Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“Aye.” I glanced over my shoulder to find that he liked that idea. A lot. “Don’t get excited. I’m thinking I’ll get it once we’re finished having kids.”
He raised a questioning eyebrow.
I smiled coyly. “I was thinking your name and then our kids’ names. Three, just so you know. And the names will make the shape of a heart.”
“Three kids?” Baird’s grin was big and beaming and my heart melted.
“What do you think?”
He smoothed a hand over my hip as he guided himself to my entrance. His voice was rough as he replied, “I’m thinking why stop at three?”
My answering laughter cut off on a gasp as Baird pushed inside me. His lovemaking this time was harder, a little rougher, as he filled my ears with vows of love that drove me toward the peak.
As I shattered around him and felt him release inside me, his heavy weight pushing against my back as he gave me everything, I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that my future included a heart tattoo and a love beyond measure.
A love that grew from friendship into something deep, abiding, and filled with respect and kindness. That it just so happened to come with this kind of passion made me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
All my life I’d been looking for a place where I could be fully me, and I could curse myself for not realizing sooner that my place was Baird McMillan’s heart.
I knew now, though.
And I was never, ever going to forget it or take it for granted or let a day go by when he didn’t know my heart was that place for him too.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
MAIA
As much as I hated the fact that I didn’t have a real sense of closure about the situation between me and Becky—why she targeted me, for instance—I walked into the office feeling lighter than I had in nearly two years. In fact, I hadn’t quite realized how stressed I was about my working relationship with Becky until I didn’t have to deal with her anymore. I looked forward to work again in a way I hadn’t in a long time.
Colleagues, especially those who had worked closely with Becky in marketing, had come forward to whisper in my ear about Becky’s escalating behavior over the last couple of years. Apparently, she’d taken credit for the work of assistants, had been passive aggressive toward more than just me, had bullied assistants into doing work for her, threatening their jobs if they didn’t, had forced one of the marketing assistants to work the day after her gran passed away, laughed at an intern who was crying over the death of her dog, and a million other little things that had all added up to an uncomfortable workplace situation.
Becky fished for compliments when she wasn’t already complimenting herself. They told me she was self-important and how she was preoccupied with looks and the way she was perceived but also seemed to have an unhealthy obsession with me. If I was brought up in conversation, she’d randomly talk about how gorgeous I obviously thought I was, how I thought I was better than her, how she worked harder than me but no one recognized that. To the point they were all talking about it in the marketing department. I wished they’d mentioned it to me at the time.
Between these facts and her behavior toward me, escalating from mild comments to outright lying and eventually sabotaging me, I spoke to Lily. Lily was cautious as ever about an amateur diagnosis, especially of someone she herself hadn’t met or counselled, but did say Becky showed signs of narcissistic personality disorder. I took that to mean that I would never get the closure I desired. Ultimately, I had to ask myself if answers were even worth pursuing.
They were not.
The atmosphere at work was how I remembered it. Hectic and stressful but fun and creative, and there was a sense of lightness and togetherness in the team again. Therefore, I was happy to leave Becky in the past.
We were a week out from the wedding, and I was nervous. Not about marrying Baird—I knew it was normal to go into your wedding with doubts and fears, and I always thought I’d be that person. However, I could honestly say, hand on heart, that I desperately wanted to be Baird’s wife and to know that he was my person for the rest of forever. The nerves were more about the public spectacle. The gossip and negativity had died down a little, but I knew the wedding would stir things up again. And yes, there was a big part of me that was sad that our wedding had been orchestrated by other people and that we’d been limited to the choices they’d set before us.