Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 134706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
“I think it would be nice,” I reply as I stare at the ring in front of us. “But maybe Mom would prefer a round one.” I shrug. “Good idea, though, Tricky.” I rub his little head and mess up his hair.
He smiles up at me. “I suppose.”
“Excuse me,” I call to the salesman.
“Yes.”
“Can we look at this one, please?” I point to the ring we like.
“Of course.” He takes it out of the cabinet and passes it over.
We all stare at it in my hand. “Can you tell me about it?” I ask.
“Yes, this is a perfect-cut solitaire two-karat diamond. Eighteen-karat gold in a traditional setting.”
I smile as I stare at it. I think this is it. “Can we have a moment alone, please?” I ask.
“Of course.” He leaves us alone.
“What do you reckon?” I whisper as I pass it to Fletcher. He studies it carefully. “I love this one.” He passes it to Harry, who inspects it in great detail. He nods in approval. He passes it to Patrick, who immediately drops it on the ground.
“Patrick, you idiot,” Harry whispers angrily. “Watch what you’re doing.”
“It’s slippery,” Patrick stammers.
“Oh my God. I’m sorry,” I stammer to the salesman as we all dive to the floor to retrieve it.
I pick it up and stare at it in my fingers, and a broad smile crosses my face. “This is it.” I turn to the salesman. “We’ll take it, please.”
Snow is falling, and the boys all stare out the window of our chalet.
It’s Christmas Eve, and we are sitting by the open fire, next to the Christmas tree.
This Christmas seems special . . . it is special.
My first with them.
Claire smiles over at me. “Thank you for bringing us here.” She kisses me softly. “It’s perfect.”
“Boys,” I call.
They all run to us and sit down, excited for what’s to come.
“We have something for you.” I smile.
Patrick puts his hand over his mouth so that he doesn’t blurt it out.
Claire’s eyes come to me in question.
I drop to my knee in front of her and hold out the ring. “Claire, will you marry me?”
The three boys all bounce on the spot in excitement.
Claire giggles and pulls me in to kiss her. “I thought you’d never ask.” We kiss, and the boys high-five. “I’ve got a Christmas present for you too, Tris,” she whispers.
I smile as I kiss her again, and then she takes my hand and puts it over her stomach.
“You’re going to be a father.”
My world stops.
She smiles through tears. “I’m two months pregnant.”
I stare at her wide eyed; then I look to the boys, who are wide eyed too.
What the . . .
Claire giggles as my hand rests tenderly over her stomach. “Be careful what you wish for, Mr. Miles. Now you have four.”
Two weeks later
I exhale heavily as I stand outside Jameson’s office door. I drop my head as I brace myself.
I’m about to do something I’ve never imagined in my wildest dreams.
I knock twice.
“Come in,” he calls.
Without a word, I walk in and hand him the envelope.
He frowns. “What’s this?”
“My resignation.”
“What?” His eyes hold mine. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m taking over as CEO of Anderson Media. Fletcher and I are going to run it together.”
His face falls. “I don’t think—”
“The decision’s already been made, Jay,” I cut him off. “I’m going.”
“What did Claire say?”
“She doesn’t know yet.”
He frowns. “You are leaving your family company to run someone else’s company? That’s madness.”
I drop my head.
“I can’t let you do this,” he stammers.
“I’m going to run my sons’ company . . . for them. I can build it back up so that by the time they are old enough to take it over, it will be booming.”
His eyes hold mine, and he gives me a slow smile. “You’re a good man, Tristan.” He pulls me into a hug and kisses my cheek.
I want to blurt out that we are pregnant and not to be sad, because this is the beginning of something wonderful—a life with the woman I love and four beautiful children—but I can’t. We’ve agreed to keep the pregnancy to ourselves for another month until Claire reaches her second trimester.
However, I’m well aware that this is the end of my time working with my brothers, and for that I truly am devastated.
It won’t be the same not working with them.
My eyes well with tears as we hug. The ending of an era.
Eventually I pull out of his arms and walk toward the door.
“When will you be back?” he asks.
I turn back to him. “When my boys are men.”
The End