Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“Heeey!” Levi says over everyone’s laughter. “This is family time, brat!”
I blow him a kiss and shake my head. “But seriously, Molly. Today you’re not just marrying Brayden. You’re stuck with all of us—even Levi—and we’re lucky enough to have duped you into thinking this is a good thing. I’m grateful for you and Noah, and so thrilled to call you both Jacksons. Here’s to you and Brayden.” I lift my glass of sparkling apple juice in the air. “May you always be lucky enough to know what a gift you have in each other.”
Everyone cheers, and I lower back into my seat.
Easton leans over, his mouth brushing my ear. “Do you know how wild I am about you?”
I smile. “I might have an idea.”
He nips my earlobe. “Good. Just checking.”
Easton
When dinner’s over and everyone’s dancing on the beach, I stand and offer Shay my hand. “Dance with me?” I nod to the beach where all of her brothers are entranced by their dance partners. “Brayden and Molly want everyone out there.”
She bites her bottom lip. I want to bite that lip myself, but biting leads to sucking, and sucking leads to roaming hands, and . . . Well, we’re expected to be out here for the next couple of hours, so I’m trying to pace myself. “I suppose. If I have to.”
I lead her down to the beach.
Shay loops her hands behind my neck, and I settle mine at her hips as we slowly sway to the music.
I scan the family surrounding us and shake my head. “Carter was right.”
She cocks her head. “About what?”
“I told him he shouldn’t propose today. That it’s a little . . . I don’t know, faux pas to propose at someone else’s wedding.”
“I don’t think Teagan cared when he did it. She just wants to marry him.”
“Oh, I think she cared.” I pull her closer and rub a hand up and down her back. “I think she likes celebrating with your family. He proposed here because she’s part of this now. Officially.”
She smiles. “She’s stuck with us.”
“Lucky girl,” I whisper.
“You’ve been stuck with us since you were a kid,” she says. “Don’t deny it.”
“I wouldn’t dare. I consider myself lucky too, but I wasn’t as lucky then as I am now.”
“For a guy who says he’s not good with words, you are such a charmer.” She closes her eyes and rests her head on my chest.
Warmth floods through me. That sense of rightness clicks into place. Everything is working out. Scarlett even found a place in Chicago yesterday. She said it’s a better fit for her than Jackson Harbor and that she didn’t want to get in the way of my fresh start with Shay.
“Can I dance?”
Shay and I still our feet at Abi’s request. With a small smile, Shay steps back and nods at me, getting out of the way so I can dance with my daughter. I grab her hand before she can get far.
“How about we all three dance together?”
Abi grins. “Okay!”
We all hold hands and sway to the music. And I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.
Easton
Twenty-nine weeks later
“Easton! Oh my God, Easton! Get in here!”
There’s a special speed I can run through my house. I call it the I-think-my-girlfriend’s-in-labor speed. That’s the speed I use as I fly down the hall and into the den. I grab the doorframe as I turn the corner and narrowly miss falling on my ass on the hardwood floor. I’m still bruised on my right side from when I thought she was in labor last weekend.
I’m not sure what’s more embarrassing about that—that she was doing it to show the girls how fast I’d come, or that, as she pointed out, this isn’t my first rodeo and I’m well aware that babies don’t just fall out seconds after contractions start.
Shay’s sitting at her desk, staring wide-eyed at the computer screen.
I try to play it cool and hide that I ran here. “What can I do for you, Dr. Jackson?”
She rolls her eyes at the name, but hell, she earned it. “I have a reply from that agent.”
“The one you queried last week?”
“No, the one whose contact info you gave me. Remember, I sent her my manuscript last month.”
I was starting to think my buddy had given me a false lead when she wasn’t hearing anything back. “What’d she say?”
“She loves it.” She presses both hands against her mouth and shakes her head. “Actually, what she says is she loves, loves, loves it. Three loves, Easton.”
“I told you it was good.”
“And baby, I appreciate that, but how much YA romance do you really read?”
“I don’t have to read the genre to know a good book when I read one.”
She makes a face. “Am I going to be this emotional forever?” Then . . . three, two, one, tears.