Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
He had a point. But perhaps we could skip the part where Sebastian helped out. Dylan was plenty. He and I could set up a coffee break station on the patio, a notion that quickly grew on me. It would give me a chance to show my future brother-in-law that I was worth keeping around.
Dylan retrieved four foldable chairs and a matching table from the trunk and said it was part of the field test too. He was curious to see how much weight the patio could handle.
“Well, let me help,” I said.
Dylan nodded at the car. “Isabella’s asleep in her carrier. I’ll grab this. You get reacquainted with your niece.”
No complaints from me. I rounded the car and opened the door, and it was a precious fucking sight. Someone else would’ve thought so too. Rosie had always loved babies. We’d visited whenever David’s wife popped out another young’un, and my girl would guard the newborn with her life.
“You’re gonna love me more than you love Sebastian, li’l Bella.” I unfastened her carrier and picked it up, praying I didn’t wake her.
Between setting up the patio furniture, hooking up the heater, and turning the grill into the evening’s bonfire, we’d lost the last of the daylight, Isabella woke up, and no sign of Soph, Sebastian, and Teddy.
Dylan came out from the RV after changing Isabella’s diaper, and I decided that was a good time for me to carry her a little. She had to get to know me. Also, I had to begin her education in southern livin’. I sure as heck couldn’t count on Soph to cover that part, because she was forgetting. It was a tragedy.
“First lesson, sugar,” I said, cupping the back of her head and pressing a kiss to her cheek, “is music.”
I picked a playlist on my phone and connected to the speakers, including the soundbar under the awning. Then I refocused on Isabella as the first notes of Elle King’s “America’s Sweetheart” poured out over the patio, and I admitted to my niece that I had a minor crush on the singer. She was ballsy and brazen and had a cool voice.
“Sebastian texted.” Dylan sat down in one of the chairs. “They just left the pizza place, so they should be here in five.”
“All right.” I was getting the ab workout of the year in sheer nervousness. “I’m just gonna focus on you, little darlin’.” I kissed Isabella’s forehead and moved a bit to the music. With my hand behind her head, I held her away from me enough so I could get a look at her face, and she was a perfect mix of her mama and daddy. Big, beautiful eyes like Soph, dark hair from Dylan.
“You know what I find interesting?” Dylan asked. “You’re a nervous wreck, and he’s been so royally pissed—like I’ve never seen him. The way I see it, nothing about what you had was casual. Casual doesn’t evoke that kind of—”
“The way I see it, Daddy Dylan should shut his trap,” I cooed to Isabella. “Yes, he should.”
My perfect niece cooed right back and grabbed on to my nose, and I couldn’t help but grin at her.
“You like this music, don’t you?” I rubbed my nose against hers and growled playfully. This was the best age. They didn’t talk back, they didn’t find adults embarrassing, and they didn’t try to bail from birthday parties to go out with friends instead. They also didn’t call you out for being a bad singer.
Isabella’s eyes went wide with wonder, and she grabbed at me as I sang along with the tune, and then—and then she fucking laughed. Or squealed.
“Holy shit!” Dylan shot up from his chair and pulled out his phone. “Keep going, man. It’s her first laugh!”
I didn’t know whether to be insulted or fist-pump the air in triumph, but I went with it because the sound was amazing. So I kept singing along to the song, and I kept moving Isabella to the beat while she laughed and squeezed my nose.
Dylan filmed it and grinned like the proud daddy he was. “God—that sound. Let’s see. October 17, our daughter’s first laugh. Isabella, Daddy, and Uncle Blake on the grounds of what’s going to be our home. Mommy, you better hurry.”
Funnily enough, the headlights of a car flashed over the trees mere seconds later, and it kicked Dylan into motion. He jumped off the patio and darted toward the car.
It was a reprieve. I was with family. My nerves about Sebastian took a hike for a precious moment, and all that existed was this. Another milestone to add to my collection of firsts. I’d witnessed two of David’s kids’ first steps too, Lee-lee’s first time singing solo at a school recital, and Joshua pulling out his first loose tooth in the barn behind their house.