Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“Tonight, after work, we’ll get creative.” He winks at me, and I try not to blush, but I do anyway before I quickly walk away from him toward the truck. He gets there at the same time, closing the door behind him.
“I can drive him by myself,” I tell him, and he just looks me up and down, not answering. Instead, he walks over to the driver’s side and gets into the truck.
“You coming?” he asks when he starts the truck and rolls down the passenger side window.
“Of course I’m coming,” I mumble, climbing into the truck. Drop-off is about the same as it was yesterday. Lots of eyes looking our way as the three of us walk to the fence, with Brady ruffling Wyatt’s hair and telling him to have a good day. He waits beside me with his hands in his back pockets until Wyatt is safely in the school. A few of the moms spot him and say hello. I notice a couple of them look at him with a look I definitely know, and I don’t have to know why they are looking at him like that. It makes me look down nervously, wondering how long ago they were in his bed.
When we get into the truck, he reaches his hand over and grabs mine to hold his. I’m almost tempted to ask him about it, but it’s none of my business. I have to remind myself of that constantly. “You okay?” he asks as we pull out of the parking lot, and he makes his way over to Mr. Mendelson’s house.
“I’m fine,” I lie to him. Well, sort of. “I’m just nervous for the meeting today.”
“It’ll be okay.” He brings my hand to his lips, and all I can do is nod at him.
I’m expecting Mr. Mendelson to be having his coffee on his porch, but the front door is closed, and he’s nowhere to be seen. “I’ll be right back.” I look over at Brady, who nods at me as I get out of the truck and walk up the steps to ring the doorbell. I listen for his footsteps, and they come a couple of minutes later. The minute he opens the door, I see him in his robe, with his nose red and coughing up a storm. “Oh my goodness, Mr. Mendelson,” I say as he puts his hand to his mouth. “How long have you been like this?”
“It’s just a cold.” He pushes my hands away when I go to reach for him. “I’ll be fine tonight to watch Wyatt.”
“You will not,” I immediately snap at him. “You will get back in bed, and I’ll go home and make you soup as soon as I’m done with the lawyer.”
“Stop fretting over me,” he huffs as he turns and walks back to the kitchen. “I said I was fine.”
“You are not fine.” I want to argue with him, but I don’t want to make Ryleigh wait for me. “I need the envelope I gave you,” I tell him, and he nods at me, walking out of the kitchen and toward the back of the house. He comes back with the big manila envelope and hands it to me. “You sure about this lawyer?” he asks. “Once they see that, they can’t go back.”
“I trust her,” I admit, “or else I wouldn’t show her this.” I take the envelope from him and hold it to my chest. “Now get back in bed.”
“Get out of my house,” he jokes with me but starts coughing, “and call me and tell me how things went.”
“Will do,” I reply, walking out of the house and closing the door behind me before walking back to the truck.
“What’s wrong?” Brady asks me as soon as I get into the cab of the truck.
“I can’t work tonight,” I state. I know this will cost me money, which I can’t afford right now, but with no one to watch Wyatt, there is nothing I can do. “Mr. Mendelson is sick.”
“No worries,” he says without skipping a beat. “We’ll see how he is tomorrow, and if he’s not better, I can ask my dad to come over and sit with him.”
“Brady, I’m not going to have your father coming out to sit with my son so I can go to work. I don’t even know him.”
“Please,” he responds, pulling away from the house, “he’ll love every second of this. He needs to keep busy.” He looks at me. “You’ll be doing him a favor. Besides, how else is he supposed to ask you for more baked goods?”
“Brady,” I chide him, and he looks at the envelope before asking me.
“Do I want to know what’s in there?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“Are you going to stay there when Ryleigh comes?” I ask, and he looks at me.