Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
They were working on it.
But this…? Yeah, when they were tired and strung out, every molehill had the potential to turn into a mountain.
Thankfully, they were both good at making up. Neither of them got butthurt about being wrong on occasion, and the make-up sex was out of this world.
Gray glanced at the screen as his phone buzzed with a reply.
Just got through security.
Okay, good.
It would be nice if they could work this shit out before they boarded, ’cause Gray preferred to use Darius as a pillow instead.
He spotted Darius a couple minutes later, and Gray moved to a far corner of the gate where they could get a semblance of privacy.
Goddammit, Darius probably hadn’t eaten, and he hated airplane food. Late-night flights didn’t always have a decent menu anyway. Gray peered down the long hall, where most shops were closing.
“Did you eat?” Gray asked as soon as Darius was within earshot.
Darius maneuvered himself between the rows of chairs and inclined his head. “I had coffee and some jerky that didn’t live up to its claim of being Texas’s finest.”
That was nowhere near enough.
He sat down next to Gray and blew out a breath. “I’m sorry I split earlier. I had to clear my head.”
Gray eyed him carefully. He wasn’t even annoyed anymore, but he was a bit worried. “Over a stupid fight? Baby, I know you wanna marry me.”
Darius let out a tired chuckle. “Good. But the shit leading up to the bitch fit isn’t as minor. I shouldn’t have taken Elise’s side from the get-go.”
Gray felt his forehead crease as confusion seeped in.
“Look, it’s a…” Darius cleared his throat and started over. “This whole pandemic, you’ve anchored yourself to the wedding planning. It’s been your light at the end of the tunnel, and I guess it’s been…intimidating, in a way. And I’m not even sure that’s the right word, but everything you do is so fucking perfect—and I don’t know how to measure up. Don’t get me wrong, the day’s important to me too, but—you know. Fuck. I just wanna be married to you, knucklehead. I don’t care about all the other shit, and you do, and—”
“Hey.” Gray had to stop him there. He had to intervene. Darius had it all wrong. “First of all, I haven’t anchored myself to anything besides you and our family.” That crap was important. “The wedding has been a good distraction, absolutely. When Mom had to close the inn, I went stir-crazy. I needed something to do in between helping out at the restaurant and studying morphine drips and what types of antibiotics are more suitable for the field.”
Darius glanced at him hesitantly, and the look just tore at Gray. Fuck, he never wanted Darius to feel that way. It was bizarre.
“We’ve had another few things rocking our world lately,” Gray reminded patiently. “The adoptions going through, all the foster family shit, name changes—all of it. It’s been overwhelming. In the best way, mind you, but overwhelming, nonetheless. And burying myself in the wedding planning gave me something to… I don’t know, it centered me somehow. Gave me a date to look forward to where I finally get to become a Quinn too.”
Because he was the last man standing. A Nolan in a house full of Quinns.
“Yeah?” Darius was thawing. Tension left his shoulders.
“Yeah.” Gray tested a smile and nudged his shoulder to Darius’s. “I don’t know what this has to do with Elise, though.”
Darius sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. “That goddamn Ferrero truffle or whatever it’s called.”
Uh-huh. What about it?
If Gray had thought some chocolate he’d picked up at Target—as a placeholder while he tried to decide how the tables would be set at the reception—would cause such an issue, he never would’ve bought the damn things.
“It was the way you explained your vision,” Darius went on. “How you didn’t want a big wedding cake. You wanted each table to have a smaller cake and some pastry and truffle dishes—and the reason for it. Because I don’t like too much commotion or being the center of attention, you thought it would be more intimate and less chaotic this route. You just know so much about me, Gray.”
Gray smiled, even as the confusion lingered. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Well, sure, if I can showcase the same.” Darius frowned. “It’s a year and a half later, and I’m still struggling with what to put in my vows, and then you send out the wedding favors, including another fucking thing you know I like, and…yeah. I’m not saying I’m making a lick of sense, and I’m not putting you on some pedestal for the sake of it, but you’re a little too good at anticipating my needs, you spoil me fucking rotten with your attention, and you constantly show how often I’m on your mind. Especially with this wedding. You think I don’t see? You think I don’t see how many times you’ve settled for something because you know it’s what I prefer?”