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)
“I did.” Should I be this proud of a lobster? I’m probably setting her up for disappointment if she’s going off my grin that matches hers. Guess we’ll see.
I give her the present, and I take Max, both of us winning in the exchange. “Hi, Max.”
Max reaches for the brightly colored paper and white bow. “Don’t worry, bud, I have goodies for you too.”
Liv pulls the bow off and says, “I never really liked surprises, but I have to admit I’m excited about this one.” Her sing-song voice has Max mesmerized. She tickles his tummy, receiving the biggest giggle in return. “Are you happy to see Dad—” Her eyes dart to mine as if she’s done something wrong and is afraid of the repercussions.
We still, but I’m not sure why. “It’s okay.”
She turns back to Max. “Are you happy to see Daddy?”
Reaching out for me, Max says, “Dada.” Most amazing kid ever.
“He’s the smartest kid ever.” My eyes return to Liv. “Am I allowed to say that?”
The question has her doing a double take. She laughs. “Of course. He’s yours.”
Mine.
He’s mine.
I’m his daddy.
God, it strikes me every time. I’m a lucky fucking bastard.
I hold him to my chest as his fingers run mindlessly along my prickly chin. His eyes look into mine, and I tell him, “You’re so smart, Max.”
The paper is ripped, but Liv stops to stare at us. “He was born with deep blue eyes. Around seven or eight months, though, they started changing. I always thought they resembled mine, but seeing you two together, it’s obvious where he gets the coloring from.”
I hadn’t said anything to her, not shared my concerns regarding the sudden change in my life, in her life as well. But somehow, she knew. She knew that I needed to hear I’m a part of something bigger than myself, making me realize that it’s not just the two of them. It’s the three of us.
Max and I look at each other again and grin. She says, “Like father, like son.”
Like father, like son.
That hits deep, causing my heart to swell.
I have so many questions that need an answer and so many details to figure out, but right now, holding my son and spending time with Liv, I realize there’s no rush. We’re good as is, and it will only get better.
“You got me a lobster?” She sets the paper down in the stroller and holds the stuffed animal to her chest. “It’s really cute.”
“I wanted something to remember when we met. A lobster was the closest thing I could find that reminded me of the Hamptons.”
“Well, we do have Max.” She laughs. I do when I realize yep, we have this memory for the rest of our lives. “But I love this lobster. I love it because you thought of me when you saw it.” She leans up and kisses me. Max grabs the lobster, but she’s okay sharing. “Seems we both love it.”
“I’m glad.”
Taking hold of the stroller, she asks, “Are you ready?”
I lean over and give her another kiss. Just because I want to.
Her eyebrow arches as she licks the corner of her lips. “What was that for?”
“For him. For you. For us.” I signal toward the corner. “I’m ready.”
21
Noah
“I don’t think I’ve gone to bed before ten o’clock since I was in middle school,” I say, fighting a yawn.
The afternoon flew by with lunch and then a nap for Max. He opened his present but was more interested in the box and paper than the cars. Harbor won’t be impressed since his career revolves around high-end custom cars. But I have no doubt that when Max actually knows what a car is, it’s something he can bond with not only me but also his uncle.
Now that he’s settled in bed for the night and we’ve binged four episodes of Sons of Anarchy, I’m fighting sleep. It was busy all morning and kept going once we got home.
Home . . .
The word catches on the end of my tongue. Huh. I’m not sure what to do with that. I’m sure it’s just a turn of phrase that came without great meaning. It’s probably best if I ignore the inner alarms sounding in my head. What good are the alarms when they tell me to move forward instead of away? Maybe I should listen rather than disregard.
I hold Liv a little tighter as we lie on the couch together. She yawns. “Welcome to parenthood. I’m in a constant state of exhaustion.”
That yawn is my gateway. I go for it. “Since we’re both kind of tired, do you want to—”
“Go to sleep?” She turns in my arms, seemingly wide awake now. This is not what I was going for. Well, the awake part works but not the sleep.
“Since it’s Saturday night, I was kind of thinking we’d go into the bedroom.” Hint.