Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 217988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1090(@200wpm)___ 872(@250wpm)___ 727(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 217988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1090(@200wpm)___ 872(@250wpm)___ 727(@300wpm)
“You listen to me,” he told her fiercely. “You dying wouldn’t have helped them. Wouldn’t have helped anyone. And it would’ve meant that I continued to go on through life, alone. And Pup would have kept burying himself in work and video games to avoid risking his emotions, never wanting to try because he was scared of rejection. You are the reason we both have hope.”
She sucked in a breath. “Me?”
“You. Next time you feel guilty about being alive, remember that. Then come find me, and I’ll heat your ass for your stupid thoughts.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to call my thoughts stupid.”
“Why not? They are.”
Well. He’d told her.
“My grandparents would turn over in their graves if they knew I was involved with two men. Not that I care what they think. They weren’t the nicest people. Always telling me I wasn’t good enough, smart enough, pretty enough.”
“If they were alive, I’d make them suffer for making you feel like that.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet.”
“You’re the only person that thinks that. Now, it’s time for you to go back to bed.”
“So bossy.”
“That’s right, baby girl. I’m the boss. Don’t forget it.”
She thought that would be pretty difficult.
“Now, listen to Daddy and go to bed like a good little girl.”
Oh, Lord, he was hitting every button she had.
“All right, Daddy.”
“I like when you call me Daddy.”
She liked it too. It felt so right. Memories stirred of her calling him Daddy . . . of him giving her a bottle? Had that really happened? Or was it her brain wishing it had?
“I have something for you before you go,” she told him.
“What is it?”
She reached into her pocket to pull out a small velvet bag. “It’s a Christmas present.”
He stared down at it.
“It’s not a bomb about to explode.”
“Not used to someone giving me things.”
That made her feel sad. How long had he been on his own? She guessed it was hard for him to make friends, to trust people.
“Open it.”
He opened the bag, pulling the item out.
“What is it?” he asked.
“You know what it is. It’s a key to my house. I know you can get in whenever you want to. But this way . . . this way you know you’re always welcome. And that’s the code for the alarm. Guessing you know that too.”
She kissed him lightly. Yum. He was delicious. Then she stood. “Thank you for all my gifts, Santa. And Merry Christmas.”
She rushed inside before he could say anymore.
When she got inside, she paused.
“Merry Christmas, Bunny.”
19
There was a butt plug on the nightstand.
Brody blinked, staring at it.
The past week had been very quiet and uneventful. He and Autumn had been having fun playing with all their Christmas presents.
“Good morning,” Autumn said. She was carrying a tray loaded with a plate of something that he couldn’t decipher. Which meant it was likely one of her creations. His stomach hadn’t recovered from the chocolate-crumbed fried chicken. There were also two mugs of coffee and an energy drink.
“Morning,” he said, sitting up. “How long have you been up for?”
She shrugged and settled the tray on his lap. “Long enough to make you breakfast. Here, let me put some pillows behind you.”
She was always making his bed, or doing his laundry or making his favorite food. But she rarely let him return the favor.
While it was sweet, he really wished she’d let him do things for her.
“Tutu, you don’t need to make me breakfast in bed.”
“I was up.” She shrugged, grabbing a mug of coffee and settling down to face him on the bed. He’d stayed over every night since Christmas, but he was going back to work tomorrow, so he probably needed to return home tonight.
“You look tired,” he told her bluntly. “You should take a nap today.”
“I look that bad, huh?” She tried to laugh, but it came off strained.
“I can’t understand why you still look so exhausted when you sleep better while I’m here. Maybe we should take you to the doctor.”
“No doctor!” She gave him a horror-filled look.
He knew that she didn’t like doctors. He’d had this reaction from her before when he’d gently suggested that she get a check-up.
He didn’t have the heart to push her further.
“Okay, no doctor.”
“I’m fine, really.”
He wasn’t so sure about that. “I’m going to come back here tonight.”
She shook her head. “You said you were staying at your apartment.”
“Yes, but you’ll sleep if I’m here.”
“Brody . . . I . . .”
“Yes?”
“Sometimes I wake up and can’t get back to sleep.”
“But I’ve never noticed.”
“I usually get up and go outside for a while.”
“Outside?” He gaped at her.
“Yeah. I like to be able to breathe.”
“But it’s cold outside.”
“Sometimes I have a blanket.”
“Autumn,” he growled, sensing there was something more.
“Often the Fox brings the blanket to me,” she blurted out.
“He visits you? At night?”
“Sometimes. You knew that he visited.”