Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 61149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“Or?”
“End of the month.”
“Or?”
“End of the quarter. Again, sales quotas for both of those.”
“Or?”
“Tuesdays. Sales teams are past the weekend rush, over the Monday maybe, and more willing to give the consumer the type of attention they tend to need. Kind of like certain mechanics.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever learned this much during a proposal,” mirthfully mumbles Eva.
“Or?” Nolan continues to repeat the phrase, attention never wavering.
“When you can afford one?”
“Or?”
“When you need one?”
“Or?”
“Fuck,” becoming more flustered pushes me to defensively bite, “Idontknow! When you want one!”
“Exactly.”
My jaw remains frozen in its lowered position.
“Sometimes it’s not about waitin’ for the perfect time of the year or a holiday or when something new distracts you or a certain day of the week or fuckin’ anything else other than simply wanting it in your life.” His thumbs gently stroke the areas underneath them. “And I want you and Rabbit wearin’ my rings and gettin’ called by names I’ve only dreamt about callin’ you and staying that way ‘til we’re nothin’ more than scrap metal rottin’ at a junkyard.”
Melting mindlessly occurs.
“And that’s the way it’s gonna be for me whether you say yes or not, Kid, ‘cause all this ring does is change your last name and remind other gearheads-”
“Or gearwhores,” Bunny sassily interjects.
“-that you already have a garage you park in.”
“That sounded sexual,” loudly whispers Val.
“That was absolutely sexual,” Garcia agrees.
Heat from the amount of attention as much as embarrassment for not waiting until later to bring up my apprehension tints my cheeks red, an action he instantly notices and hides by cupping my face. “You’re mine, Kipp.”
“And mine,” warmly leaves our girlfriend at the same time she places her palm adoringly on my thigh.
“I’m just offerin’ to upgrade your name to a newer model…”
This time it’s me who leans in towards him to coo, “Yes.”
Relief and excitement thrum through his stare, yet he doesn’t move, just verbally verifies, “Yes, what?”
“Yes, Miles Nolan,” I cheekily state. “I’ll let you upgrade my name to a newer model.”
“Definitely weird hearin’ my first name,” chuckles the man preparing to brush his lips against mine. “But I can’t wait for you to have my last.”
Despite the onlookers, our tongues don’t hesitate to touch.
Or tangle.
Or race to be the first to make the other groan.
The instant a whimper slides across his frantically moving muscle, he abruptly slips back.
Treats Bunny’s face to the same possessive hold.
Kisses her hard.
And fast.
And recklessly until she too can’t refrain from whimpering.
Afterward, Bunny and I engage in a briefer connection, spurring our room full of family – people who I will learn to let be family – to gleefully applaud.
Offer congratulations.
Inspect the rings once they’re officially on our left hands.
Officially telling the world we’re all on the same road.
In the same car.
Not interested in ever switching drivers again.
That we’re engaged.
Holy shit…
We’re really engaged!
Chapter 10
Kipp
“Kipp Nolan,” I murmur out loud to the group as much as myself during our ascent up to our apartment. “That sounds weird.” Bunny’s face cranes backwards over her shoulder to meet my gaze. “Doesn’t that sound weird?”
She simply giggles and squeezes my hand instead of answering.
“Is that how I’m supposed to introduce myself?” The click of our door opening occurs in my very brief pausing. “Is that how you’re gonna introduce yourself?” Our fiancé – that also feels weird – pushes open the blockade prompting me to point out, “You’re not Nolan Nolan ‘cause your first name is Miles-”
“Kinda forget you don’t just have one name like Cher,” teases my other fiancée while being guided by the hand into our home.
“Cher?” Sneers our grumpy ring giver. “You chose to compare my ass to Cher instead of Sting or Bono or Prince?”
“He changed his name to a symbol.”
“Mine would be a wrench.”
“Screwdriver,” corrects the woman we love at the same time I shut the door with us inside.
“Because I know how to screw?”
“Because you’re probably more useful to me as a drink.”
His heated growl becomes an easy opportunity to step back into the conversation. “You always introduce yourself as Nolan,” I continue, encouraging them to stop moving and redirect all their attention to me, “but you bein’ like ‘I’m Nolan’ and me bein’ like ‘I’m Kipp Nolan’ is fuckin’ weird.”
“This conversation is weird,” mumbles Nolan under his breath.
“It’s adorable,” argues Bunny.
“It’s like…are we brothers?” my head bounces around in contemplation. “Cousins?”
“Just gonna skip past the obvious other option given that he’s so many more tax seasons ahead of you?”
Abandoning his hold on her hand occurs to deliver a scolding swat to her ass.
“And who marries who on paper?” Questions continue to effortlessly rev at the starting line of my mind. “Are we doing any of that? Don’t you get money back or pay less money or something for technically being married on paper?”
“That’s not…quite…it,” our fiancée slightly cringes.
“Would being married on paper be beneficial for us? And how beneficial? We talkin’ like how a lift kit can add value to a truck depending on its make, model, and condition or more like how a roll cage definitely increases value for those wanting a performance centered vehicle?” There isn’t time for either of their mouths to even consider moving. “And whose name goes on our son’s birth certificate? Can you put two names on there? Is that legal? Is that possible? Is that-”