Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Will you let me put the ring on you now?” I ask, and she holds out her shaky left hand. I take out the five-carat princess-cut diamond with round pink diamonds in the band. It fits on her hand perfectly; she doesn’t even take a second to look at it. Instead, she gets down on her knees in front of me.
“Will you marry me?” she asks, and I laugh. “You didn’t think that you would ask me, and I don’t ask you.” She slips her shirt over her head.
“Just remember.” I pull her to me, slipping off her pants and laying her on the floor. “I asked you first,” I say, sliding into her.
Epilogue One
Becca
“Where are you taking me?” I ask as I get into his SUV. “I just want to go home.”
“It’s just a small detour,” he says, and I look in the back at Lizzie, who just snorts. We just got back from a one-week road trip, and I have to say, I’m so over it. I tried to get out of it, but let’s just say he won that argument.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“I’m tired,” I say. “I want a bath and my bed.”
We pull up to a house as he parks in the driveway. “Where are we?” I ask, getting out of the car and looking at the house. It’s two stories, and the bright lights show me the white with black windows and doors. I look over at Nico as he walks to me and kisses my lips. He does that often. I could be talking to someone, and he will just come over to kiss me. When we got back from the island, the news of his annulment had died down, so no one really cared. Then when Laurene announced that she was married to Lizzie, that was a bigger news story than her annulment. Needless to say, she finally took over her father’s company, and it’s thriving. She travels an insane amount, but they spend at least three weeks a month together. So Lizzie is flying to her most of the time.
He looks over at Lizzie, who just hands him a set of keys. “Thank you,” he says, and we walk up the concrete pathway to the front door. The light is on in the hallway, and we see the winding staircase, but it’s only two stories. The marble hallway looks so shiny. “Let me show you the kitchen,” he says with excitement.
We walk past a dining room and then come to the open concept family room and massive kitchen with the biggest island I’ve ever seen. “Nico, whose house is this?” I ask, and he turns around.
“It’s ours.” He shocks me, and I just look at him. “What do you think?”
“This should be fun,” Lizzie says from behind me, coming in and grabbing a stool from under the counter.
“I don’t understand,” I say, looking at him confused.
“You hate my house,” he says to me.
“I don’t hate your house,” I say. “I just …”
“You hate his house,” Lizzie says, and I turn to glare at her. “What? Just last week, you came down the steps cursing about his house,” she reminds me.
“I called him for ten minutes straight, and he didn’t hear me,” I argue back.
“You were yelling at him from the west wing,” Lizzie says.
“I could have been lying on the floor dying, and no one would have heard me.” I put my hands on my hips. “Besides, who has a house that big for one person?”
“Um, I live there also.” She puts up her hand.
“Anyway,” Nico says, tired of us going back and forth. “You hate my house, and you always say how you want a home.”
“So you bought me a house.” I look at him. “Without talking to me about it.”
“Let me show you the bedrooms,” he says, ignoring the last part I just said.
“Good luck,” Lizzie says. “Actually, I’m going home.” She gets up. “See you guys tomorrow.” She walks out with her hand up to wave goodbye, grabbing the car keys on her way out.
He grabs my hand and pulls me up the stairs and toward the end of the hall to the master bedroom. “There are only three bedrooms.”
“We are only two people who use one bedroom,” I say, and he just looks over at me.
“You have a whole bedroom full of clothes,” he reminds me.
“I would move them into your room, because you have ten empty bedrooms,” I remind him. “So.” He just laughs.
I look around the big bedroom with a king-size bed and white bench in front of it. “I can’t,” I say, walking to check out the average-size bathroom. “You bought this without even talking to me.”
“I want you to feel at home,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets. “And if you were to faint, I could hear you in this house.”