Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
She doesn’t look at me. “Okay.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re in the car and on our way to New Hampshire. Ivy doesn’t say a bleeding word the whole way, and I wonder if this is one of those games women play to get you to feel like an arse. But when I glance at her across the seat, I know it isn’t.
This sort of despondency is something that’s been brewing for a long time. She had her life taken from her. Her freedom ripped away. Now it’s happening all over again, and I’m the one who’s doing that to her.
Christ.
This was not what I wanted. I shouldn’t care how she feels, but I don’t want to see her so miserable either. I’m half tempted to tell her to snap out of it, but that’s because I’m selfish and I don’t want to feel guilty.
Regardless, it makes little difference what I do. The second we pull up to her friend’s house and she sees Archer, the smile returns to her face.
“Where are we going, mama?” Archer asks from the back seat of the car.
I crane my neck to look back at him. “I’m not sure yet.”
Conor loaded us into the car after just a few short minutes at Lacey’s. He looked about as comfortable being there as she felt having him in her house. I realize at some point I’ll have to explain things to her, but it won’t be today.
“Do ye fancy some ice cream?” Conor asks.
“Yes, please!” Archer shouts.
“Ice cream?” I frown. “But it’s cold outside.”
Conor shrugs. “It’s never too cold for ice cream.”
Five minutes later, he pulls into a Baskin Robbins and Archer piles out of the car before I can even unbuckle him. He runs straight to Conor, and it makes my heart race just a little too fast when he extends his small hand and reaches out for Conor’s larger one.
Conor doesn’t hesitate to take it, which surprises me for some reason, though I’m not sure why. He’s been nothing but nice to Archer, but I don’t want Archer getting attached to him. I can feel it already, and the idea of that terrifies me.
Archer hasn’t had a father figure in his life, so I can understand his need for Conor’s attention. Under any other circumstances, I would be thrilled that he found someone he feels so comfortable with. But after last night, I’m more certain than ever that I don’t plan on sticking around for long, and I don’t want Archer’s heart getting broken either.
Regardless, I swallow down my nerves as we walk up to the counter and Archer presses his face against the glass to examine the different ice cream flavors.
“What’ll it be?” Conor asks.
Archer looks up at him. “What are you getting?”
Conor’s lips tilt into an easy smile. “Oreo.”
“I’ll get that too,” Archer offers proudly.
Conor ruffles his hair and turns to me. “How about you, mama?”
My throat is so dry I can barely get the words out. It hits me then, how easy this is. That it could really be like this. We could be a family. Conor could be a part of our lives indefinitely. Except that I can’t forget his rejection this morning. He was right that what we did was crazy. Everything he said was true, but it still stung. We shouldn’t make this more complicated than it already is, and I don’t know why he’s being so nice now.
“I’ll just have a water,” I croak.
Conor shakes his head. “You need to eat. Either you pick out a flavor, or I’ll sort one out meself.”
Archer giggles. “Why don’t you have Oreo too, mama?”
He likes the idea of us together. The three of us unified in our ice cream flavors. And I shouldn’t be giving him any more encouragement, but I can’t let him down. Not when he’s looking at me that way.
“Oreo is good.”
Conor turns to the cashier. “You heard the lady. Three Oreos in a cup.”
Ten minutes later, we’ve finished our ice cream, and Conor and Archer are playing a game of Tic Tac Toe on a napkin while I watch. As much fun as Archer’s having, I’m afraid that Conor will want to leave after this. He’s under no obligation to stay, and he’s already taken the better part of his day just to drive me up here. But I’m not ready to go yet. Not when I haven’t been able to spend any real time with Archer.
When Conor looks up at me, I can’t tell if he recognizes that, or it’s just my imagination. “What else is there to do in this town?”
Archer contemplates the question for a minute before he decides. “Bowling?”
“Bowling, huh?” Conor scratches his chin. “I suppose we could give that a try. What do you think, mama?”
“Sure.” I give Archer a smile and try my best to avoid Conor’s gaze. Every second we spend together feels like I’m dodging landmines, and I can’t make sense of my feelings.