Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I’d love to say it’s a fleeting thought, but I’d be lying. I thought about them all night last night and they’ve been on my mind today as well. How could they not be? Madeline is cute as hell and all snuggly. Then there’s her mom. Wren is… consuming me. Mostly because of how I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s gorgeous and so damn strong. She’s been through so much, and all I want to do is wrap her in my arms—and be her rock. She takes such great care of her daughter. Who takes care of her?
“I’m out too,” I tell my parents. Reaching for the container of leftovers that Mom fills for me every week, I smile at her. “Thanks, Momma.”
“Kiss ass,” Grant mutters under his breath.
“Hey, you all have wives to feed you. It’s just me,” I argue.
“Marshall Riggins!” Sawyer says, placing her hands on her hips. “Are you insinuating that’s all your sisters and I are worth?”
“Nope. But you have to admit y’all have quiet nights in, and that includes eating.” Her shoulders relax. “You know I love you, sis. I love all of y’all.” I make eye contact with my other three sisters, who are now crowded into the kitchen, along with Owen. “But you know I’m right.”
“If only you would open your eyes.” Layla smiles sweetly.
“My eyes are wide open, sis.” I place a kiss on her cheek. “I see you.” I wink.
“Marsh,” Owen growls, making the entire room erupt into laughter. He’s so head over heels for his wife. They all are, and I admit that knowing they’re going home together, each of them, and I’m going home alone, well, it causes a pang of loneliness to creep in. My brothers all have lives of their own, their own families, and I’m still me—fun-loving Marshall.
“Believe in the magic, brother,” Owen says, Layla tightly wrapped in his arms.
“On that note, I’m out. Love you!” I call out to my family.
It’s just after seven in the evening when I roll into the city limits. Again, Wren and her daughter pop into my mind, and I can’t help but wonder what they’re doing tonight. I let my mind drift, remembering how badly I wanted to kiss her last night. No matter how many times I tell myself that she’s off-limits, I crave to taste her lips and feel their softness against my own.
It’s not until I’m pulling into the parking lot that I realize that I’m at her apartment complex. Glancing over, I see the container of leftovers in the passenger seat. There’s plenty for two, but then what about Madeline? I can’t go in empty-handed. Putting my car into reverse, I pull out of the lot and head to the nearest twenty-four-hour pharmacy. Inside, I head to the baby aisle. I can’t buy her food. I don’t know what she’s eating just yet, so I look at the toys. There’s a book and a small set of keys that she can chew on. Perfect. Taking my picks to the register, I check out and head back to their apartment.
I have no idea what I’m doing. Hell, she might kick my ass to the curb and refuse to let me in. What I do know is that she’s all I’ve been able to think about, and I need to see her. Life’s about taking risks, right? I know she has a baby and that they’re a package deal, and I’m good with that. I don’t even know if I’m pursuing her. I just need to see her. I need to lay eyes on the beauty and her little girl. Friends can bring friends dinner and buy gifts for their kids, right?
Grabbing the pharmacy bag and the container of leftovers, I climb out of the car, hit the lock button, and make my way inside. With each flight of stairs, I begin to second-guess myself. This is crazy. I can’t just show up randomly with food and toys. Despite this, I keep climbing the stairs and eventually reach her door. I don’t let myself hesitate as I knock softly. I don’t know what time Madeline goes to bed, but the last thing I want to do is wake her up.
When Wren opens the door, her mouth drops open, and so does mine. Hers is from shock, and I guess you could say that mine is from shock as well. She’s got her short hair pulled up with tendrils of hair framing her face. She’s in a skintight tank top that’s see-through and a pair of tiny pajama shorts. Did I mention her tank is see-through?
“M-Marshall. Hey,” she says, her eyes wide.
“Hey, Wren.” I hold up the container. “I brought dinner.” I’m not even remotely hungry, but I’ll eat again if it means I get to share a meal with her.