Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
“Uncle Mad, they need to be blown up,” Cammy comes at me. I hold the phone between my chin and my shoulder as I set Piper back down on the pool deck. “No pool yet, Piper.”
“Nope, my nieces are hanging out with me today. I’ve got time to spare for you.” When in all actuality, I don’t, but I’m making time for Hendrix. The girls will keep me busy until all three of us are worn out. Cammy hands me the armbands that Piper uses at times when she gets tired of doing all the work and just wants to be a water bug, floating on her back.
“Are you sure? I can call back.” Hendrix sounds unsure, probably a first for her.
“I’m positive. Their sunscreen is drying. Once that happens, all bets are off,” I tell her as I sit down on one for the pool loungers. An umbrella in between the two. Cammy moves away from Piper, who’s looking for the dive rings, setting them in one pile, then going for something else.
“Alright, I never gave you the money back.” I lift my arm, still listening to Hendrix as Cammy settles in next to me. Worry settles in. She’s always been the independent to Piper’s dependent, but today, that doesn’t seem to be the case.
“I told you, I don’t want it. Keep your money or donate it,” I tell her yet again.
“Madden, I don’t think you understand I need to do this.”
“And I told you, I’m not sure how many times, to keep it.” Piper’s little butt is up in the air, stomach on the ledge of the deck box as she reaches for what I’m sure is more dive rings or sticks. “Piper, you good, baby girl?” I ask. An arm lifts in the air, thumb going up as the universal sign that she’s good.
“Fine, whatever. I’ll figure out a way to get it back to you,” Hendrix grumbles.
“Well, if you hadn’t run away last night, this wouldn’t be an issue.” I give her a taste of her own medicine, wondering how she’ll respond this time.
“Like I said, I’ll figure something out.”
“I’ll call you later, and we can discuss how you can pay me back,” I respond, knowing I’ve got about thirty more seconds until Piper is going to run for the pool.
“There’s nothing to discuss. Sexual favors will not be included,” Hendrix throws out.
“You’re lucky I’ve got two little girls with ears who have been through enough because I have not ever insinuated that. You’re a trip. Keep the money, Hendrix. Do whatever you gotta do. Life’s too short to argue over everything.” Then I do what I know Hendrix least expects: I hang up the phone. My energy has better use for the time being, and that’s to hang with my two favorite girls.
NINETEEN
Madden
After a day of fun in the sun with Cammy and Piper, it was time for them to head home with Forest. I’m not going to lie; I was worried about the thought of the three of them going home where shit went down. Especially with how Cammy seemed to be glued to my side today. And when Forest got to my place, she did the same. The girls not leaving our sight meant there was no way we could talk, which I’m sure we’ll do tomorrow. I picked up my place. Cooper was lying on his dog bed, actually not humping it or tearing it apart with his teeth and aggressive head shake. Clearly, he’s making progress, so I left him to his snooze and did a little reconnaissance of my own. That was a couple of hours ago. I could have called Hendrix, letting her know the move I was about to make, but knowing my luck, she’d come up with the lamest excuse in the book, like she needs to wash her hair, or better yet, she would leave, and I’d be left sitting in my truck at the curb at her place, which is where my truck is now. I’m currently standing at her front door, hand up, about to knock, when I stop at hearing what sounds like a record player playing a rock ballad. Hendrix is singing along out of tune, and Jolene yips in what I’m assuming is happiness. One day soon, I won’t be standing on the other side of the door; I’ll get a front row seat if I can convince her to quit hating me, unless it’s the male population she hates. I’m beginning to think it’s me, though.
I’m about ready to say screw it, to leave Hendrix to her music, when the door flies open. “I knew you were a creeper, but this is bordering on stalking.” Her hair is a mess, a sheen of sweat coats her forehead, and she’s in something sexier than a bathing suit in my opinion. A white tank top that shows her midriff, a midriff that has another tattoo that climbs up beneath her top. Her hands are on her hips, and she’s wearing shorts that hug her lower half, and I know if she turns around, she’ll give me a fantastic view of her ass.