Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I feel his gaze on me and on instinct I turn my head. Our eyes lock. Some kind of understanding passes between us. He respects me. He understands what I’m saying.
There’s a connection. Again.
“Being responsible for another human being makes you feel everything a thousand times more,” I say. “Life’s more vulnerable and scary and tiring and draining, and also a thousand times more colorful and fun and miraculous and wonderful.”
“I’m not sure about that,” he says.
Not yet, I don’t say.
Voices from behind us catch our attention. It’s more people arriving for the football practice.
Dax turns back to Guinevere.
“Do you have to go?” I ask.
“I have a few more minutes.” It’s like he can’t bear to leave her. It’s adorable.
“We’ll walk you.” I take Guinevere from the swing and put her back into the pram. This time I push, because otherwise, Dax might have us heading to the slide and forget about the football altogether.
We get to the gate of the pitch. “Enjoy your football. We’re going to enjoy watching.” As soon as I say it, heat rushes up my cheeks. I didn’t mean to imply we’ll enjoy ogling his perfect male form running about the pitch, but…if the shoe fits, lace that shit up.
He nods and glances between me and Guinevere. He starts to say something and stops himself. Finally, he turns and heads through the gate. When he gets onto the pitch, he stops and turns. “Thank you,” he mouths.
It feels intimate somehow, like we’re the only two people in the park.
I smile at him and he grins back. It’s boyish and sweet and sexy, and I try to ignore the way butterflies flutter in my stomach.
Because this is about Guinevere. And the money. Nothing else.
THIRTEEN
Dax
Jacob is the most irritating of all my brothers. And that says a lot, because they’re all pretty annoying. I don’t even think it’s because he’s the oldest. Even if he was the youngest, he’d still think he was in charge of everything. He’s in my kitchen. Again. He never used to drop by. Why does he think that me having another human being to look after means he gets to visit more often? It’s not like Guinevere can be pleased to see him. Can she?
“I’m just saying we’re always all together. This is the one time in the year where everyone changes schedules and takes time to be together as a family.” He sips the cup of coffee he made for himself without asking me.
“You don’t need to school me in Mum and Dad’s anniversary weekend. I’m in this family too. I know how it goes. But none of you are new single parents from what I can make out. Guinevere is not even three weeks old. She doesn’t need to be pushed from pillar to post and taken to a new place with loads of new voices. It will be overwhelming for her.” I’m not sure if what I’m saying is accurate, but it sounds about right, and honestly, I can’t face a trip to Norfolk on my own with a baby. “And it will be overwhelming for me. I’m barely holding it together here, where I know I can get a delivery of nappies in fifteen minutes if I run out. Norfolk is the middle of nowhere. It takes forty-five minutes to get to the nearest supermarket.”
“It does not. You’re exaggerating.”
“Only slightly.” Everywhere outside of London was less convenient. That was a fact.
“And you’re going to have tons of help with her. It’s not like no one will pitch in. Plus it’s a chance for all the family to see her.”
There’s no doubt my family will all want to coo and ahh over Guinevere. It’s just too much hassle.
“It’s alright for you. If you need to stop for petrol on the way, you just drive into a garage, put petrol in and pay for it while Sutton waits in the car. If I need to, I have to get Guinevere out of her seat, into a coat. I have to get the buggy out of the boot, then strap her into the buggy, go and pay for the petrol and then take her out of the buggy, out of her coat, into her car seat, the buggy goes back in the boot, and then she’s probably shit herself so I have to deal with that.”
“Or you could just unclip her car seat and save yourself a lot of bother.” Jacob rolls his eyes.
I hadn’t thought of that.
“If you want to find an excuse, you’ll be able to,” he says, and he looks kind of disappointed. He fails to see his own lack of logic.
“This isn’t about excuses.” The. Most. Irritating. Brother. Alive. “This is about practicality. I’m not coming.”
“You need to switch into a problem-solving mindset, rather than be a problem magnet. Bring a nanny. Bring Eira. That way, you have two pairs of hands for everything.”