Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“Yeah. I hear you.” I look at my baby in her arms. He’s almost outgrown them. “Liv takes care of me.”
Glancing up at me, she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. Knowing I’m being loved is enough.
She hands Max over almost reluctantly. I smile, watching her admire my son. I couldn’t have asked for more. Resituated in my arms, he’s almost asleep when he rests against me. “Want me to call you a car?”
“I’m good. I’ll catch a cab out front.” Caressing my cheek, she says, “You’re a good partner and father, Noah. They’re lucky to have you.”
“No, it’s not luck. We make the effort to be there for each other every day and every night.”
Her eyes begin to glisten, so I wrap an arm around her and bring her in to kiss her cheek. “I was lucky to have such a great role model.”
Dabbing the corner of her eyes, she says, “I’ll make sure to tell your father.” Her laughter follows her toward the door.
“You brought the jokes.”
After picking up her purse, she turns back. “He’s a good man, too, but I’ll be bragging about the role model compliment for weeks. Love you, honey.”
Chuckling, I reply, “Love you.” I lock the door behind her, then walk slowly toward Max’s bedroom. His night-light is already on in the corner, so I kiss his head when I slip inside and set him gently in his crib. “Love you, buddy.”
He’s out for the night, so I leave his room and return to the kitchen to heat the soup. It smells good, causing my stomach to growl. I’ll figure out what I’m going to eat when I have time. When I enter the bedroom with the bowl of soup, I notice she’s watching Sons of Anarchy again. “You cheating on me with Jax Teller?”
“Do you believe in hall passes?” She sure looks eager and wide awake all of a sudden for someone who’s sick. She readjusts on the bed before I hand the bowl to her. “My stomach just growled.”
“For Jax or the soup?”
“Can’t it be for both?”
Although she’s not laughing at all, I say, “I see your sense of humor is intact.” I watch her take a sip of the broth.
She hums and does a little wiggle. “It’s good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I go into the closet to pull some shorts out of the drawer. With them in hand, I add, “Max is in bed. I’m going to set up camp in the living room.”
“Not the guest room?”
“I’m going to watch TV and wind down.”
She clears her throat. “I really appreciate how you take care of us, Noah. I hate being a bother.”
“You’re never a bother. I just want you better.” I’m about to close the door to the bedroom, but stop to add, “I don’t believe in hall passes. Nothing about me could handle the thought of you with someone else.”
“I’m not running at full capacity. So why do you have to be so swoony tonight and take me down so easy?” I recognize the up-to-no-good grin sitting on her face. “And for the record, I don’t need a hall pass since I have you.”
“Not even for Jax Teller?”
“Not for Jax Teller or Charlie Hunnam. They don’t hold a candle to you or that great ass of yours, Noah Westcott.”
I balk with laughter, returning to hold my hand to her head. “You sure you don’t have a fever?”
“I’m already feeling better because of you.”
Popping my collar, I say, “You sure know how to make a guy feel good about himself.”
“I’ll promise to make you feel even better when I’m well again.”
I give her a wink, thinking it’s best if I don’t kiss her right now since she’s sick. “I’m holding you to that. Both the well and the better parts.”
This time, when I leave the room, I’m wearing the goofiest grin. I scratch the back of my neck and shake my head because the woman makes me smile even while not feeling her best.
I find a take-out container tucked in the refrigerator from the same restaurant the soup came from with grilled chicken, green beans, and potatoes. It’s not a big meal, but it will do. I’m just grateful my mom ordered something for me because I’m too tired to mess with figuring out what to eat after the weeks of long days I’ve had.
More than three months into this job, I finally convinced Mr. and Mrs. Torres to give us another chance. While I heat the meal in the microwave, I think about the details of the payments made when they worked with Chip, the long hours digging through their original contract to make sure we did the opposite. While the original contract was light on expectations, the new one sets the milestones. The lack of transparency in their first agreement set them up to be taken advantage of. It also meant that no one with a title other than owner would ever see the payments since they’re the ones who approve expenses at that level.