Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
I laugh at the absurdity.
“Come on, then! Share the wisdom. Don’t leave me hanging after that cliffhanger.”
“Some of the largest ships in the world carry over twenty-four thousand containers at once.”
I twist back to him. “You’re having a laugh.”
“No. For real. It’s crazy.”
I giggle, caught up in the madness of reality.
“Everything about our life is crazy, Josh. Even the fact we’re discussing cargo ships at a hotel window while Heath Mason is prepping for dirty time with us down the corridor. Or I guess he is. I hope he is.”
“Well, you know what the famous Seal says about Crazy.”
“Doesn’t everyone in the universe know what the famous Seal says about Crazy? And he’s right. We’re never going to survive without it. We’d have no chance.”
That’s when I truly clock my decision. Right here and now, overlooking boats in a bustling dock as the sun goes down.
Normal means nothing to me.
Nothing that means anything to me is normal. Not even our rug at home. Not Josh’s weird collection of books and cacti. Not the way I salute magpies and give a hop, hop, hop on my left foot like a weird ballerina whenever I slip a stiletto on.
Not my life, not my career, not my boyfriend.
And not Heath.
Heath Mason is a million amazing things, and the word normal wouldn’t feature in any of them.
The cards come tumbling down in my mind, and my inner jeep veers off the road of security. But I don’t care. I don’t give a toss.
I know what I want.
I want the three of us. Me, Josh and Heath living our best lives, without the constraints of normality.
I want our magic trio all in, for all time. I want to love the two men, just as they love each other. No holds barred. No proposals involved. Nothing but us, being us, far away from normal.
Still, there are three of us involved in the outcome, and two votes can easily outweigh one.
I only pray Heath hasn’t gone all rational and is set to side with Josh, because that’s not where I’m standing. Not anymore.
Thanks again, Vinnie Hampton.
He’s left me with a lot more mental stimulation than memories of being fucked on a lion.
“You’re tense as all hell,” Josh says, massaging my shoulders. “Want to talk anything through before the proposal starts? Any last-minute discussions you want to run through?”
This time I shake my head.
“Nope.”
“No?”
I turn to Josh, grinning with an inner glow I feel bursting through from my very core. I’m resolute. Determined.
“Nope. I’ve got this.”
He looks confused, surprised, but gives me a smile, nodding at my words.
“Go you, Ells. Team us, whatever the outcome may be.”
We link pinkies, because yeah, it’s team us, whatever the outcome may be. I just hope the ultimate outcome has a third us in it, without any baggy disguise hoodies, and pre-scheduled meetups until Heath finally meets someone else and waves us goodbye.
That’s not the normal I want in my life.
Josh grabs the purple wrapped De Chante when the proposal time approaches. He clicks arrived on the app and awaits the instructions.
I laugh out loud when the response comes through, because I should have guessed it. Heath is in suite fucking three, next door. And this time, if I’d have known for sure, maybe I would have given a little fuck it to normality and walked right on over.
“You’ve got so much sass about you tonight, baby,” Josh says as we leave the hotel room. He raises an eyebrow at me as we approach Heath’s door. “I like it. And I think Heathy Baby’s gonna like it, too.”
“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”
“Sure will. In just about… ten seconds’ time.”
The door to suite number three swishes open wide the very moment Josh’s fist lands on it, and seeing Heath standing there before us sends my heart into a scattered frenzy, because holy fucking shit, he looks amazing, with his long dark hair and cool blue eyes.
He pulls us inside, and scrap convention, my lips are on his before the door has even snapped shut properly, and he’s kissing me back, pulling Josh in close as he does it.
Three-way kisses, and tight hugs, and missed yous on loop, all three of us a tangle as we stumble for enough of a greeting to make up for lost time.
“Here’s your De Chante,” Josh says finally, and hands the bottle over to our client.
“I was taking the piss, Joshua,” Heath says.
“I know that, jackass, but you stated it loud and clear. You can down it straight from the bottle and give me a thanks for the pretty silver bow. I’m not being your puppy dog for two nights running. Forget that shit.”
Heath’s vampiric smirk sets me on fire.
“I might down it from the bottle, just for the joy of pissing it back out into your smartass mouth later.”