Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Oh God.
He was talking children!
I melted under him.
“You want kids?” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“How many?” I asked.
“However many you wish to carry for me.”
Oh God!
I stared up at the shadowed planes and angles of his face in the moonlight.
He was no less gorgeous in shadow.
And I loved this.
However.
“Sophronia?”
“It means sensible. We can call her Phronsie.”
Uh.
No.
“Yes on Noble and Archer,” I decreed, because those were shit-hot boy names. “Endeavor is a maybe. It’s rad, but not sure how to make it a nickname. No on Journey, or I’ll never get ‘Don’t Stop Believin‘’ out of my head.”
He chuckled.
It sounded and felt nice.
Then he took us to our sides but kept me gathered close.
“Grace?” I suggested.
“Pretty, but unimaginative. Sorry, sweetheart. You know the rules.”
I did, and I’d always thought the Talyn penchant for naming their offspring unusual names was just…unusual.
But now I was seeing it was all kinds of fun.
“How about Verity?” I suggested.
“A contender, but I think I have a great-great-great aunt with that name.”
“Gilda?”
“Hmm,” he hummed.
Another contender.
“Genesis is interesting,” he said. “We can call her Genny.”
I wasn’t sure about Genesis, but it was different. And Genny was sweet.
“Constance is also good,” I said.
“Yes, it is.”
“But it’s also kinda normal. So what about Lyric?”
That got me another “hmm,” so that meant it was another contender.
Battle followed up his hmm with, “Fury could be for a boy or a girl. Though, I like it better for a girl.”
Fury was a kick-ass name. Especially for a girl.
“That’s an option,” I agreed. “Electra?”
“Maybe.”
He wasn’t keen on that one. And it kinda didn’t fit the theme.
“I want to add Shepherd and Hero to boys’ names,” I declared.
“Acceptable,” he grunted.
I smiled.
And we whispered in the moonlight, so caught up in the importance of what we were discussing, what was happening, what was growing…
We again missed the dancing lights coming from the ballroom.
CHAPTER 24
THE AFTERMATH
The next morning, Battle and I walked into the breakfast room hand in hand to see Prue at the table, which was covered with sketchpads.
“Oh my God!” I nearly shouted, letting Battle go and rushing in. “Is this your work?”
I reached for a sketchpad as Prue answered, “Some of it. These are the roughs of the stories and illustrations. I like to hand draw my ideas before I get down to it. Most of it is digital.”
With a sketchpad in my hands and Battle’s hands on me, he guided me into a chair and went to the sideboard.
“With all of this out on the table, can I assume I can look at it?” I asked enthusiastically.
Prue smiled happily at me. “Yes.”
I eagerly started flipping.
Okay, I immediately saw what she meant about “early” work when referring to what she’d previously given me.
What she gave me was stellar.
This was off the charts. I’d frame any of these for my wall.
“Holy shit, honey, this is…wow.”
“Even I’m kinda proud of that one,” she mumbled.
Proud?
The English and their understatements.
Yeesh.
I kept flipping even after Battle put a plate full of food in front of me, one in front of him and seated himself beside me.
He then reached to the coffeepot to pour us both a cup.
Eventually, the bacon called to me, not to mention caffeine, and I set the sketchpad carefully away from anything that might mar it.
“You say you have that on digital?” I asked.
Prue gestured to the pads with her fork. “All of it.”
“Perfect,” I replied while spreading lime marmalade on my toast. “I can look through them and we can strategize which ones to send my agent.”
While I was saying this, Chassie roamed in sporting a pair of cute pajama bottoms with little pink and peach polka dots on them, a peach babydoll tee and a frizzy head of hair that was exponentially frizzier after sleeping on it.
I’d never seen someone come to the breakfast table at The Downs like it was what it was, the breakfast table of a family.
I loved it.
Especially coming from Chassie.
“Coffee, sweetheart?” Battle asked as Chassie roamed right up to the sideboard.
“Please,” she answered, lifting a lid and peering inside. “You need to teach Patsy how to make your pancakes, Vivi.”
“Whenever you want them, I can make them for you,” I replied.
“Or you could teach me how to make them,” she said while spooning scrambled eggs on her plate.
“I’d love that,” I returned.
Prue clapped. “And me. Teach me. I also want to learn how to make toast and oatmeal.”
“We’ll have some cooking lessons next Sunday when Emily is gone,” I decided.
“You’ll have them whenever you feel like you’re up for a break from your book,” Battle butted in. “You’re being lovely as usual, darling,” he purred to me. “But don’t let anything take away from your process.”
I’d warned him about my process since I was starting the book tomorrow, and I didn’t want him to be caught off guard by the obsessive nature of my work.