Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Diego winks. “I like her, Oz. She’s a keeper.” He pivots.
I take Maren’s hand, and we follow him into the garage, where he nabs my keys from a hook inside a cabinet.
“I’m going to miss Debbie,” he says, handing me the keys.
“Debbie?” Maren narrows her eyes.
“Diego named my Land Rover Defender Debbie,” I say, leading her behind the garage to Debbie.
“This is your vehicle?” Maren asks with a shocked expression. “It’s . . .”
I offer her multiple choices. “A classic? Beautiful? Magnificent?”
She mumbles with a nervous laugh and a tiny headshake, “Unexpected.”
“All the best things in life are.” I kiss her forehead, which makes her blush before I open the front passenger door for her. “Tell Lola I’m leaving without her if she doesn’t get her buns out here.”
Diego laughs, glancing at his watch. “It’s almost noon. I’m going to take a break for lunch. I’ll make Lola something too. Why don’t you take the afternoon for yourselves? It’s a gorgeous day for a Sunday drive.”
“She won’t even know I’m gone,” I say, shutting Maren’s door and making my way to the other side. “I owe you one. Hell, I probably owe you a million.”
Diego tucks his thumbs in the back pockets of his dirty jeans. “Oz?”
I start to open my door. “Yeah?”
His usual smart-ass expression vanishes, replaced with a sincere smile that guys rarely give to each other. “I’m happy for you.”
I nod several times. “Thanks.”
“A Sunday drive?” Maren says when I climb into my Rover.
I slip on my sunglasses. “Nothing beats a Sunday drive,” I say as Debbie starts right up. “My parents used to take Sunday drives before my mom lost most of her sight and my dad traded the great outdoors for a barstool. I remember my mom rolling down the window, tipping her head back, eyes closed, and smiling as the wind hit her face and played in her hair.” I pull out of the driveway.
“Let’s pick up your mom.”
I glance at Maren. “Seriously?”
She shrugs. “I haven’t met her. She doesn’t have to see well to feel the breeze on her face and hair.”
“You want to meet my mom today? Now?”
“You said it: one day at a time. I want to meet your mom and tell her how in love I am with her son and how much I adore her granddaughter beyond words. Then I want to meet your sister Jenny and her husband. And we should take Lola to a tearoom in London for her birthday. I might even know a rich guy with a jet who’d happily loan it to us.”
I focus on the vibration beneath me and the hum of the wind and tires. But I don’t smile. “I feel like you’re trying to outwoo me again. So impatient.”
She bites her bottom lip when I shoot her a sidelong glance.
“For the next few hours, you’re mine. All mine. I know a place where we can park and get naked in the back seat. Then I’ll show you my secret spot to pick huckleberries. And then we’ll pick up my mom and Lola for dinner. After that, we’ll take a sunset drive before returning my mom to her place. Jenny’s pregnant and due to have her first child in a few months, so we’ll see her after the baby arrives. And as for London, well, you’ve left me speechless on that one.”
Maren sighs. “I’m not done with physical therapy, but we can still get naked. Huckleberries sound pretty serious. I think they trump wildflowers.” She narrows her eyes. “And when are you and Lola moving in with me?”
I shrug. “I think it will happen when you marry me.”
She freezes. I don’t turn my head, but through the corner of my eye, I can see her holding stone still. I take great pride in her reaction.
“You, uh, you’re . . .” She clears her throat. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
“No.” I pull off the road into a parking area at a trailhead. “I’m not asking you to marry me.” I put my Rover in park, unbuckle, and angle my body to face hers. “But you are stealing all the moments. Saying I love you first. Asking me to move in with you. Suggesting you meet my mom and sister. London for Lola’s birthday. You got the cat my daughter wanted. And you were the one to ride with her in a car for the first time in over two years.”
Maren deflates with a tiny wince.
“So I’m calling dibs on this. Okay? Dibs on proposing. I’m not proposing today. It’s not on tomorrow’s agenda either. But I will be the one to propose. You have to give me something. So, for once, I need you to sit back, let me do the wooing, and let me decide when the epic moment will happen. Are you capable of that?”