Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Thanks, Foxx.”
He nods and closes the door behind him.
Blakely is still in the bedroom, finishing her manicure and pedicure. Bianca suggested a little pampering for my new wife, and Astrid arranged for a nail technician to arrive after Blakely’s nap. It took everything I had not to bother her while she slept. Lucky for her, I had a lot to get done … including this.
I open the box with the Siggy logo drawn in a delicate white script. Inside is a light pink diamond ring with two baguettes on either side. Surrounding the stones is a ring of smaller diamonds that trails down the platinum band. A tiny emerald is embedded on the side, a trademark of the high-end jewelry boutique that my mom and sister love.
I haven’t seen the ring in person until now. The plane left the hangar in Tennessee, made a quick stop in Savannah to pick up the ring and Foxx, and then jetted to Las Vegas. Foxx locked it in a safe, and I didn’t get a chance to look at the most expensive piece of jewelry I’ve ever, and probably will ever, purchase.
It’s worth it, though. Or, it will be if she loves it.
My stomach flips at the thought of giving Blakely Evans a wedding ring. It should scare the hell out of me. I go out of my way to ensure that no woman ever reads too much into our relationship, lest they get the wrong idea and think it’ll become something permanent. But I’m not nervous. Hell, I might be a little excited to watch her reaction.
That’s what scares me.
“Hey, Mom,” I say after picking up my ringing phone on the table in the foyer.
“Hi, kiddo. How are you?”
Her voice, calm and kind, makes me smile. “I’m on my honeymoon, you know. It’s kind of rude for you to call.”
“I can’t help it. I’m excited. I can’t wait to meet your wife and take her shopping and invite her over for dinner and—”
“Whoa, lady. Chill out a little, will you?” I chuckle. “You can’t come at her with all that at once. You gotta ease into it. Maybe start with hello and work from there.”
“So I shouldn’t mention that I’ve been going through her social media, right?”
I shake my head. “Why would you do that?”
“I have to know what my daughter-in-law likes, Renn. Will she want coffee or tea? Does she like dogs, or should I put Willard and Winifred in the kennel when she visits? And it helps to know what she looks like …”
Sighing, I lean against the wall and stare across the ocean.
Unlike my father, my mother has been all-in from the start. It’s unsurprising, being that this is her dream. But what is a little curious is that she’s never once asked me if it was real. And I wonder why.
“Mom?”
“What, sweetie?”
“Why have you never asked me about the Vegas wedding to a woman you’ve never met? I mean, I appreciate the support, but I do find it a little odd.”
She laughs softly. “I figured you got enough of that from your father. Besides, you are an intelligent, capable man, Renn. You’ve known Blakely for years, so I knew there was a solid friendship there.” She breathes through the phone. “You seem happy. At the end of the day, that’s all I really care about.”
A smile slips across my lips.
“Are you happy?” she asks.
Voices whisper through the house just before a door shuts. I glance over my shoulder as Blakely enters the room.
My God.
“Renn?” Mom asks.
I clear my throat. “Hang on.” I drop the phone to my side and turn to my wife.
Her face is bright and beautiful—refreshed. A blue tank top with thin straps accentuating her dainty shoulders hangs close to her body. Every curve, every bend and dip, is on full display.
“That was the most relaxing thing I’ve experienced in a long time,” she says, padding barefoot across the floor. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”
“So you enjoyed it?”
She laughs. “Yeah. Of course, I did.”
“Then I had to do that.”
“Renn! What’s going on?” Mom says, her voice growing louder.
Shit. I chuckle, bringing the phone back to my ear. “Sorry, Mom. Blakely just came in.”
“Oh, may I please say hello?”
“I don’t know,” I say, teasing her. “I’m afraid of what you might say.”
She scoffs. “Renn Patrick, you underestimate me if you think there’s no chance of me having Jason fly me to Australia to meet your wife.”
I laugh, my eyes trained on Blakely. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
“My mom wants to say hello,” I say, tilting my mouth away from the phone. “You don’t have to humor her.”
“Renn …” she warns from the other side of the world.
Blakely holds a hand with sheer pink nails. “Gimme.”
I give her the phone. “Is the phone all you want? Because you, my lady, are smoking hot.”