Mine To Have (Southern Wedding #1) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Southern Wedding Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
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Sitting at the table between Rachel and Victoria, it’s definitely different from when we did this before. Especially since I used to either sit beside Travis or on top of him. Now he is facing me, and I am having a hard time not looking over at him. I would, of course, have to look over at him when it was his time during the game, but when it wasn’t, I would sneak looks over at him and hope he would miss me. A couple of times, I caught him looking and just smiled at him. My whole body was on high alert as if it was waiting for his touch. When he came to the bar and I handed him a drink, it was to make myself not reach out for him. It was what I always did. I had to tell myself that it was the past and he was with someone now. It was hard for me to swallow, but I did it for him. I did it because I promised him that I would be here and I was a woman of my word. I mean, I also promised to kick him in the balls the next time I would see him, so there is a promise that I don’t know if I will keep.

His voice when he said it was canceled, I thought I wasn’t hearing him correctly. I thought it was a mistake, and then he announced it, and I had all the questions in the world. What the hell was happening? Where was the bride? Who changed their mind? All the questions yet knew that he owed me nothing.

"I’m going to the bathroom," I say, standing up, the room spins, and then I sit down and laugh. I look around the table to see if anyone is watching and find his eyes on me. His eyes are a touch lighter than they were when he walked in. His side smirk makes my stomach flip and flop, and then the feeling goes a touch lower to a specific area he definitely made happy daily. It’s the smirk that I used to reach up and touch with my index finger right before I leaned in and kissed his lips.

"What is that smirk about?" I wrapped my arms around his neck as he placed his hands on my hips. His hands always were on my hips, where he squeezed me and pulled me toward him.

He would lift one of his hands and push my hair to the back of my shoulder so he could lean in and whisper in my ear. "Because I know what I’m going to be doing to you after we leave here." I would throw my head back and laugh, and he would take the opportunity to lean in and kiss my neck while he wrapped his arms around my waist, and I would be stuck to him.

"You are fortunate that I like you," I would say to him, and that would make him laugh, giving me the opportunity to kiss his neck and slip my hands into the back of his hair. "I like you a lot." His eyes would come back to mine. "I love you, Harlow," he would say, and no matter where we were or how loud it was, I could always hear those words clear as day. It would fill my whole body; it would make me feel complete. It would make my heart full in my chest. It was a feeling I thought would never go away.

I blink away the memory. "Okay, take two," I say, getting up, putting my hands on the table to steady myself, and when I don’t wobble, I want to give myself a high five. Instead, I giggle to myself.

"I’ll come with you," Shelby says, getting up. "I need to pee also."

We walk side by side through the tables and into the bathroom, and I stand here in shock. "Oh my God." I look around the square room that has all exposed red bricks. Wooden beams are exposed on the ceiling, with a crystal chandelier hanging down.

Five white sinks are along one of the walls, but what gets me is the big white bench right in front of a mirror that fills most of the wall, but it’s the thick gold antique frame. "This is gorgeous." I walk to the edge and touch the intricate lines with my fingers, tracing the tiny flowers.

"It’s the perfect place for a selfie," Shelby suggests, taking her phone out of her pocket. "Sit down," she says, motioning to the seat in front of it, and I do. "Face the mirror," she instructs me, and I follow her lead. "Put your legs to the side." I laugh when she says this. "Smile."

I smile into the mirror, and then she shows me the picture. "Damn, if you ever give up being a vet." She laughs when she walks into one of the stalls while I hold her phone in my hand. "You could be a model."


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