I Wish You Were Mine (Harbor Village #2) Read Online Jessica Peterson

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Harbor Village Series by Jessica Peterson
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Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
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Tuck nods. “I bet. I would’ve loved to see Maren in all her cheer glory. You know, my daughter was a cheerleader for Halloween.”

“How cute is that? Oh!” Mom claps her hands. “Don’t let me forget, Maren, I have your other pom-poms in my bag.” I have several sets of pom-poms, and since Katie loved the first ones I got from Mom so much, I asked Mom to bring the others tonight.

“Katie is going to lose her damn mind,” Tuck says.

I manage a smile. A real one this time. “I can’t wait to see it.”

“I want to see you in action.” Tuck takes his hand off my thigh to rest his arm on the back of my chair. Leaning into me, he puts his other hand on my leg. “Maybe we all do a weekend in Chapel Hill. Go to a football game, see if you can still chant along with the squad.”

“We’d be in for that,” Dad says.

“We haven’t been back since Mare graduated,” Mom adds. “Going to a game would be such a treat.”

Tuck looks at me. “What do you think?”

I think your charming side is unbearably cute.

“I think that would be great, yeah.”

He grins. “Consider it done. I’ll get the ball rolling tomorrow.”

“You work fast,” Mom says.

Tuck laughs. “I just know what I want, and I go after it.”

Tuck is clearly wooing my parents, and he is doing a damn good job of it. Not twenty minutes into our conversation, and he has them eating out of his palm.

He’s also all over me, surrounding me with his warmth and his affection. In the past, guys who did this made me feel suffocated. Like I was being pawed at.

But Tuck makes me feel safe. And yeah, a little proud. Somehow I managed to land this gorgeous, successful, delicious smelling man.

Not only that. He’s quite clearly staking his claim, touching me in public. Telling the world I’m his.

Showing my parents how well he takes care of me.

It’s heady stuff, almost wonderful enough to overpower the anxiety that buzzes inside my chest like a nest of trapped bees.

Almost.

“I like that you know your mind, Tuck.” Dad lifts his glass. “A toast to the two of you. This was a surprise, certainly, but sounds like y’all are real happy together, which makes me happy too.”

Mom raises her glass. “I’ll toast to that.”

The bees in my chest go apeshit. I glance nervously at Tuck. He raises his brows the tiniest bit. Do we tell them now?

I honestly don’t know. I guess I could take a sip of champagne. But then Mom and Dad might judge me when I do get the nerve to tell them. Plus—and you know you’re not feeling well when you say this—the thought of drinking champagne is unappetizing in the extreme.

But I’m not ready.

Then again, will I ever be prepared to let down my parents?

To tell them I fucked up and the dreams they had for me are being put on hold?

I lift my champagne with fingers that shake. Mom and Dad are ebullient, big smiles and lit up eyes.

My own eyes burn. I blink, hard, and watch as my parents tip back their glasses to drink.

Tuck, though, waits with his glass poised midair. He searches my face, an indent appearing between his eyebrows.

Mom immediately knows something is up. “Maren, are you okay? You’re not drinking your champagne. Neither are you, Tuck. Do y’all not like it?”

“I think it’s good,” Dad says.

Just tell them. Get the words out.

Tuck massages my leg underneath the table.

“You all right?” he asks gently.

I set my glass down. Taking a deep breath, I screw my courage to the sticking place and say, “So Tuck and I have some news.”

Mom goes still. Dad blinks.

I am ninety-nine percent certain my face is red as a tomato.

“Well.” I swallow and manage to look at my parents. “We’re going to have a baby.”

twenty-two

. . .

Maren

With All Due Respect, Sir

Silence.

Awful, ringing silence that makes me wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole.

I fight the urge to cry. I feel like I’ve cried a lot recently, and I’m tired of it. I want my parents to see that I’m excited about this baby, not sad or scared.

Nervous, yes. Shocked, sure. But more than anything, excited. I’m a grown woman now, and they have to trust that I know what I want.

I want to be a mom. I want to be with Tuck. And I have to show my parents that I’m unwavering in my commitment to those things. Falling apart would just make them freak out more.

“You’re joking,” Mom says at last, but her eyes are glassy.

Tuck shakes his head. “No, Leigh, we’re not. Baby is due May twenty-fifth, which puts us just shy of ten weeks.”

Dad opens his mouth, then closes it. Opens it again. “I honestly don’t know what to say.”


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