Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Not taking any chances.”
I had a tiny little scar on my leg from being dragged by Cameron. I still caught Perish staring at or stroking it with a murderous look on his face. Meanwhile, the guy had three new bullet wound scars that he never paid any mind to.
As much as my mom and aunts raised me to be able to take care of myself, some intrinsic part of me really loved Perish’s protectiveness.
A guy cursed me out in traffic once, and I’d been worried I’d be trying to bail him out of jail.
“How’s it going in there?”
“Good. Everyone’s grinding on the dance floor right now. Then it’s just cake, drinking, and seeing the happy couple off.”
“Where are they going on their honeymoon?”
“A cruise.” Perish made a weird gurgling sound. “What?”
“Spending your honeymoon locked up with thousands of other people? No thanks.”
I liked cruises.
But I was apt to agree.
“So, what’s the best honeymoon locale then?”
“An over-water villa. Private ski cabin. Private island rental. Somewhere private. Where we don’t have to worry about people hearing you cry out for more of my cock,” he added, his hands sinking down to grab my ass.
“Don’t start something we can’t finish,” I grumbled. “But I agree. We don’t get much privacy.”
My neighbors knocked on the wall if we got too loud.
“Speaking of that, I was thinking about getting a place.”
“Really?” I asked, pulling back to look at him. “Since when?”
“Since the first night the neighbors got their celibate panties in a wad. But I started looking at places while you were dealing with that bride from hell.”
“You’ve been keeping secrets from me?” I asked in faux outrage.
“Didn’t wanna split your focus. But now that this one is done, figured maybe we could go look at some places. Found one with one of those finished sheds out back that can be used as a home office.”
“And let me guess: a nice yard for you to fuss over?”
“It’s in bad fucking shape.”
“But that’s your favorite. A project.”
“That’s true.”
“Well, whatever place it ends up being, the local birds and squirrels are going to have it made.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way. Tell me when, and I’ll set up a viewing.”
“Tomorrow. Let’s go tomorrow.”
We’d been pretty much living together since he healed from his gunshot wounds. But my apartment was not meant for a man his size. Everything felt cramped and doll-sized. It would be nice to have a bigger, more private place.
“Nice. If we like this one, it’s got one big added bonus.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s at the end of the same block your parents live on. Might be good for… future plans.”
We didn’t talk about kids often, aside from the fact that we both wanted them. And as much as I did, I really think Perish wanted them more. To be able to have that loving family he never had growing up, to break bad cycles. To teach them how to mow the lawn.
“That sounds perfect. Do we really even need to see it?” I asked, soaking up another hug before I had to pull away.
“Want to have Cain point out anything we gotta worry about,” Perish said. Cain had been law enforcement by trade. But his real passion was in handyman-type stuff.
“Okay. Then let’s see it, let him tell us it’s all good, and snag it before someone else does.”
“Deal.”
“But after eleven. I’m going to be here so late. I want to sleep in.”
“Sleep in, brunch, viewing.”
Yeah, I’d introduced Perish to brunch. He’d been obsessed ever since. I had a theory it was the mimosas. But whatever it was, I loved the looks we got from all the groups of women when we showed up at the restaurant. Like they thought I’d snagged one of the good ones.
I had.
“Sounds perfect,” I agreed, leaning up for a kiss before heading back inside to watch a whole family celebrate the beginning of a happily-ever-after for their loved ones.
Someday, that would be us.
But I wasn’t in a rush.
I was enjoying each step along the way.
Perish - 1 year
“You’re getting fat as fuck, man,” I called to the squirrel who was staring at me from the tree, just waiting for me to finish filling the feeders so he could knock the contents on the ground for him and his buddies. “If you’re not careful, you’re gonna get stuck in the fence.”
“Talking to yourself?” Gracie asked, standing a few feet away with an armful of grocery bags.
“To Steve,” I said, nodding at the squirrel.
“I still think that’s a girl. She’s too calm. The boys are always chasing each other up and down the tree…”
“What?” I asked when she trailed off.
“I think we’re officially old people,” she declared, her face scrunching up. “We’re talking about the squirrels. And the birds. And we totally talked about the weather this morning.”
“We’re… domestic,” I decided.
“That’s a nice way of putting it. How did it go with the plumber?” she asked as I came over to help her with the bags.