Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“I never knew I liked delivering them so much,” Tucker admits with an almost carefree laugh. I think that’s the most surprising difference about him, four months after we’ve started living together. How carefree he is now. That layer of anger and hardness that was always around him is gone now, replaced by someone a little softer, kinder, sweeter. At least, when he’s with me—it’s not like he’s changed his entire personality, and he won’t let anybody get away with walking over either of us. He’s always going to be my protector.
He’s always going to be mine. I’m never letting him go.
“Just a little longer,” he tells me, while I try to figure out where we are. We’ve only been in the car maybe ten minutes, if that, having made a series of left and right turns. I’m totally disoriented now, at a loss. But I trust him.
That doesn’t mean my heart slows down any once we come to a stop, and he cuts the engine. No, I’m more excited than ever, bouncing a little in my seat and wiggling my nose in case it will help move the blindfold so I can see.
“Stay still,” he orders, then gets out of the truck while I wait impatiently. He’s only walking around to my side so he can open the door and help me out.
“When am I going to be able to see?” It’s unnerving having him lead me like this, regardless of whether I trust him. I stumble, but he’s there to catch me before I can fall.
“Okay. I’ll take pity on you.” He brings me to a stop, and I’m tingling with anticipation while he steps up behind me. His breath stirs my hair as he murmurs, “One… two… three.”
Suddenly, the blindfold is gone. I blink hard against the sudden light flooding my vision, squinting. Finally, what’s in front of me comes into focus—not that I understand what I’m looking at. “A house? Whose house?” I ask, taking in the white siding and black shutters, the neatly trimmed hedges, the bright yellow front door that looks so cheerful and welcoming. It’s a decent size, not exactly enormous, but comfortable. At least, on the outside.
Slowly, Tucker’s arms wrap around me from behind before he pulls me close against his chest to whisper in my ear. “What if I told you it’s our house?”
It doesn’t make sense at first, and I have to laugh, twisting my head around to roll my eyes at him. “Okay, funny. For real. Whose house is it?”
His playful expression doesn’t change. “What if it’s ours? Can you see yourself living here?”
“You’re insane!”
“I’m an insane homeowner,” he points out with a grin. “Because this is our house. I bought it for us—unless you would rather continue living with my parents for the rest of our lives. I thought it might be nice to have a little privacy.”
I keep waiting for the punchline, but it never comes. Eventually, I have to wonder if this is actually true. Now I look at everything through new eyes, breathing faster, my thoughts racing. Is it possible? “Tucker, this had better not be a joke.”
“I’ve never been more serious. This is our home.” He turns me in place so we can stand face-to-face before taking my jaw in one hand and stroking my cheek. “Our house. For our life. If you don’t like it—”
“No, I love it!” I tell him before giggling and throwing my arms around his neck. “At least from the outside.”
“Then you’ll love the inside.” A wide, beaming smile transforms his face and makes my heart swell. “You want to take a look?”
“Yes, are you kidding?” He laughs when I take him by the hand and lead him up to the front door. I can’t wait. I also can’t believe this, but he pulls out a key that fits into the lock and opens the door. This is the biggest, craziest gift I’ve ever received.
Actually, that’s not exactly true. He’s the biggest, best gift, and he watches me step into the sunshine-soaked foyer with my hands crossed over my chest and my eyes wide, brimming with tears. “So beautiful,” I whisper, and that’s as much as I can get out before my throat closes up with emotion.
“There’s only the basics, furniture-wise,” he explains as I walk from room to room. A big, sunny living room that opens onto a kitchen overlooking the backyard. I can see us having parties here, with friends in the pool out back while I grab food from the fridge, and Tucker mans the grill. I can imagine having movie nights with Wren, sleepovers. Holidays, birthdays. There’s a small room that could be used as an office or a study, followed by one which Tucker wants to turn into a gym, which connects to the garage.