Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
The sharp buzz of my phone jolted me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the phone’s screen. The name “Lauren Lee” popped up, and I hesitated before answering. She represented today’s responsibility, something I wanted to avoid if only Dash could parachute out of the plane to make my sex dreams a reality in that moment.
“We’re adding a second balloon arch leading into your side of the property, guiding people to the reception area in your backyard.”
“That’s fine,” I replied, though my thoughts were far from decorations.
They circled back to Daisy Mae, the bride-to-be, and my unresolved feelings about her impending marriage. She was too young, far too young, to be tying the knot with her service member boyfriend and moving halfway across the world. I had always imagined a different path for her—college classes, a degree, a life of her own before settling down. But she was in love, deeply so, and they had been inseparable for the last four years. Who was I to stand in the way?
“The chairs are here being set up with the round tables for the reception. They have the table drapes. The bands each have a portable floor. I think the buffet is set up. The food arrives about twenty minutes before we start. The flowers are here now. The cake…”
“What’s Scott doin’?”
“He’s bouncing between trying to convince Daisy Mae to change her mind and helping the valet company rope off the parking area. He’s not taking this well.”
“I know. I wanted somethin’ different for her, but I honestly don’t know what that is,” I said, staring at the sliding glass doors, opening and closing randomly with no one coming anywhere around. “I’ve been dedicated to Dash since I was fifteen. It’s not easy, but I suspect no one’s life is great all the time. A different road might only mean bullshit comin’ at her in other ways. And livin’ in Italy is gonna be badass,” I said, understanding my sexual quest in a seedy motel was no longer possible.
My imagination really enjoyed the mental imagery of fucking Dash so hard, for so long, that he needed medical care.
We needed to be home, helping everyone get ready for Daisy Mae’s big afternoon today. The wedding was planned to start at about two in the afternoon, in Scott’s backyard. The reception followed, ending at about nine o’clock. Daisy Mae was taking an early flight to Italy with her guy tomorrow morning.
“Here comes pouty Scott. I’ll see you two when you get here. I need Dash to take over the organizational part of the planning. I have to do everyone’s hair before the wedding and do all my children’s hair. It’s going to take hours.”
“Dash will probably sneak off and leave me in charge while he slides in line to get his hair done.”
“I took care of him last weekend. He won’t need a refresh until next weekend.”
“We’ll see,” I said as a text message came through. “Go. We’ll be home as soon as he lands.”
“Bye, Beau. Thank you for everything. I don’t know where we’d be without you in our lives,” she said, tears in her voice. The feelings of appreciation and love were what the four of us all did really well. It was honestly the foundation that built everything we stood on today.
“Lauren…” The sweet sentiment welled within me, not easily meshing with the sexual demands my mind was still lost within, but I did smile, even if she didn’t see it. “Bye.”
I navigated to my notifications. Dash had texted me.
“We’re still in the air circling. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever replied to a text faster.
“You bought an internet package?” I replied. That had to cost as much as the hotel I’d found. “You know that’s expensive.”
“Something’s happened down there.”
Then came another. “It’s going to be at least twenty more minutes before we land.”
The third. “Meet me in baggage claim.”
Well, hell.
“I found a motel two blocks from here. I thought we could get it on.” I replied, knowing I was the only person who ever typed paragraphs in text format. “Because you said you were arriving at seven twenty-five. Lauren’s already wanting us to get home for the wedding. You have to land right now to make it happen. I need adult interaction.”
I pushed send, never feeling more unreasonable in my life.
“Oh, I’d really like a quickie in a motel alone.”
Then another. “I’ve missed you bad this time.”
Another text arrived seconds later. “I should be landed with baggage by nine thirty.”
Then came. “I wanna fuck your mouth.”
And. “Delete that text so the kids don’t see it.”
Fuck. Nine thirty. I sat back, dejected, staring at baggage claim. We had an hour drive home. If we stopped, even making it fast, we wouldn’t be home before eleven thirty. We had to get the kids ready, dress ourselves, make final adjustments to the house, the yard, and help in whatever Scott had going on. We didn’t have time.