Not the Rebound Guy by Abby Knox (best classic romance novels txt) 📕

I turn to him and lightly punch him in the shoulder. “No! When were you going to tell me?”

“Tonight.”

He delivers a kiss that travels down my toes, back up to my head, and fogs me up completely.

“Will you marry me, Garrett?”

He laughs. “But where? When? Where are we going to live, and who’s moving where? We need a church? Or do you want an outside wedding? And who’s gonna cater? We have to plan!”

“Shut up,” I say, and he does, with the help of another kiss.

Epilogue

One year later

Eliza

The drama of those first few days back home in Piper’s Grove gave me the push I needed to make a change in my life.

I don’t rush into decisions lightly; of course, I made a pro-con list in my journal.

I won’t lie; I might have let Garrett sweat a little bit while I holed up with my notebooks, spreadsheets, and planners.

The end conclusion looked a lot the same as my reason for spending my vacation in my podunk hometown: Grams wasn’t going to be around forever. The difference was that now, I had even more reasons to stay.

When I showed the pro-con list to Garrett, of course, he didn’t take all of that at face value.

“You’re going to miss New York,” he said.

“I can always visit,” was my reply.

He looked at me and said, “How about right now?”

As soon as things calmed down with Grams, and all her jam orders had been delivered, I’d eked out quality time with Nora and those squishy babies. Garrett surprised me by making a plan of his own.

My mom took some time off to helped with her continued physical therapy, so Garrett could come with me to New York to pack up my things. We made a meal out of that trip: we stayed a month and toured the city. I turned in my notice at work, to no one’s surprise. I showed some of my favorite sites to Garrett and showed him off to my friends; he, in turn, provided me with a list of places he’d always wanted to see. He enjoyed it so much, he now wants to visit at least a couple of times a year.

A year later, and everything has changed. Mom has invested in my planning and organization business, which I’ve started as a work-from-home venture. In addition to all his home renovations, Garrett had also secretly built me an office in his house. Correction: our house.

Living next door to Grams, sharing life with Garrett, and seeing my mom more often, feels like I’m on a permanent vacation.

We ended last summer with a small but beautiful wedding ceremony in the meadow, surrounded by our friends and family, and no shortage of barnyard animals.

The bride’s mother was too focused on her new beau, Otto, to get too upset about a pot-bellied pig named Carl serving as the ring bearer. Between Grams, Garrett, and I, we put our mark on the rustic chic wedding aesthetic. I didn’t have to buy a single hobby-store mason jar centerpiece, of course. Grams is the real deal, and her house has always been crammed full of them.

Today Garrett’s brother’s family are visiting, and all of us have met up at Otto’s Diner for breakfast. Me, Garrett, Grams, Mom, and Nora, and her entire brood as well.

Garrett, whose baby nephew is fast asleep against his shoulder, reaches over to fill my coffee cup, but today all I really want is juice, and I tell him no thanks. I’m not much of a juice drinker, but lately, grapefruit juice has been my go-to.

He gives me an odd look; I never turn down Otto’s coffee, but all I do is smile knowingly.

“Hey,” Grams says when the server comes to refill everyone’s water. “I didn’t get a placemat. What’s going on?”

Nora’s too busy tending to one of the toddler twins while I’m bouncing the other one on my lap.

My mom does notice, however. “I didn’t get one either. That’s a bit unsanitary.”

Grams huffs, “I don’t care about that; I want the news.”

Wyatt scans the table. “Hey, Garrett, you got a placemat, and nobody else did. What gives?”

Grams squints across the table. “Yeah, how did that happen? That’s very unlike Otto.”

The server looks like a deer in headlights and then mumbles something about coming right back to take everyone’s order.

“What’s with her?” I ask. But the thing is, I’m a terrible actress. I try to sell it a little too hard.

With one hand on his baby nephew, Garrett pivots toward me and stares me down. “What’s going on?”

Nora pipes up, “Yeah, I was hoping to see the announcement in the placemats about B&G Enterprises.” That is the entire reason we all came out to breakfast together. There’s supposed to be a blurb today about Gee’s Bees combining forces with the Berry Cottage to form one company selling honey, soap, preserves, and sweets to small markets all over the state. Grams has agreed to let Garrett and me vet applicants. Come this summer, we’re going to have actual employees.

I shrug and blink at my husband innocently, and take a sip of my water.

“I don’t know, babe, why don’t you read your placemat and leave me alone?” I suggest.

He shakes his head and reads the first announcement at the top.

I wait for it.

“Hold on. This says the Little-Strongs are expecting their first baby in eight months. That’s not right; that’s us. We’re them.”

Grams shrieks. “A baby?!”

My mom shouts, “Eliza Jane Little!”

Nora looks up from her fussing toddler and covers her mouth.

The little one in my lap slaps my cheek playfully. “Baby!”

Garrett removes his cap and scratches his head, then puts the cap back on, his face awash in confusion. Then he looks up at me and asks, “Is this a typo?”

I shake my head. “It’s not a typo.”

He hands his nephew back to the baby’s mother, Erin. He hasn’t said anything yet, and I’m dying for him to speak. Something is stirring in the depths of my cool, collected