Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 667(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 667(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“It’s that quote that your father—”
“Repeated often,” I say, the quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson, one that my father spoke often when I was growing into the man I am today. “I know,” I say, emotion welling in my chest. “Of course, I know.” I set it aside and pull her to me, holding this woman that is everything to me, as close as I can. “It’s about as perfect a gift as anyone has ever given me but you, you are the best gift of all.”
I blink back to the present and pull the car into the driveway of the church where I was baptized. The church where my parents were married and where I said goodbye to them both. The church Mia and I were to be married in the first time we were engaged.
Chapter fifty-two
Mia
There are no words to describe how I feel when I realize where Grayson has taken us. It’s special. It’s a part of his family, our family.
“This is where we were supposed to get married,” I say, remembering the day we’d come here to reserve the church and well aware of how much this location means to him. “It’s a special place.”
“It is indeed,” he says, handing me my coat from the backseat. “You might need that. Hang tight and I’ll come around and help you.”
He grabs his own as well, a soft, sleek leather jacket that’s as expensive and fine as the man himself.
Following his lead, I quickly set my purse in the backseat and reach for the door. By the time I’m stepping into the wind of a cold front blowing in, Grayson is opening my door and helping me out. The touch of his hand is firm and warmth slides up my arm, the crackle between us so much more than attraction and sex. The wind gushes again and unbidden, I shiver. Grayson, the gentleman that he always is, steps behind me, and I pop my arms inside. It’s an expensive double-breasted black coat that fits a bit like a dress. I button up and tie the waist, remembering the day he’d given it to me: New Year’s Eve. Only a few days after he’d given me my purse. I felt out of my league and confused. Taking the gifts went against my very core instinct. I’d feared, and on some level, I still do, that Grayson would think I could see only his money. I’d feared that he hid behind his money.
I slip back into the past, into that moment in time.
Grayson ties my belt for me and when he looks at me, the swell of emotion between us steals my breath. “Grayson,” I whisper. “It’s Chanel. It’s extravagant.”
“It matches your purse,” he points out.
“I don’t need gifts. I need the man beneath the money.”
“It’s from me to you. A gift for the woman who warms my heart. You’re beautiful, inside and out.” And when he says those words, his voice vibrates with so much love that I know that no matter which way my world spins, it will always stop right here with this man.
Grayson shuts my car door, jolting me back into the moment, and then steps to my side, his hand settling possessively on my lower back. We stare at the church, white with wooden shingles and a steeple, like something out of a country romance novel. His parents’ perfect romance novel.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” I say, stepping in front of him, wrapping my arms around his neck and letting him know how much I mean what I’m saying. “This is where your parents got married. This was where we planned to get married. We have to get married here, not at the lighthouse.”
His hands settle on my waist. “We should get married at our place. We should make our future our own. I brought you here because I had something made for you before we broke up and this is the place I intended to give it to you.”
“On our wedding day?”
“Yes. On our wedding day.”
“Then give it to me on our new wedding day.”
“I want you to have it now. You’ll understand why once you see it.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a velvet bag. “Open it.”
My emotions are all over the place right now, jumping around, pummeling my belly and my chest. This gift was something he picked for me before I left him. It hurts to know that I changed our history. My hands all but tremble as I open the bag and pull out a delicate chain. I hold it up and suck in a breath with the sight of a delicate charm at the end of it that looks exactly like the church. “Oh my God, Grayson.”
“Turn it over,” he orders softly, his voice radiating with his own emotions.