Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 88807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
He starts the car, doing his best to fight off a smile. He's not doing a very good job of it. “No. You'll see when we get there.”
“You know I don't like surprises.”
“That's not true. You don't like not knowing what's coming next. There's a difference.”
“Can you blame me? Honestly.”
“No, I can't,” he admits. “But don't you know by now you can trust me? I'm not setting you up for a letdown.” His fingers tap against the steering wheel, and unless my ears deceive me, he even starts humming to himself as he drives to the house Cynthia has been renting since the wedding. I invited her to come live with us, but she decided she wanted her own space. I have a feeling it had more to do with the mixed feelings between her and Christian, not to mention everything Samuele put her through. He's been dead all this time, but he still looms large. There are moments when I almost expect to see him coming around the corner wearing that cold, imperious expression he managed to perfect somehow.
As always, Cynthia’s first questions are about the baby. “How are you feeling? Did you get any sleep?” She slides into the back seat before leaning forward to kiss my cheek.
“I just talked to you on the phone this morning, remember?”
“I thought you said you were going to try to take a nap.”
“I swear, you're no better than he is.” I jerk my chin in my husband's direction.
“Far be it from me to care whether my wife is healthy and getting all the rest she needs.” He rolls his eyes, but his grin gives him away. Whatever he's taking me to, he's ridiculously excited about it. I can't help but feed off that energy. It must be something really good if he feels this strongly about it.
“Are you kidding me? I'm surprised you let me do anything at all, Mr. Protective.”
Cynthia lets out a knowing laugh. “Like you don't love it. We both know it makes you feel good to have others fawn over the way you are, so don't pretend otherwise.”
It's times like this I wonder why it ever seemed like such a good idea for the two of them to be friends. All they seem to want to do is gang up on me.
“Do you have any idea where we're going?” I ask her, craning my neck to see over my shoulder. I can always tell when she's lying by the defensive hunch of her shoulders.
There's no hunch this time. “Do you think he would tell me?”
“Only because I know you would want to tell her.”
She snorts, rolling her eyes. “I think we all know I'm experienced when it comes to keeping things to myself.”
“That's not the kind of secret I'm talking about, which you know very well.” I have to say, he's learning to control his reactions. As recently as our wedding day, I would never have imagined him capable of avoiding an outburst when someone contradicts him. “Happier secrets are more difficult to contain.”
“So it's a happy secret?” I ask, nudging him.
“No, I'm taking you to a sewage plant. I thought you would enjoy the smell since everything seems to set you off nowadays.”
He's not wrong about that. Things that never used to bother me suddenly turn my stomach. Even the smell of coffee. Cynthia swears that's perfectly normal, and everything I've read online backs that up, but I can't wait until things go back to normal.
Considering I'm going to get a baby out of the whole thing, it's not that much of a sacrifice.
So this is what it’s like, being part of a family. It’s been so long since the last time I felt like I had one. I hardly remember those days, and I’ve tried. Ever since the wedding, since learning where I really came from, I’ve combed through my memories and tried to deepen them. Being here in Italy, I thought the process might be easier. Seeing familiar places, that sort of thing. And it’s helped a little. Just not enough to help me remember little moments from when I was a kid and the people I knew as my parents were still breathing.
This is the next best thing. Joking around with my mom and my husband while my baby sleeps soundly. Of course they are, now that I’m not trying to fall asleep. The dance party usually starts up after dinner. I don’t mind that, either, even if I miss sleeping. I get the feeling I should get used to going without as much as I want. Things aren’t going to get easier once the baby arrives.
“Just a few minutes more.” His left leg bounces up and down now. The closer we get, the more excited he is.
I’ve never seen him like this. This has to be better than good, whatever it is.