Page 43 of Monsters, Vows, and Growls
She looked up, trying way too hard to look innocent. “No what? I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. You’ve got thatscheming architect destroyerlook on your face again.”
“It’s a mudroom-slash-massage room, Patrick,” she said, like I was the unreasonable one. “You can’t tell me a foot rub station after a muddy hike isn’t a good investment.”
I stared. “You want me to design a spa corridor attached to the laundry room.”
“Exactly! For wellness. And feet.”
Thorne grunted in the back of my head, amused.She wants a foot room. Give her the whole damn spa.
“Fine,” I said, sighing dramatically. “But I’m naming it theToes & Towels Wing.”
Ella choked on her coffee, laughing. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I absolutely would. Plaque and everything.”
She beamed at me over the blueprints, eyes shining. “God, I love you.”
Yeah, well. That still wrecked me every time. Before I could go over her proposed mudroom-foot-retreat hybrid space, her phone dinged. She checked it, lit up, then looked over at me.
“The venue confirmed. We’re officially booked.”
I froze. “Wait—the place? With the forest path and the old grain barn and the stone fireplace?”
“That’s the one,” she said, practically bouncing in place. “October fifteenth. Just before the leaves start to fall, but right when everything’s golden.”
I set my coffee down and walked over, scooping her up before she could protest. “You just booked our wedding.”
“I did,” she said, grinning against my chest. “So you’ve got exactly six months to build that dream house, big guy.”
“Already working on it,” I murmured, kissing her temple.
The front door swung open without warning.
“Anybody home?” came my dad’s voice, far too chipper for a man who hadn’t knocked.
Ella scrambled off the couch with a yelp, and I turned to see my father stroll in, holding a box from that donut place downtown and wearing ajersey with Gabe's name and football team on it.
“There they are!” he boomed. “My favorite couple! Tell me the wedding’s back on.”
“It was never off, Dad,” I said.
He hugged Ella like he was sealing a deal and handed her the donuts. “That’s what I like to hear. I always knew you were the one for this idiot. You sure you’re not secretly part saint?”
“Jury’s still out,” Ella said, eyes twinkling.
Dad looked around the living room, took in the blueprints, and dropped onto the recliner. “So… now that you’re finally making it official—how long before I get a grandkid or two?”
Ella dropped the donut box.
“Dad!”
“What? I’m just saying, you two are on a roll. Wedding, new restaurant, dream house. Let’s keep the momentum going.”
Ella’s face was tomato-red. I thought she might throw a cinnamon twist at him. I wisely put my hand on her shoulder before she could reach for it.
“We’ll let you know, Dad,” I said through gritted teeth.
