Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“I’m sure the designer could whip you up a new one in no time,” he says casually, one hand resting on the steering wheel as he leans in to kiss me. “Let’s start trying tonight in our new bed.”
The king-size bed Henry had delivered to my parents’ place last week, unbeknownst to me or Mama.
My stomach flutters, even though I’ve caught on. “Okay, now I know you’re not being serious because we can’t.” I give him a look.
“I forgot.”
“No, you didn’t.” He knows I’m on my period. Henry’s always acutely aware of this time of the month because he turns needier.
He hums. “That’s fine. The ways I plan on defiling your body tonight don’t make babies, anyway.”
Those flutters are quickly replaced by a hammering heartbeat.
“It’s been a while since I fucked your ass.” He flashes a sexy smile. A challenge. And I’m not sure he’s joking.
“Henry …,” I warn.
“I just want to give my future mother-in-law something to pray for. It’s my Christmas gift to her.”
“Trust me, she already prays to the Lord for your salvation every day.”
He throws the car into Reverse. “After this holiday, she’ll be crossing herself for me until Easter.”
I poke him in the ribs, but I’m laughing.
CHAPTER 22
February
Violet answers the door with a wet mop of hair. “I’m sorry! I slept in!” She stumbles over the pile of shoes—all hers—backing up to let me into the house. “Give me five minutes. I just have to throw my things into a bag and I’ll be ready.” She trots off to her bedroom, leaving me to shut the front door.
“Good morning, dear.” Gayle struggles to get up from the recliner.
I hold my hands in the air. “Don’t get up on my account.”
“This arthritis …” She gives up on her effort, settling back in. She’s still in her nightgown and housecoat, a blanket draped over her bottom half. “I thought I heard her stirring, but I guess it was something else. Maybe I should have my hearing checked.”
“Don’t worry about it. I built in lots of time and the roads are clear.” Cold, but the Porsche SUV navigates well. I miss being behind the wheel, and Henry didn’t argue with me too much about driving myself to Greenbank once he saw the clear weather forecast.
“So, this is your bridal shower you’re going to?”
“Yes. The ladies at the congregation wanted to throw something for me.” I resisted at first—showers are for, well, showering the bride with presents. Henry and I don’t need anything—until Henry suggested I choose a charity to donate to in lieu of gifts.
He won at least a hundred points with Mama when I relayed that message.
“That’s nice. And I’m sure your family is so happy to see you and Henry together.”
I laugh and hope it doesn’t sound too doubtful. “Where’s Howard?”
“Resting. He’s feeling under the weather lately. We both caught Violet’s cold a few weeks ago and he hasn’t been able to shake it. I’d like him to get checked out, but you know how men are.”
I’ve seen Gayle a handful of times since we’ve met. She’s never looked so frail and tired before. “We might be able to arrange a house call, if you’d like?” Do doctors even do that anymore? Regardless, there doesn’t seem to be much Henry can’t set up.
“Oh, that’s sweet of you, dear, but we’ll manage.” She toys with a corner of her blanket. “And where is Henry this weekend?”
“Los Angeles, but he’s flying to Pittsburgh to meet us at the hotel tonight.” We have a suite booked at the same Wolf where Henry and I reunited after my father’s accident.
“Gosh, that man travels a lot. He must be exhausted.”
“He works hard.”
She looks over her shoulder at Violet’s shut door. “Ever since she came back from that ski trip, it seems like he’s all she can talk about. Henry this and Henry that.”
“He’s a big fan of hers too. We both are.” Colorado felt like the start of something special. We spent three days skiing, eating, laughing, and while Henry was there to check on hotel operations, we had his undivided attention. A rarity.
Violet’s mood on the flight home was morose by comparison, but we didn’t hold it against her. She didn’t want the trip to end.
Gayle hesitates before asking, “You and Henry. Are you two planning on … having children?” She flinches, as if just hearing herself ask the question pains her because she doesn’t want to invade our privacy. So opposite to Mama.
“Yes, that is the plan.”
“Soon?”
“Sooner than later. After the wedding, though.” The topic hasn’t come up since Henry’s teasing on Christmas Eve, but each time I reach for a new package of birth control pills, I waffle over the idea of not opening it, of tossing them out.
Her eyebrows draw together. There’s something heavy on her mind.
“What’s wrong, Gayle?”