Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“Question for you,” I said, catching her hand again. “We’ve known each other for most of our lives. If we buy the bar together, we’re stuck with each other. Maybe not forever, but for a long time.”
“I know.”
“I can’t run a business with you and watch you fuck some other guy, let alone marry him or carry his babies. I’ve always known you’ll settle down someday, and I’m not lying when I say I wish you the best in life. But once you marry someone else, I don’t want to be trapped in a business partnership with you. That’s my definition of hell.”
Her eyes widened, and she swallowed. “So, what’s your question?”
I paused, the words on the tip of my tongue. Once I said them out loud, everything would change. Either she’d be with me or she wouldn’t.
Fuck it.
“If we’re going to buy the Starkwood together, we should get married.”
“Eli—”
“Hear me out, first, okay? I just think that—”
“Eli—”
“Just listen to me. Then—”
“Eli, I’m trying to—”
“Christ, Peaches. Just give me—”
“Shut the fuck up!” she burst out, and I could hear the laughter in her voice. “I keep trying to say yes, but you’re so in love with the sound of your own damned voice that you can’t even—”
My hand caught the back of her head, ending the argument with a kiss. Her arms came around me, pulling me down over her body as she collapsed backward onto the bed.
Time seemed to freeze in that instant, marking the spot where my life transitioned from before to after. Was this really happening?
“Hey!” Peaches said, snapping her fingers at me. “Pay attention.”
“What?”
“I asked if you were serious about me carrying babies,” she said. “But you were zoned out or something. Which isn’t exactly flattering, considering we’re in the middle of something physical here.”
“Um, probably,” I told her. “I mean, I’d like to have kids someday.”
“That’s good,” she said, biting her lip. “Because we didn’t use any condoms last night, and I just realized that I forgot to refill my prescription this month.”
I blinked, growing very still. “So, you could be pregnant…?”
“Theoretically,” she said. “I mean, people have sex all the time without getting knocked up. But it’s nice to know you wouldn’t be upset. At the very least, it seemed like something I should mention before we have sex again. Because that’s the direction this is heading, right?”
“Yeah, that was the plan,” I said. “Are you okay with it?”
Her eyes turned thoughtful, and then she started to nod slowly. “I think I am. We should do this, Eli.”
“What? Fuck? Buy the bar? Get married?”
“All of it. I want to do all of it.”
“Can we start with the fucking?” I asked.
“I think that can be arranged.”
Epilogue
One year later
~Peaches~
“Okay, you can look now,” Mom said. “What do you think?”
I opened my eyes, gasping at my reflection in the half-circle of mirrors strategically surrounding my little platform. I still looked like me, of course—same dark hair, although it’d gotten thicker. Same face, complete with a random zit on the chin. Same waistline I’d had when Eli and I had finally admitted how we felt about each other.
Hadn’t seen that for a while.
Kinda nice to realize it still existed, even if it took a corset to coax it out.
My boobs were another story. They’d always been generous, and they’d gotten more so with a side of backache once the babies arrived. I’d come to accept this new reality, even if I wasn’t totally comfortable with it. Usually, I just threw on a big T-shirt and called it good.
This dress was a hell of a lot more tailored than a T-shirt, though. I took a deep breath—well, as deep as I could—watching first with awe and then something closer to fear as my chest expanded upward and outward from the dress, yet somehow didn’t break free in an explosion of overpriced fabric.
“Do you have any idea how much money you could make stripping right now?” Megan asked.
“Not enough to cover daycare for twins,” I told her, turning to the side to study my profile. Holy shit, was that really me in the mirror? Nipped-in tummy, massive rack. Hips that flared out just the right amount, all draped in a classic white mermaid dress so perfect a princess could’ve worn it.
“Do you see that?” I asked. “Or am I hallucinating?”
“See what?” Mom asked.
“My waist,” I said, feeling almost giddy.
“Of course, I can see your waist,” she said. “Don’t tell me you aren’t happy with your figure, Peaches, because you look amazing. I know you’re frustrated that you haven’t lost all the weight yet. But that’s not realistic. Women are supposed to have some extra while they’re nursing. It took a million years of evolution to create those curves of yours, and you should be proud of them.”
I laughed, shaking my head.