Mr. Smithfield- The Mister Read Online Louise Bay

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
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Hollie grinned at him like he had no idea what was coming. And if I knew anything about my sister’s determination and single-mindedness, she’d have Joshua in love and married within a year.

I pulled Gabriel to one side as Hollie and Joshua continued to bicker, and Dexter and Tristan looked on, delighted at Joshua being tortured.

“I love you,” I said. “And your wild, dysfunctional group of friends.”

“I love you too,” he said. “And as much as I loved this house as soon as I saw it, I love it even more, now I see you in it.”

That’s how life would always be with Gabriel and me. Life was made better by being together. The dark moments in life wouldn’t be so scary when I was holding his hand and good times would just be made better by being side by side, step-by-step with this beautiful soul next to me.

A few weeks later still…

Gabriel

A twitch in my trousers told me that maybe this blindfold I’d just secured around Autumn’s eyes would come in handy a little later this evening.

“Gabriel,” she said, her tone hushed. She brought her fingers up to the edge of the black silk bandana.

“Take my hand,” I said. “You’re fine.” I led her from the hallway into the dining room, which had a clear view of the internal courtyard.

When I had her in position, I stepped back. I wanted to take in her reaction when she saw what I was about to show her. “Autumn Lumen, I wanted to do something special as this is an anniversary.”

Her hand shot to the blindfold. “Anniversary?”

“Don’t take it off yet,” I said. “Yes, it’s the fifteenth month anniversary of the first time I ever laid eyes on you, wearing pajamas and eating ice cream with your sister at Dexter’s place.”

Autumn tipped her head to the side. “You are too sweet.”

“You know that’s not true.”

She laughed and I took a deep breath, relishing the sound that filled my soul every time I heard it. “You’re sweet with a side of dirty between the sheets.”

“I wanted to mark it,” I continued. “So I made you something.”

Her delicious pout widened into a smile as if just hearing the words was enough of a gift.

I pulled the tie fastening the blindfold and it fell to the ground. Her eyes grew large as she took in the two Adirondack chairs set out in the courtyard. “A classic American design made with the strength of English oak,” I said, watching her reaction as she stepped out into the courtyard.

“They’re beautiful,” she said, smoothing her hands over the wood. “You made these?”

She turned to me and I stalked toward her, wanting to hold her expression of pride and happiness in my memory forever.

“After the jewelry box, I thought maybe I’d do another project from scratch,” I said. “I thought that when we’re too old to travel, we can sit in these chairs and reminisce over the times we went to a thousand faraway places.”

“I love that idea.” She slid her palm over my cheek, and I circled my arms around her waist. “And the stool,” she said pointing to the matching one I’d also made. “That’s for Bethany,” she said, knowing exactly what I’d been thinking. “And you can make more for our other children.”

“When the time comes,” I said. There was no rush to add to our family, but we both hoped more children were in our future.

“I miss her when she’s not here,” she said.

“Me too,” I replied. “But it’s good that Penelope’s in her life.” Penelope had started a fine art course and found a place to live between the college and Smithfield. She had shown no signs of abandoning Bethany and they’d grown closer. I hoped she found whatever she was looking for in Bethany and in her art. If Penelope was happy, that was good for our daughter.

“She’s going to love it,” Autumn said. “You’re so talented.”

“I’m so lucky,” I said, squeezing her tight. “Oh, and another thing.” I nodded at the white envelopes on her chair.

“More anniversary gifts?” She picked up the envelopes and I took a seat, pulling her onto my lap. “I don’t need anything more. What could be better than these beautiful chairs?”

“What about somewhere to go that we can reminisce over while we sit in them?”

“Are you serious?” she said, ripping open the envelope. “India?” She glanced over the paperwork.

“Did you know that the Taj Mahal was built as a monument of love?”

She pressed her lips to my cheek. “I did know that.” She kissed me again—my jaw this time.

“I’m thinking I might propose,” I said, holding my breath for her reaction. She was still so young, and I didn’t want to put her under any pressure, but I knew that I’d be with her until my dying breath. I saw no reason why we weren’t as publicly committed as we were privately.



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