Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“Part of me is jealous. I mean, I’ve known from the beginning he was the one for you. And despite my many—and I do mean many—times of wanting to bash him in the head, I’m happy to be part of your special day. The other part of me is like, no way in hell would I get married. Live together, have babies and whatever, but the marriage thing . . .” Melanie shuddered.
Reid reached for Melanie’s hand and squeezed. “I think because of how your parents are, it’s turned you off from marriage.”
Melanie’s parents had been married for ages, yet they fought constantly, slept in different bedrooms, and traveled without one another. She’d spent many nights crying on Reid’s shoulder about her parents and didn’t understand why they wouldn’t get a divorce. All their children were grown and living away from home, so using them as an excuse was no longer valid.
“They’re not the picture of what a marriage should be like, but still.” Melanie paused to take a bite of their appetizer. “Marriage is a contract with unwritten rules where you read between the lines. Like, you’re supposed to know what the other person wants and needs without them communicating. It doesn’t sound appealing.”
Reid promised herself she’d never look at marriage the way Melanie did. “Communication is key. Grayson and I have worked on this part of our relationship a lot. We’ve had to.”
“The transplant changed him.”
“For the better.”
Melanie picked up her glass and held it out for Reid to clink. “Sad to say, but true.”
After lunch, they scurried to their spa appointment. They opted for a couples massage, mostly so they could talk, while they both realized drinking a bottle of wine at lunch was probably not the smartest thing they could’ve done. They were sleepy and fighting to keep their eyes open, yet they still had a nail appointment to get to.
“Honeymoon?” Melanie mumbled groggily.
“Somewhere warm,” Reid replied with the same vigor. “Grayson’s picking. He’s taking the job very, very seriously.” She yawned.
“Do you approve his time off?”
Reid tried to laugh, but her masseuse hit a knot in her lower back that made her wince and her toes curl, and not in the good way she preferred. “Oh God,” she moaned as hands kneaded and pressed into sensitive skin. “That’s going to leave a bruise.”
“Sorry,” the masseuse said.
Melanie lifted her head and looked over her shoulder at her gal. “Don’t let her scare you. I don’t care about bruises.”
“Sadist,” Reid mumbled. “The last thing I need is to explain a bruise to Grayson. He’ll worry something is wrong.”
“I hadn’t thought about that. I guess anything out of the ordinary is a red flag for him?”
Reid nodded as best she could. “He worries, and I’m okay with it. I’d rather let him question everything than ignore things. He’s very aware since the surgery.”
“Like I’ve said, you’re lucky.”
“I know,” she said quietly as she closed her eyes and gave in to the massage.
The next day, when Grayson was due home in the early evening, Reid and Melanie took a rideshare out to Luther’s house to ask about Reid wearing her mother’s wedding dress. She expected him to say yes, but she also anticipated some hesitation and tears. Her father had never remarried and rarely dated, even though Reid had encouraged him to get back out there. She adored her father, in all his gruffness, and wanted to see him happy. At one time in her life, she’d tried to set him up with different teachers she’d had, purposely getting into trouble so he’d have to come in and talk to whichever teacher she’d felt would make a great partner for her dad. Her efforts failed. Every single time.
When the girls arrived at Reid’s childhood home, her father’s truck was parked in the driveway, and any hope she’d had that they might catch him off guard were dashed when they found him weeding the flower beds. They had been her mother’s pride and joy. She was always planting, growing, and pruning her prized rosebushes, the flower bed full of pink peonies, and the hedgerow of dahlias, which needed peat moss to help keep the soil well drained. As Reid got out of the car, she saw the pinks, purples, and white of the dahlias and made a note to change the flowers she’d chosen for the wedding. She would honor her mother in every possible way.
“Hey, girls,” Luther said as he stood. He took off his work gloves, wiped his hands on his pants, and gave them each a hug. He’d always treated Melanie like a daughter and had opened his home to her many times when her parents were at each other’s throats. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Wedding talk, Pops,” Melanie said, to which Luther groaned comically.
“Come on in, then. I put a pot of chili on the stove this morning. It’s probably about done.”