Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
He cleared his throat, his spine ramrod straight. “It’s fine.”
I drifted to the industrial walk-in fridge, retrieved a cold brew, and plopped beside him, sending my best winning smile his way. He frowned at his screen. I was a thorn in his side. Little did he know, I was about to make him bleed.
“So.” I slurped the coffee loud, a major pet peeve of his since we were kids. “I was thinking … for our wedding …”
He ground his teeth through the obnoxious slurps, forcing himself to look up at me. “Yes?”
“Dallas mentioned you hosted her wedding here.”
“I did,” he drew out the words, his apprehension obvious.
“She sent me a binder of your emails printed out. The ones you sent her with suggestions for the wedding.”
I left out the part where we’d giggled on the plane about how ridiculous most of them were and collectively agreed that Oliver needed to step up his trolling game. I, on the other hand, needed no help in this domain.
Ollie closed his laptop, choosing his next words carefully. “Those were a joke.”
“Were they? I found some great ideas in the binder.” I conjured the eight-inch binder and plopped it on the table. It rattled the entire frame with its weight. “Plus, Dal said you seemed enthusiastic about them, so I thought I’d incorporate as much as I can into the wedding.”
“Dal?” he echoed, watching me flip mindlessly through the pages.
“Yeah. Her nickname, silly. I’m not gonna call my best friend by her government name. I just … I don’t …” I shrugged. “I feel so blessed to be in a relationship with you.”
“You do?”
“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You would never let me down. Never lie to me. Never abandon me like my parents and Cooper did. You put me first, always.” I stared right into his eyes, watching him flinch with each word I speared him with. “I love you, Oliver.”
He said nothing.
What could he, when he was absolutely none of these traits?
I sighed, stopping on a page I’d bookmarked. “I don’t want to be a bridezilla and make the wedding all about what I want, so I’d rather simply take your suggestions and run with them. Not that I even remember what I want anyway. This solves that problem.”
“Yeah. Totally.” He seemed lost in thought, still caught on my earlier description of him.
I leaned over the table and snapped him out of it with a hard kiss to his cheek. “It’s like you were thinking ahead of time when you compiled this.”
“What I was thinking was that I’d fuck with Romeo and Dal, since neither particularly wanted to marry one another at that point in time.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. They’re obviously in love. Who would marry someone for any other reason than love?” I paused and forced eye contact, arching a brow. “You love me, right?”
He averted his eyes. “Of course.”
“What do you love most about me?”
“Your creativity. Perhaps you could apply that creativity to plan a wedding from scratch.” He reached for the binder, trying to pry it from my fingers. “You don’t need this.”
I swatted his hand away. “Don’t be ridiculous. You already put in all this work. It would be a shame for it to go to waste.”
“No, really.” For the first time, he seemed genuinely panicked, probably remembering all his foul suggestions. “It’s no problem.”
“I want us to perform the ‘Love is an Open Door’ duet.” I paused. “You know, the song from Frozen.”
His brows shot up. “You want us to sing a Frozen song?”
“Yes.”
“At our wedding?”
I nodded. “It’s a good duet. You’re no Santino Fontana, but I already signed us up for some singing lessons. She’s a reputable coach. Broadway actors swear by her. Her waitlist is wild, but I pulled some strings.”
“Shoot.” His eyebrows would be glued to the ceiling at this rate. “I don’t think I can swing it. Busy time at work.”
“Don’t worry about your work. I already contacted your assistant and asked him to block the appropriate times for our sessions.” I waved him off and snatched his macchiato, only to make a face and spit my sip back into his cup. With an exaggerated grimace, I pushed it back to him. “Oopsie. Just remembered I don’t like macchiatos. I’m making such good progress, aren’t I?”
“Astounding.” He stared into his backwashed coffee before flicking his eyes back up to me. “Wait.” Ollie frowned. “Didn’t Princess Anna not even marry that dude at the end of the duet?”
“Correct.” I paused, surprised. “How do you know? Do you have nieces and nephews?”
“Uh, no.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his high cheekbones a little flushed. “How would I not know? It’s general knowledge.”
“For a middle-aged man without kids and young relatives?” I narrowed my eyes. “Hardly.”
“First – I’m not middle-aged. Second – fine. Frozen on Ice was fucking hot, okay? What’s not to like? Two hot sisters in a cat fight, ice skaters with great asses, and snacks.” He gestured to himself. “I am only human.”