Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“And Mazzy is like family, right?” she asks.
“Right,” Foster says with a firm nod. “And also a very good friend.” He then turns to me. “What do you have going on the rest of the day?”
“Just going to relax at my parents’ house. Maybe read a book.”
“She should come with us for pizza and bowling,” Bowie Jane says, reaching out and taking my hand in hers. “Will you come?”
“Oh, honey,” I reply, giving her a squeeze, and cutting my eyes to Foster briefly. “I don’t want to impose on you and your dad’s time together. You and I can do bowling and pizza some other time when Dad’s on a road trip.”
“You should come,” Foster says, and I’m stunned by the invitation. I could totally see Bowie Jane asking me because she and I have really clicked this week.
I don’t know what to say so I stall for time, glancing at my watch as I take stock of my feelings. In my other nannying jobs, my days off were not just for me to decompress and recharge, but it was also a time for busy parents to bond with their kids. Not once was I ever invited to a family event, no matter how close I’d grown to my charges.
Pointing out that this time is precious to Foster and Bowie Jane and they should take advantage of it is the honest truth and I should insist they adhere to that. But part of me is flattered by the invitation and another part is actually excited and intrigued by it.
My conscience whispers that I have no right to be excited or intrigued by any of this, especially because it’s probably got more to do with the handsome dad inviting me to spend the day with them when he clearly doesn’t need my help. Foster is an incredibly capable single dad and there’s no purpose for me joining them.
“Please, please, please come with us, Mazzy,” Bowie Jane pleads.
“If we aren’t interfering with your plans,” Foster says, “I think you should come. It’s just more opportunity for us all to get to know each other and with the season starting next week, it’s about to get crazy.”
My attention darts between Bowie Jane—face screwed up in an adorable pout—and Foster, whose stare is intense and hypnotic.
“Okay, fine… yes, I’d love to come,” I finally say and push aside the tiny bit of guilt that I’m crossing a line.
A hand comes down on my shoulder, slides to the side of my neck. I know it’s Leo but I’m stunned to see Foster’s eyes flash hot, then turn ice-cold as he looks at my friend standing behind me. He doesn’t know that Leo’s touch is innocent and only born of friendship. We’re familiar with each other that way but for some reason, I feel like it’s too intimate under Foster’s discerning gaze.
“Want to grab some lunch?” Leo asks me genially, his smiling eyes taking in Foster and Bowie Jane before coming back to me. “I’ve got some new material to go over with you.”
“Actually,” I say, turning to face him, which dislodges his hand. “I’m going to hang out with these two.” I throw a thumb over my shoulder. “Leo… this is Foster and Bowie Jane McInnis.”
Leo reaches out to shake Foster’s hand as I tell him, “This is my best friend and music partner, Leo Stratham.”
“Nice to meet you,” Leo says and then glances down at Bowie Jane. He’s not the best with kids, so he merely lifts his chin at her. His attention comes back to me. “No worries. We can go over it tomorrow at family dinner. What’s your mom making?”
I laugh, giving him a playful slap to his stomach. “I have no clue but your belly will be happy. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“See ya,” he says, and then does a classic Leo move and puts both hands to my face, pulls me into him and presses a hard kiss to the top of my head.
Brotherly. Friendly. He’s done it hundreds of times.
But it still feels too intimate with Foster and Bowie Jane standing there.
Leo nods at Foster and heads back to the small stage to collect his guitar.
“So, is he a casual boyfriend?” Bowie Jane asks, and I almost choke I inhale so quickly.
I whirl around, aghast. “No, he’s not a boyfriend.”
“Then why did he kiss you?” she asks.
“That was just a friend kiss. Not a romantic kiss.”
“Romantic kisses are on the mouth, right?” Bowie Jane asks for clarification.
At this point, my cheeks are on fire and I look to Foster for help. He’s grinning like a Cheshire cat, enjoying the exchange. I give my attention back to Bowie Jane, put on a bright smile, and say, “How about we go bowling?”
CHAPTER 13
Foster
Bowie Jane steps up to the lane, her pink bowling ball poised before her. My daughter is tall for her age, standing at four feet ten inches. The DNA was stacked in her favor because Sandra is five ten.