Total pages in book: 186
Estimated words: 178688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 893(@200wpm)___ 715(@250wpm)___ 596(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 178688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 893(@200wpm)___ 715(@250wpm)___ 596(@300wpm)
“I have nothing to complain about, really.” I set my drink down and settle on the lounge chair with my legs stretched out. “It’s wedding jitters, I’m sure.”
“Already?” she asks, getting comfy in the chair next to me. “I thought the date wasn’t until March.”
“Robert wants to move it to November,” I explain.
She nearly spits out her margarita but quickly covers her mouth. “November? Why?”
I laugh at her shocked expression. “He thinks we’ve waited long enough and wants to make me his wife so we can move in together and start making babies. He was raised with traditional values, and the men and women in his family get married quickly and raise a family.”
“Whoa…that’s a lot to process.” She blinks, taking another sip. “What’d you say?”
“I told him I needed time to think about it. He put me on the spot. I haven’t even fully processed that we only have seven months left, so I was caught off guard.”
“Well, money isn’t the issue. That man will buy you anything you want,” she says with a grin. “So what’s holding you back?”
I shrug, not sure how to explain the mixed feelings I’m having. I adore his parents, and I know they love Robert and me together. I met them early in our relationship and his mother, Christine, gushed over all the grandchildren we’d give her. We try and meet them once a month for brunch on Sundays and she fills me in on all the gossip in her elite circle. After a while, she felt like the mother-figure I’ve been without for over twenty years. She’d be devastated if we split up, and truthfully, I would too. She’s the epitome of beauty and wealth, but she has a big heart and always invites me to her country club parties to socialize with their friends. Even though I get along well with his family, it can’t be the reason we rush to the altar if it doesn’t feel right.
“How’d you know you were in love with Gabe?”
She smiles briefly before the corners of her lips fall. “I just did. I was pretty damn smitten by him, but at first, it was high school puppy love. That first summer we spent together was like something you’d read in a Nicholas Sparks novel. We wanted to be around each other constantly. Day or night, no matter what, and our feelings blossomed so fast. He made me laugh a lot and looked at me like I was his whole world. Gabe was the first and only man I’ve ever loved. He could do no wrong, and as time passed, I was blinded to the issues we were having. Then we got married, and I got pregnant, and—”
“Yeah, I know,” I say softly and grab her hand when she doesn’t continue because that story doesn’t end happily.
“You get butterflies in the beginning, and then after a while, you fall into a comfortable routine. Happens to all relationships.” She takes a long swig of her drink. “I’m sure you two are just in a lull, and once the big day gets closer, you’ll be itching to walk down the aisle.”
I hope so because right now it feels like I’m settling for the kind of love that doesn’t excite me. On the other hand, Robert can take care of me the way my father wants. Robert isn’t a bad guy, but I wouldn’t be his only love. He’d be more married to his job than me. Hell, he already is.
“Yeah, probably.” Tipping my head back, I empty my glass.
“Speaking of Robert, do you think he’d be able to help me find some property?”
“You’re looking to buy a house?”
“Yep, I think it’s time. Owen needs a bigger yard and bedroom, and I need more space for me. But I need something in a decent neighborhood that I can afford, so I’m thinking it’ll have to be a fixer-upper. I thought maybe Robert would know of something or know someone who might.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” I hold up my hand, amused. “You, Katie Walker, are going to remodel a house? I added way too much tequila.”
She chuckles and sticks out her tongue. “I’ve been watching plenty of tutorials online and remodeling TV shows, thank you very much. I might not be an expert, but I can follow directions, and well, if I completely fuck it up, I can call a contractor.”
Her Southern accent gets thicker as she drinks more, and I laugh. I’m guilty of it too. “I’m trying to imagine you in overalls with a tool belt, and I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
“Well, try harder, babe, because it’s happening. I’ll be tearing down walls, repairing floors, and installing sinks. Hell, I might get my own reality TV show by the end of it. Single mom renovates an old home. It has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?”