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)
I let the warm water wash over me before wrapping myself in a towel and then sliding into bed. The sheets are the only thing I wash on a weekly basis, every single Sunday. But I do have a set of sheets that I alternate during the week if I have anyone over.
I fall dead-ass asleep right away, but then my eyes fly open, and I toss and turn for a while before I get out of bed. Slipping on a pair of basketball shorts and jogging down the steps to the kitchen, I open the fridge and grab a cold bottle of water. Making my way to the back door, I open it and then push open the storm door before sitting on the back porch. Twisting open the white lid and looking out into the backyard, I put the bottle to my mouth and swallow all of it. My eyes look even longer when I see the light from the house next door turn on. Knowing it’s coming from the kitchen, I look over and see it’s almost 4:00 a.m. I shake my head before getting up and tossing the bottle in the recycle bin, then I walk back upstairs and crash again until the alarm on my phone wakes me.
I reach out and slam it from the side table before turning and closing my eyes again. Lying on my side, I fall back to sleep until the alarm wakes me again. I turn it off and take a second before I turn to my back and look up at the vaulted ceiling that took me over six months to sand and get the perfect molding I wanted. The antique chandelier I got at an estate sale completes the whole look of old with modern. It was the one room I didn’t know if I wanted to complete, thinking I would wait until I had a woman in my life to see what she wanted and add her input, but then I said fuck it and made it a room I wanted. Hopefully, I won’t have to modify it too much when I do get that woman.
I get out of bed and walk down to the kitchen. Starting a pot of coffee, I rub my hands over my face to wake up. The smell of coffee fills the room as I walk over to the cabinet and get a mug, pouring myself a hot cup. Then I head out to the back porch, where I have my coffee every morning.
Stepping out and sitting down at the little wrought-iron table, I put my cup down before looking out into the distance and seeing Harmony in the backyard with her son trailing her. The two of them work side by side as they pull weeds. I look at my phone and see that it’s just a little after eight in the morning, and she’s already out there doing yard work. I take a sip of my coffee when I hear her yell and then run away.
With a plastic garbage bag in her hand, her son laughs and picks up the grass snake and chases her with it. “Momma, it’s just a grass snake,” he teases. “It’s fine.”
“Wyatt, don’t you dare.” She points at him, and he just laughs. I take another sip of my coffee, thinking he doesn’t look too shaken up about his father showing up in the middle of the night.
Getting up from my table, I take one more look at them as he puts down the snake, and she walks back over to him. “Hopefully, he’s nothing like his father.”
CHAPTER 4
Harmony
I pull open the oven, grabbing the oven mitts from the counter before removing the glass baking dish from the second rack. The smell of baked apple pie wafts through the house as I walk it over to the stovetop and put it on one of the cooling racks I have set out.
I hear footsteps coming down the stairs slowly before he rounds the corner, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. “Good morning, baby,” I greet quietly as he comes to me and face-plants himself in my stomach, wrapping his arms around my waist as I bend to kiss the top of his head. “You are getting so big; I don’t have to bend too much to reach your head.” I wrap my arms around his shoulders. “Did you sleep good?”
“Yeah.” He doesn’t move from my embrace as I rock him side to side.
“You hungry?” I ask, rubbing his back, and he just nods. “What do you want? Pancakes?” I wait for him to answer, but nothing comes. “Eggs?” He nods. “Bacon?” He nods again. “On a plate or do you want one of those biscuit sandwiches?”
“Sandwich,” he mumbles, and I laugh.
“Okay, how about you go lie down on the couch, and I’ll call you over when it’s done?”