Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Should Angel and I sneak out the back?”
I groan while glaring at the door. “I might sneak out with you.”
For the first time, I hear her laugh. And it’s a beautiful, melodious sound reserved for the special. It’s so perfect that I almost hate her for having it.
“Send Angel out here, and we’ll wait until it’s safe to sneak around the edge,” she says.
I smirk while nodding. “The code is Angel’s birthday—month, day, year. Just press it at the side exit. Otherwise you’ll be trapped out here until Erica leaves. Unless you want to help me out?”
It’s a lame joke, but I’m sincerely hoping to hear her laugh again. But when I look at her, her expression has changed.
“Angel’s birthday is the code?” she asks in a hushed tone, probably worried about someone overhearing.
“Yeah. I changed it about three weeks ago. I had to give the inside a more complicated code, considering anyone could figure that out, but I should probably give it to you in case you need it. I’ll give you all my codes and extra keys for all my places when I drop her off next time.”
She swallows hard, but only acknowledges my words with a slight nod of her head. This is the longest we’ve spoken since we reunited. It’s definitely the least angst I’ve ever felt after talking to her. I usually feel like I need a muscle relaxant once she leaves.
I head in, ignoring the annoying, relentless bell.
“Did Mom say yes?” Angel asks as she stands up.
Grinning, I nod. “Yep. She’s waiting for you out back. And I’ll hold up my end of the bargain to have better stuff here for you.”
Seeming satisfied, she glances at the door, and then back at me. “I like pizza for dinner. Cheese only. Lasagna is okay. Spaghetti is good. No vegetables. No one ever makes me eat vegetables.”
A small laugh slips out of me.
“Italian it is,” I murmur, grinning. I’ll let her think she’s outsmarting me with the vegetables thing. Allie wouldn’t dare let her not eat them.
Her smile actually steals my breath, because she never smiles like that for me. Then she runs outside to meet her mother.
Knowing I have to deal with Erica, I decide to text Ash—Tag’s wife—instead of calling her. She’ll help me get this place ready. Rain, Tria, Raya, and Brin would probably help me out, too. They’ll know what girls need.
With a regretful breath, I open the door to let Erica in so that Angel and Allie can sneak out.
“It’s about damn time,” Erica growls as she shoulders by me.
“Come on in,” I mutter dryly.
“Where are they?”
I just laugh while shaking my head. “You’re not meeting my daughter, Erica. Forget it. I don’t want your crazy rubbing off on her.”
She takes several furious breaths, and follows me to the kitchen. I sit down at the table and start sorting the work I abandoned to spend time with Angel after breakfast this morning.
“You work in your study,” she says randomly.
“You’ve never been here before, so you don’t know where I work in this home.”
And I’m going to kick the ass of whoever gave her my address. I never wanted her tainting this property, which is why I never brought her here. I moved here because she doesn’t crowd this space with bad memories the way she does all of our other homes. Well, my other homes—it’s not our anything anymore. She signed a prenuptial agreement.
“Who is she? How did you have a kid? When did you have a kid?”
And we’re back to her reason for hating me even more.
“She is a woman I met seven years ago, and I treated her like shit. I had a kid because I was reckless. And my daughter was born over six years ago.”
“So you met her seven years ago, and you have a kid six years later? That’s quick work.”
“She got pregnant the first night we met.” The only night we met. “Factor in the nine months for pregnancy, and you have a six-year-old working on age seven. First grader. That’s all you need to know. It’s more than you deserve to know.”
She snorts derisively, moving to where she thinks she’s in my vision.
“She got pregnant the first night you met? Sounds like a real keeper.”
Dropping my pen to the table, I finally give Erica the attention she wants. “A woman who sleeps with her fiancé’s brother the night before they’re supposed to get married doesn’t get to judge a woman who is working her ass off to selflessly provide for her own child.”
She rolls her eyes, and I grind my teeth. She always brushes off what she did as nothing major. I was such a fucking idiot to marry her.
“As if you’re not the one providing for the child. Have you had a paternity test done?”