Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 59489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
The other guys were no help either. They were all inside, doing their bit of mixology that always just ended up with half of us drinking straight whiskey or beer and the other half having one Manhattan after the other.
“I just don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head and taking a swig of his beer. “If it were me and Mal, we’d like never come out of the office.”
“Therein lies the problem, Graham,” I said, flipping a steak over to make sure it was exactly where I wanted it and then removing it from the heat to rest. “Some of us like to actually get things done.”
“I get plenty done,” he said, leaning back in his chair and grinning.
“Sure, sure,” I said. “And all that free time you were just bragging about a few minutes ago. Care to spend any of that out here with the horses?”
“Gee, Camden, I would, but my arm…”
We both laughed, loudly enough that Ryan poked his head outside, sitting the big martini glass on the table by the window like I couldn’t see it.
“What’s all the commotion out here?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Just ripping on him for not acting like a normal human being and banging boots in his professor’s office,” Graham said.
“Hey, look,” Ryan said, “I promised him we wouldn’t go in on him about that sort of stuff.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“He’s got enough to deal with being the teacher’s pet. Or is it the petting teacher?”
“Damn.”
“Oh, that was good,” Graham said, slapping his knee and cackling. “Ryan for the kill.”
“Very funny. Ha, ha,” I said. “Steaks are done.”
“Thank the Lord,” Ryan said. “Between the steaks and the pies in the kitchen, I was surrounded by delicious food I couldn’t eat. I was damn near ready to start chewing on my boot.”
The rest of the night went swimmingly, and the guys cooled it on the teasing when the two of us were in the same room together. At least they had respect enough not to make her feel uncomfortable. From what I understood of her conversations with the girls, though, the questions were certainly asked, just in a more gossipy way.
“Your friends are a very… open group of people, when it comes to information about partners,” she said as we got ready for bed.
“Yeah,” I said, “it comes with being with us guys. We are all really comfortable telling each other everything. All of us have keys to each other’s places, we’ve seen each other at our sickest or drunkest or saddest. There’s nothing off limits with these guys, and I get the feeling the girls want the same kind of bond.”
“Well, they are all very sweet,” she said. “I don’t mind talking to them about personal stuff. It just might be a little soon for some of it.”
“Well, we have time,” I said. “I don’t know about you, but I am exhausted.”
“So am I,” she sighed, climbing into the bed to join me. “Good night.”
“Good night,” I said, kissing her lightly and then curling up around her.
As she slowly drifted off to sleep in my arms, my mind wandered.
I was falling in love with this woman. Not just falling, had fallen. I was getting into the deep waters now. Things had gone as well as I possibly could have asked for with everyone there, and now that I knew she fit in with my friends and their partners, it only made it more important that we start figuring out what the next steps would be.
I kept letting my mind drift as I started planning a special night for us together. It might take a couple of weeks to put together, but it would be worth it. I wanted to talk about our future in a way that would give her every indication of what I wanted first without me having to say the words.
Drifting off to sleep myself, I let myself dream of those plans. As they came together in the misty haze of sleep, I smiled.
10
KRISTEN
"Can you believe it? I haven't even been married for a third of a year yet… Kristen? Are you listening?"
I snapped out of the thoughts I'd drifted away into and looked at Brianne. I blinked at her a couple of times, trying to get myself back into the conversation we were having. It hadn't fully sunken in, but I managed to grab the mention of the length of time.
"Third of a year?" I asked, confused. "You mean four months?"
"Yes," she said. "I haven't even been married for four months."
"Then why didn't you just say four months?" I asked.
"Because people talk about a decade, half a decade, a year, half a year, it's a … never mind. It doesn't matter. What I was saying is I'm still a new newlywed. Not even just a newlywed. Like a brand-newlywed. And his mother is already shaming us for not naming our children the traditional names in her family. Children we don't have yet, by the way," she said.