Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
My bare feet tap against the hardwood floor as I head down the hallway, but the closer I get to the kitchen, the more my ears can make out the soft sounds of music.
With only a dim light filling the room, Bennett is holding our almost-two-week-old Autumn against his chest, and a song by Depeche Mode plays from the wireless Bluetooth speaker on the island. She looks so small against his big frame as he sways her back and forth to the beat and quietly sings the lyrics into where his lips rest on the top of her tiny, blond-hair-covered head.
I’ve never taken the time to really listen to the poignant lyrics of this song, “Enjoy the Silence,” but as I hear Bennett’s deep voice caress around them, one tear slips from my lids and down my cheek.
This is all I’ve ever wanted and needed, too.
I think about Bennett’s wild past. I think about what he is capable of and how Thomas looked when he was on the receiving side of his anger. I think about Summer and the precious bond she had with him. And I think about Autumn and me and how safe and protected I feel because of Bennett.
Little girls really do have the power to tame the baddest of men.
The more I watch them, the more I watch Bennett press kisses to the top of Autumn’s sleeping head and the way his big hands tenderly hold her against his chest, the more I feel myself falling in love with him all over again.
I love this man with every fiber of my being, and I swear, that love only grows each day, only roots itself deeper into my soul.
I don’t know how long I silently stand here or how long it takes Bennett to notice me, but when his eyes meet mine, a smile lifts both corners of his mouth.
“Our girl was a little fussy, so I fed her a bottle, but I was hoping you’d stay sleeping,” he whispers toward me.
I walk over to join their little dance, wrapping my arms around his shoulders so that Autumn is carefully hugged between the two of us.
“I love you so much,” I whisper toward him, and he leans forward to press a kiss to my forehead.
“I love you too.”
“I want to marry you.”
He smirks. “Well, that’s good news, because that’s the plan.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I mean, I want to marry you now. As soon as possible.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want to get married in July. In summer.”
His eyes search mine. “Norah, I really love the sentiment, but you just had a baby, sweetheart. Don’t you think we should wait until next July? I’m sure our sweet Summer wouldn’t mind if we wait another year to say ‘I do.’”
“I don’t care,” I answer honestly. Because I don’t. I don’t care that I’ve just had a baby or that my body isn’t anywhere near how it was before I got pregnant. I don’t care about anything besides my future with Bennett and our sweet baby Autumn and keeping the memory of our Summer alive as much as we can. “I want to get married this July. It’s what I want, and I know in my heart it’s what Summer would’ve wanted to.”
“This July?” he questions, and I nod.
“Yes. This July, I want to marry you in our backyard, in the same spot where we watched shooting stars with Summer.”
His smile is soft, and his kiss is even softer as he places one to the top of Autumn’s head before pressing one to the top of my head too. “I want that too.”
Saturday, July 9th
Bennett
Today, with my precious baby Autumn in my arms, I say “I do” during the prime of the hottest season.
My wife-to-be picked this date on a whim of symbolism and the inclusion of our sweet Summer, and to be honest, I can’t think of any better way to do it. Autumn is just over six weeks old, and when it comes to making our family complete, it feels like I’ve been waiting forever.
Clay stretches out on the tan chaise in the corner of my studio, and I bounce up and down and all around to keep my girl happy.
Breezy, Josie, and Lillian are in the house with Norah, getting ready for our backyard wedding. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, she’s got to be laughing at how opposite it is from the aisle she didn’t go down.
“You think Josie’s going to like me in pink?” Clay asks from his reclining position, fiddling with the silk fabric running down the center of his shirt, and I roll my eyes.
“Clay, I swear to God, if you make a scene with that sweet woman today, I’m going to have to kick your ass.”
“You can’t threaten to kick my ass while you’re holding a baby,” he replies through a scoff. “That’s, like, illegal.”