Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“We need to start planning a wedding,” I announced in my attempt not to blubber like a baby.
Ronan shook his head. “It’s already planned.”
“What?” I frowned. “When? Where? How did you do all that without me knowing?”
He gave me a look that was so, so Ronan.
“Oh, that’s right, you have people. Even your people have people.”
“I did a lot of it myself, thank you very much.”
“I want to hear details.” Anything to keep me from bouncing around the roof and accidentally tumbling off it in my excitement.
“It’s a surprise. Just pack a bathing suit.” He rocked his head side to side and added, “Maybe a few bathing suits.”
My eyebrows knitted together.
“Think a tropical beach, sun, sand, turquoise water. Me and you.”
“Sounds like paradise.”
“I’ve done everything to make sure it will be.”
“And when are we traveling to this paradise because…” Shit. Work. Ronan didn’t know.
“You have two weeks off before you sit behind that desk and in front of those cameras.”
“You knew before me?” Hold on. “You didn’t have anything to do with my promotion, right? You didn’t pull strings or something, did you?” Because if he did, I wasn’t taking that position. I wanted to earn it all on my own merit.
“No, but when I called your boss to ask when the best time would be for you to take two weeks off—because, again, I wanted this to be a surprise—he told me about it.”
“So, he’s going to delay my promotion?” I wasn’t sure if I was okay with that.
“Just for two weeks.”
I was supposed to start anchoring the evening news next week. “That means…”
“That’s what it means.”
“When do we leave?”
“Monday.”
“And when is our ceremony?”
He gave me a look I could clearly read that all my questions were messing up his surprise. I couldn’t help that I needed to know all the details. I was a journalist.
“The paperwork has to be in Saba three weeks prior to the ceremony, so that’ll be the Saturday after our arrival.”
“Saba?” I’d never heard of it.
“It’s a small Caribbean island I found that’s very welcoming to gay couples. Unfortunately, not many islands are.”
No surprise. But… “We’re going to be married in a little over a week?”
“You can’t back out now.”
“No, you can’t back out now,” I reminded him. “You already made me a promise and put the ring on my finger.”
“I hope you never take it off.”
“I don’t ever plan on it.” Just like the Circle of Life pendant I wore with Connor’s ashes. I would never remove either if I could help it.
“Tate,” he said softly with the smile that I loved as much as the man it was attached to.
“Yeah?”
“Now we kiss.”
I shrugged. “Well, if you insist…”
I crushed my lips to his.
Ronan (Three Years Later)
I pulled Tate’s new BMW X7 into our driveway in Fox Chapel, north of Pittsburgh. We had the house built two years ago since my penthouse, while spacious, didn’t have enough bedrooms for Alec and Mazie. We wanted them both to have their own rooms as well as a big backyard.
The gated community was perfectly located. Still close enough to the city and my office, but even closer to Burgh Media Group.
I glanced into the rearview mirror as I put the shifter into Park and waited while Tate, sitting in the back seat, carefully undid the harness from the car seat and lifted the baby from it.
Not only did we have room now for Tate’s two kids, since we split custody with Dahlia, but a nursery and plenty of room if we decided to grow our family even more.
Amazingly enough, Dahlia had given us shared custody without a fight. That meant I could no longer despise her. At least as much. After remarrying and dealing with a new baby of her own, Tate believed she was relieved to hand over more of the raising of their children to us.
And now Tate and I had a child of our own together.
It had been a long, exhausting delivery even though our surrogate had done all the physical work. Watching her in the delivery room made me glad I wasn’t a woman.
I was thrilled watching the birth of our daughter—officially named Jae Renée Harris-Pak on her birth certificate—but also a bit horrified with the whole process. I was torn with wanting to forget that time in the delivery room but also wanting to remember it forever.
After we left the delivery room, I told Tate I was buying that woman a new Mercedes. A convertible. With every damn option available. He had laughed, but I’d been serious. After what I witnessed, the woman deserved it.
As soon as I got out of the vehicle, I grabbed the diaper bag from the passenger seat and waited for Tate to get Jae settled against his shoulder.
Tate had wanted to pick a Korean name to honor my late father, so I let him choose. He chose the perfect name and my mother was thrilled with the choice.