Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
At six foot four and two-hundred-and-thirty pounds, there is nothing small about me. But for some reason, Willy’s brothers look like lethal fucking giants, standing side by side in the doorway.
Neither of them smiles. “Hey! You must be Wilhelmina’s brothers, Samir and Isaac, right? I’m Dallas, her fiancé.” I extend a hand and pray it doesn’t get broken.
Her oldest brother takes my hand first. The shake is firm, but not life-threatening. “You can call me Sam. This is my baby brother, Isaac.”
“He calls me his baby brother because I make more money than him and his ego can’t handle it.” Isaac elbows Sam out of the way and takes my hand in a mildly bone-crushing grip.
My smile does not waver. “It’s great to meet both of you. Wilhelmina talks about you all the time.”
“Probably about how we annoy the hell out of her,” Sam says with a grin.
“Or how loud we are. She took up debate in third grade so she could win arguments.”
Suddenly, so much about Wills makes sense. “That sounds like Wills. I’m sorry I’m late.”
Sam gives me an inquisitive look as he steps aside. “You’re early, not late.”
“Right. Yeah.” I nod a couple of times.
Isaac smirks. “Let me guess, Hemi told you to be here at four thirty to ensure you’d make it by five.”
I rub the back of my neck. “She might’ve done that.” I’m already lying about enough stuff, and these two look like they’re good at sniffing out bullshitters.
As soon as I round the corner, I’m engulfed by two women. Apparently, Willy’s moms are huggers. Sandhya—who goes by Sandy—is a petite thing, at least a head shorter than her daughter. She’s dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with waist-length dark hair pulled back in a complicated braid. I briefly wonder if her wife does it for her, and if Wills would let me braid her hair. I learned how to do it for my great-grandma Bippy after she developed arthritis in her hands. Her other mom, Georgie, is tall and willowy. She wears white linen pants and a flowy tank top. Everything about her screams poise and elegance. They’re an interesting couple, and I love them already.
“Dallas! My goodness! The last time I saw you in person you were a teenager. You have definitely filled out!” Sandy smiles up at me and pats my chest. “Oh wow. You’re solid.”
“I spend a lot of time in the gym and on the ice.”
“That is absolutely true, isn’t it?” She laughs, and Georgie joins in.
“It’s amazing what a few years of professional hockey will do.” Georgie squeezes my biceps.
“Yeah, I’m pretty dedicated to the sport.”
“We watch all the time,” Georgie’s voice pitches up dramatically.
Sam snorts a laugh. “You mean you watch the thirty second highlight reel on the news.
“That’s not true!” Georgie’s voice is so reedy she sounds like she’s channeling a dog whistle.
Isaac smirks. “You’re literally the worst liar in the world, Mom.”
A minute later, Wills appears. Her lips curve into a smile, and she smooths her hands over her hips. She’s wearing jeans that hug her curves and a Terror shirt. “You’re early!”
“I couldn’t wait to get here.” I move toward her, wrapping my arm around her waist, remembering just how good it felt last night to finally touch her in ways I’ve fantasized about for years. I can’t help myself; I drop my head to her ear and breathe in her shampoo. “Thanks for making sure I got here on time.”
She smiles wryly. “I know what you’re like.”
Her gaze shifts to my mouth, and then jumps back to my eyes, like she’s remembering last night, too. I quirk a brow, silently asking permission. Her tongue sweeps out to wet her bottom lip. It’s all the encouragement I need.
I brush my lips over hers. It lasts maybe a second, but I feel that brief connection everywhere in my body—including very inconvenient parts that would like this kiss to escalate. I pull back, mostly so the hard-on I’ve been battling doesn’t resurge in front of her family.
Post introductions, Willy pours us all drinks, and we move to the living room where artfully displayed appetizers sit on the coffee table. A cheese platter, various cured meats, some fruit, and a bowl of chakri are waiting for us.
Her brothers load up their plates, which are the size of my palm, and take a seat next to each other on one of the couches. Willy’s moms take the love seat, leaving the barrel chair for Wills and me. If we were two average-sized people, the barrel chair would be fine, but I’m tall and broad. I take up seventy-five percent of the chair on my own, which means Willy either has to perch on the edge or sling her legs over mine. I pass the gifts to her moms and help make the decision for her by tucking my arm under her legs and arranging them so they hang over my left thigh. She hooks her feet around my right calf. I’m in fucking heaven.