Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 72401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
I shot him a glare. “No, it’s the beginning,” I quipped back.
He winked. “Just keep telling yourself that.”
“She’s wearing a dress. A dress is a dress is a dress,” Molly said stiffly.
Molly’s words were heated, and I looked over at her to see her looking at Torren.
Who had his eyes on another woman for once.
A shy-eyed blonde with wavy hair down to her waist. She was wearing a slinky black dress that was really quite modest.
Tru?
I think that was what Rue had introduced her as.
She was a COTA, or a certified occupational therapist assistant.
The two of them had met at the hospital while Torren had gone through occupational therapy.
Tru worked in the therapy department of Christus Health.
Their paths had crossed from time to time, and they’d become friends.
I’d met her only a few times, but what I knew of her, I liked.
Even the part that captured Torren’s attention.
I loved my baby sister and all, but I cared for Torren, too.
They weren’t good for each other, and it was nice to see Torren moving on instead of staying in the same rut he’d been in for the last couple of years.
The music changed from the normal wedding shit to the bridal march, drawing my gaze from Torren, and placing it on Audrey as she walked down the steps of my back porch.
She looked great.
She’d been doing great, too.
After Tunnel had died, Audrey had withdrawn into herself for a few weeks, and it’d only been because of Cord, of all people, that she’d come out.
The two had struck up a friendship, that I could very well see morphing into something more given just a bit more time.
Then my soon to be wife showed at the top of the stairs, and all thoughts, except her, flew out of my brain and left me speechless.
I could, however, laugh.
We’d decided not to have a formal wedding.
Instead, we decided to have a backyard affair at my place, going for casual.
I’d been certain that Rue would dress up.
Don’t get me wrong…she was wearing a dress. It just wasn’t what I’d expected.
It was black and pink, to match her engagement ring and wedding band.
The dress was short, and tight.
She wore black cowboy boots, and had her hair up high on her head.
Oh, and let’s not forget the property patch.
She was wearing that, too.
By the time she made it to stand beside me, I was practically beaming.
“You look good in my patch,” I observed, once the music stopped and Reverend Spano started the ceremony.
She smiled. “Thanks. I wanted everyone to know I was yours. Lock, stock, and barrel.”
I’d given her the property patch, which was a leather vest with ‘Property of Cleo’ on the back, before we’d separated for the night.
I’d given it to her later than I’d wanted, but I needed her to have the right mindset when I gave it to her.
Which she didn’t have for many months leading up to the previous day.
It was simple in design, but it meant much, much more.
To her and to me.
Twenty minutes later, Rue became Mrs. Mikhail Caruso, and I was one happy motherfucker.
***
Rue
8 months later
Feeling on top of the world, I took my helmet off and turned to Cleo in the back, seeing him clutching the seat with wide, wild eyes.
He looked white as a ghost, and I had to suppress the urge to smile.
I’d just taken my last FAA- helicopter flight training session, and totally kicked its ass.
I couldn’t tell you why I wanted to fly a helicopter.
Mostly, though, it was so I could be closer to Cleo.
Sure he may be a little unsure right now, but eventually he’d be okay.
This was the first time he’d flown with me since I’d started the training over six months ago, and it showed.
“Well?” I asked. “How was it?”
He blinked rapidly before he let his grip on the seat go. “Uhh,” he croaked. “I think I might’ve died a thousand deaths in the last two hours.”
I gave him a wry look. “I did just fine, and you know it.”
With that comment, I had Ross laughing.
“Oh, boy. You should see your face in some of these pictures,” Ross crowed as he started going through some pictures on his phone.
Ross had demanded to go as soon as he’d heard it was my final teacher-assisted flight.
He’d especially wanted to go when he found out that Cleo was going, too.
Which, now I knew, was to get blackmail pictures of him.
He was becoming quite the photographer.
I secretly couldn’t wait to see the pictures either.
My hands fumbled with the latches that strapped me in, moving them this way and that as I tried in vain to get them off.
I heard Cleo sigh from the back, followed shortly by the door opening.
My door was opened moments later, and Cleo’s hands made quick work of the latches that were digging uncomfortably into my stomach.
“Thanks,” I said once he got me completely free.
His head fell down until it rested on my belly, and he started talking to our soon to be child as if I couldn’t hear every word he said.
“You’re mother’s making me fucking crazy. What kind of hugely pregnant person would want to fly when she has a perfectly capable husband that can do it for her?” He asked our child.
“The type that doesn’t like to cook in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant,” I snapped.
His eyes rose up to meet mine, and he smiled.
“I’m proud of you, girl,” he said, and meant it.
I smiled widely at him and wrapped my arms firmly around his neck.
The position was awkward at best, but neither one of us cared.
That was us.
Perfectly imperfect.
***
Rue
1 year later
“Nonnie’s really living this up. I can’t believe she’s doing so well,” I said as I watched Nonnie show our eighth month old son a glass bird on the shelf beside our kitchen window.
Cleo looked up from underneath the sink where he was placing childproof locks and smiled. “All she needed was the grandchild she was making all those baby blankets for.”
I secretly agreed.
It was like a light switched the moment we introduced Nonnie to Zach.