Page 96 of Wish I Didn't Want You Back

“I’m not a fancy guy when it comes to food, so it’s a pretty low bar to clear.” I winked playfully. “How was Marty today?”

She leaned back and folded her arms. “He wasn’t happy that I just showed up and took him out for a drive without asking him first.” I laughed because I bet he wasn’t. “I had to bribe him with a Big Mac from McDonald’s.”

I turned the faucet off and wiped my hand on the rag. “How did he seem health-wise?”

“He was having a good day, so I don’t think he minded a little change of scenery.”

My grandfather loved Harlow as much as his own grandkids, but the man was a creature of habit. He lived by routines. He was a tough old bird and set in his ways. I was surprised she convinced him to leave to begin with.

“Thank you. I’m sure he appreciated the gesture.”

She chuckled. “He complained for the first thirty minutes, but once we arrived at the property, a light switched. He seemed more like himself. I stood back and watched him flirt with the secretary and talk shop with the owner. I know these good days are rare, so I let him be himself. When I saw him getting tired, I called it a day and brought him back.”

I swallowed hard and looked away. My heart was filled with gratitude and a touch of sadness. Knowing he was sick was one thing, but knowing his days were numbered was something else. I was glad she got to see him like that today.

“I gotta get over there this week and see him.”

She nodded. “We had a great day, I even took him to the Amber Inn. He helped me go over the menu, and then we stopped by the stationery store to look at invitations.”

The glow of excitement on her face hit me square in the chest. “Don’t make this too hard on yourself. It’s just my family and our close friends.”

She rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I want to send them. We don’t exactly have months to plan. We have two weeks,” she said as if I was slow to catch on. “The only reason why the timeline isn’t stressing me out is because we are keeping it small and simple.” She stood to bring her plate over beside mine. “If someone told me a year ago that we would be sitting here in this kitchen, planning our wedding, and talking about starting my own landscape design business here in Marcellus Falls, I would have thought they were crazy, but here we are.”

I shook my head. “I still can’t believe we’re doing this.”

She tilted her head to the side. “You’re not freaking out on me, are you?”

“Harlow, I’ve been waiting to marry you my entire life.”

“You know,” she said softly, “a part of me always knew it was supposed to be you. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t marry him.”

I reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t give a damn what that trust says, or about what anyone else thinks. I want to marry you because I love you. You’re it for me. I don’t care where we live, here, the lake house, an apartment, or a trailer, you are my home.”

Her smile was wobbly. “I never thought I would get a second chance with you again. I can’t wait to be your wife.”

I brought her mouth to mine and kissed her. It was the type of kiss that said we are in this together now, and there is no turning back.

She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me closer.

I dragged my lips down to her jaw and sucked on the side of her neck where her pulse raced. “I thank God every day that you came back to me.”

Her hands slid under my shirt. My muscles jumped from her touch. “I don’t remember you being so religious.”

“I’m not, but I should probably change that because the things I plan on doing to you will definitely require a trip to confession.”

My mouth crashed to hers again, this time with urgency and need. “What do you plan on doing to me?” she asked, her hands gripping the sides of my hair.

I grabbed hold of her hips and lifted her onto the counter. I settled myself between her thighs. “How about I show you instead?”

She wrapped her legs around me. “I was hoping you would say that, just be careful with your hand.”

I slid my hands under her shirt, pulling it up slowly. “Trust me, nothing would make my hand feel better than feeling you come all over it.”

“I hope you don’t plan on going slow. I need you,” she whispered, as my hands skated along her sides.

My thumbs brushed the underside of her breast. “I know exactly what you need because every inch of you belongs to me.”

I tugged the rest of her shirt off and threw it on the floor. “God. I want you, Brooks, please.”

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