Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
By the time I make it to the mailbox, I’m wishing I would have just brought my truck or one of the utility vehicles. It’s hot as hell out here today, but that’s expected for late summer in Texas.
On my way back to the house, I sift through the mail. The gift I ordered isn’t here, which is good since she’s at the house, and I don’t have to worry about hiding it from her. I open the electric bill and notice it’s about the same amount as last month. The rest is junk mail. Magazines, offers for credit cards, publishers clearing house, hell, I didn’t even know that still existed. Stepping up on the porch, I look at the last envelope in the pile. I’m expecting it to be more trash. However, this one looks more official than the others. Looking at the return address, I see it’s from the County Clerk of Nevada. Curious, I rip into the envelope.
Inside there is a certificate of marriage. Why in the hell am I getting a certificate of marriage? Skimming over the document, I get to the names, and my eyes widen. I blink hard, once, twice, three times, and every time the same names appear on the paper.
Marriage Certificate
Rip Alan Callahan
McKenna Grace Dawson
“Holy fuck,” I mutter. I stare down at my name and McKenna’s, trying to decipher what I’m seeing. We’re married? We got married in Vegas? How do I not remember that? I need a minute. Sitting on the top step, that’s when I notice that my sister's car is here. Good, I need to process this before I tell McKenna. She’s going to flip out on me. Not because she’s mad, but I know her. She already thinks we’re moving fast. Sure she loves me, but this… it’s not just something we can tear up and be done with.
She’s my wife.
McKenna Callahan.
Fuck me, but do I love the sound of that.
I can work with this. I was going to ask her to marry me anyway. I didn’t know how or when, but I met with a jeweler yesterday. I was so pumped afterward I had to call her at the office just to hear her voice. Now, instead of planning to ask her to marry me, I need to convince her to stay married to me. Now that the idea is settling in my mind, I know that’s what I have to do. If she wants another wedding for our families, we can do that too. But I don’t want this to go away. I want her to be my wife.
Standing, I smile. I need to tell her. I need to show her that I’m not the least bit upset about this news. No. In fact, I’m elated. I wish I could remember that night. I hate that I don’t remember marrying her or our first time together, but that’s one night out of the rest of our lives. We can’t dwell on the past. All we can do is move forward, and I want to move forward with her as McKenna Callahan.
“Here goes,” I say before rushing into the house. I drop all the mail on the table as soon as I enter the front door, kick off my boots, and go in search of my wife. “Kenna!” I call out. She’s not in the kitchen or the living room. I hear footsteps upstairs. Laramie must have wanted to get some of her things that she left here now that she’s officially living with her husband.
Who would have thought we’d be married weeks apart? Or that I would be married first? Regardless, I know I’m in for a battle of wills with McKenna. She’s going to go all sexy lawyer on me and tell me she’ll handle it.
I don’t want her to handle it.
“Kenna!” I call again, taking the stairs two at a time. I stop at the top and follow their voices into the spare bedroom. “Hey.” I smile at my girl and my sister, who are sitting on the bed. The smile drops from my face when I see that they’re both crying. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Laramie smiles at me. “Nothing is wrong.”
I take her in, trying to see if she’s lying, but she seems to be sincere. My eyes to go McKenna, and she’s looking at her lap, wringing her hands together. “Baby?” Her head whips up, and there’s shock written all over her face. “Kenna, baby, what’s wrong?”
Her shoulders stiffen. “I’m fine. We’re just… emotional.”
“I call bullshit.” Reaching out, I swipe my thumb across her cheek, wiping at her tears. I turn to look at Laramie, and that’s when I see them. Pregnancy tests. Lots of and lots of pregnancy tests. My heart begins to race, and if this means what I think it means, my great day just turned fantastic.