “Were you getting worried?”
“That you slipped in a puddle of your own caveman drool and hit your head? Yes. I was.”
His smile showed off a row of strong, white teeth. “Were you able to get a dress made of Dalmatian fur on short notice?”
“Had one in my closet already, as a matter of fact. I just had to find a good man.” The corners of her mouth lifted. “And by good, I mean standing upright, with a pulse.”
“Gosh, Natalie. You sure know how to make an Adonis feel special.”
“It is our wedding day, after all.” Now that she’d made sure they were on even footing, in that safe bickering space where they tended to live, Natalie was comfortable enough to draw an object from her robe pocket and hold it out to him. “You mentioned wedding gifts and I just picked up a small thing. It’s really just a very small thing. Like you said, this was short notice and . . .” Stop rambling. “I found your Facebook profile, which you haven’t posted anything on in like, seven years, but there was a picture of Sam, and . . .”
She couldn’t seem to stop moving as he turned the laminated picture over in his hand, reading the words that were printed there. Then back. Right side up again. He said nothing, just looked down at the small card with his brow puckered.
“This is the U.S. Navy hymn,” he said quietly, finally looking up at her.
“Yes.” She tucked a strand of loose hair back into her low chignon. “I had to google it obviously. I don’t just know hymns off the top of my head.”
“Natalie . . .”
“Sam can’t be here, but you can put that in your pocket and . . . I don’t know. Maybe it’ll feel a tiny bit like he is. Like I said, it’s just a small thing—”
He moved quickly, his firm mouth pressing to hers and cutting her off mid-sentence, staying there for a long moment while neither one of them seemed to breathe. “No, it’s not,” he said, releasing her lips, but staying close. So close she’d tilted her head all the way back to receive the kiss. “This isn’t small, princess.”
She couldn’t think of an adequate response to that and talking at all seemed like it might be difficult, so she just nodded, the pressure on her chest increasing the longer he held her eyes, searching them.
“Your present is back at the house,” he said, carefully tucking the picture into his breast pocket.
“Great.” She had to swallow because her throat was utterly dry. “I can’t wait to open my lube from the gas station. Which flavor did you get me?”
“Tropical. Obviously.”
“Pity we’ll never use it.”
“I know, right?” He let his gaze trail down her body to the knot of her robe. “You don’t need any help in that department. Not when you’ve got me to look at.”
“That’s beautiful. If only we’d decided to write our own wedding vows, you could have included it.”
“Who says I didn’t write my own?”
That gave her serious pause. Was he joking? “Did you?”