Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Meanwhile, I took a seat and watched him. He’d been right when he said he was the same man I’d always known. In fact, I knew exactly who Lucky was—a wonderful person who truly cared about me, and about my son. He showed it in a million ways, through tiny acts of kindness and huge grand gestures.
It obviously mattered that he’d been keeping a secret from me, and it was going to take some time to fully move past it. But I understood why he’d done it. If he’d told me early on that he was wealthy, he was right that I probably would have made assumptions. I might have assumed we were way too different to ever make this work—and I would have been wrong about that. I also understood that the longer he went without saying anything, the weirder and more awkward it became to try to bring it up.
But this was just a bump in the road. Nothing more. We were way too strong and solid for anything to derail us.
After dinner and some playtime with Owen, I put the baby to bed and we all gathered for a strategy meeting. I was still worried and nervous, and that really wasn’t going to change until this was resolved once and for all.
But I had such amazing, unwavering support in my corner that it wasn’t nearly as scary as it could have been. It wasn’t just me versus the Wilsons, not by a long shot. Lucky and my family had my back, and that made all the difference.
Later that night, after everyone was asleep, my boyfriend and I nestled together in bed. He was pressed to my back with an arm around me, and it felt so good. “I know I’ve said this a bunch tonight,” I whispered, “but I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.” After a pause, he asked, “Are we okay, Logan?”
I didn’t have to think about it. I took his hand in mine and held it to my chest as I whispered, “Absolutely.”
Chapter 13
The next day was a whirlwind of activity. Walt, the legal assistant, called bright and early and set up a lunchtime appointment, which was when both lawyers had managed to clear their schedules.
When Lucky found me frowning at my closet with a towel around my hips, he said, “Let’s ask JoJo if she can start babysitting a couple of hours sooner than we’d originally planned. I want to take you shopping.”
I raised a brow and grinned. “I know you’re rich and all, but that doesn’t mean we immediately have to recreate that scene from Pretty Woman.”
He grinned too and said, “That’s not what I’m doing. You just need some new clothes and a couple of suits, for meetings with the lawyers and to wear to court. It’s important to present yourself a certain way in that setting.”
“You’re right, but how can I keep taking from you, Lucky? I already owe you more than I can ever hope to repay in this lifetime.”
“Please don’t look at it that way. We’re a couple, and there’s no keeping score. There’s also nothing more important to spend money on than you and this court case, and a new wardrobe is part of that.”
I hugged him and said, “Thank you for being astonishingly kind and generous and taking care of me.”
“Always.”
Once we were both dressed in T-shirts and jeans—his from the stash he kept at my house for his weekend visits—we went downstairs to find JoJo. It turned out she and Owen were out on the patio, making a huge mess with the new finger paints and easel she’d recently bought him.
She was sitting cross-legged on the patio while the toddler laughed delightedly and smeared paint on a large sheet of paper with both hands. When she turned to look at us, I noticed a blue baby-sized hand print on each cheek. “Don’t worry,” she said with a smile. “The paint’s totally nontoxic, and I promise to clean him up when he gets bored of this. Isn’t it great, though? He’s a natural artist.”
“Talk about pure joy,” I said. “Thank you for getting him the paint set and that little apron.” It was as paint-smeared as the canvas.
“My pleasure.” She dipped her finger in some red paint and added a squiggle to the canvas, and Owen immediately smeared it away. JoJo laughed at that and said, “Everyone’s a critic.”
“I hate to ask, but I need to go buy some clothes for today’s meeting, so could you—”
She cut me off with, “You don’t even need to ask. I cleared my whole schedule today and am thrilled to be getting some quality Owen time.”
“Are you sure? I know you’re on a deadline, but Dylan has some appointments and everyone else is at work.” She was a jewelry designer who ran her business from a home studio, and I knew she’d been working to fill an order for a prestigious museum gift shop.