Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
He just laughed.
“The lasagna was delicious,” Tate says, holding a forkful up in the air. “Sorry I got here late. My plane was delayed.”
“Then hire your own plane next time,” Jason says, entering our kitchen. He squeezes my butt before wrapping his arms around me from behind. “What would Sammy say if he could see you now, Mimi? Sitting between two men who clearly have the hots for you.”
Tate bumps Mimi’s arm playfully.
“Who cares? I’m too old to be monogamous. I’m living it up while I’m still kickin’.”
Ripley’s dimple sets on his cheek.
It’s been a week since our wedding, and every day has only gotten better. Mimi’s practically a toddler, buzzing around on her golf cart that Jason had fashioned with a radio. She cruises the neighborhood, listening to Sinatra. You can hear her coming from the street over. And Jason and I have gotten into an easy flow. Our routine begins with a kiss good morning before he leaves a couple of hours before me, and it ends with us cuddled in bed and watching documentaries. Will it always be this way? I don’t know. But every day that passes, the more my hope grows that it will.
Ripley rises from the table, carrying his plate to the sink. “So are you going to get behind the Royals purchase or what?” he asks Jason.
I peer up at my husband.
“I still think it’s a bad idea,” Jason says, sighing. “You all support it, I know. Trust me, I understand. We’re always supportive of one another. But I really think we need to let a little time pass before we make big splashes.”
“Lincoln Landry has the Arrows charging full speed ahead,” Ripley says.
My brows tug together. “Wait a second. Are Lincoln Landry and Ford related? It just occurred to me that they have the same last name.”
“They’re brothers,” Jason says. “Lincoln was a professional baseball player. One of the best centerfielders in the league.”
“Future Hall of Famer,” Ripley adds. “And he played his whole career for the Arrows. It was like coming home for him.”
That’s great, but I’m still stuck on Ford Landry, Jason’s friend, and the owner of Landry Security who handles the Brewer family’s security, being brothers with Lincoln. What a small, wild world.
“Speaking of coming and going, I’m heading to Vegas on Monday,” Ripley says. “Peter Zobreski asked me to come out. He has a few new fighters with a lot of potential, but they aren’t taking care of themselves. He wants me to assess them and put together diet and exercise plans that they’ll actually use.”
“That sounds like fun.”
Jason pinches me at the hip, making me squirm.
“What?” I giggle, leaning into his hand.
“No fighters for you.”
I smack his hands away. “I need to pitch the laundry from the washer to the dryer. I’ll be right back.”
“What happened to Mara?” Ripley asks.
“Nothing happened to Mara,” I call out over my shoulder.
Jason’s voice is loud enough for me to hear as I walk away. “Chloe’s adamant about doing laundry herself.”
“That’s cool,” Ripley says.
I don’t hear the rest of their conversation, but I know what it will be—Jason’s frustration that I want to do laundry, dishes, and sweep off the patio. Ripley will be amused but will ultimately take Jason’s side because whether Jason knows it or not, Ripley might be his second biggest fan … behind me.
Flipping the laundry takes two minutes, and I’m back in the kitchen. Mimi’s getting to her feet, clinging to Tate’s arm like she might topple over at any minute. I give her a look, and she grins, tossing me a wink.
“Where do you think you’re going, Meems?” I ask.
“Tate’s going to take me out in the golf cart. He volunteered.”
“What if Sammy sees you and gets upset?”
“Oh, a little jealousy never hurt anyone.”
All I can do is shake my head at her. Seeing her like this makes me wish we could’ve hung out when she was younger. I bet she was fun.
“Don’t be making out with her or anything,” Ripley calls after Tate. “Try to control yourself.”
“Ripley, you hush your little mouth!” Mimi shouts back just before the door closes behind them.
Tate holds his finger behind his back and flips Ripley off. The three of us laugh.
“Whose phone is that?” Ripley asks, his brows pulling together. “It’s rung three times all the way through.”
“Mine is on the counter by the sink,” I say.
“It’s mine. I left it in my office. Let me go turn it off,” Jason says.
I watch his back muscles move beneath his shirt as he walks away.
“How’s marriage life treating you?” Ripley asks, rinsing his plate before putting it in the dishwasher.
“Better than I expected.”
“Did you not expect to be happy you married my brother?” He laughs.
“I didn’t know what to expect, but I’m a very happy woman.”
“Glad to hear it.” He takes a seat on the counter. “He’s been different this past week. Less moody. More pliable. Not saying he’s been friendly or anything …”