Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
“What’s so funny?” I ask, my voice betraying what I’d rather be doing with her than burning our lunch.
“Nothing,” she says, swaying her hips from side to side. “I’m just glad we came. This is nice.”
I glance at the garden where my sisters-in-law are laughing about something as Lina tosses the lettuce in Maxime’s homemade salad dressing and the men are watching the kids.
“Yes,” I agree. “It’s nice.”
Ian throws me a beer. “I’m taking Josh fishing after lunch. Want to come?”
I catch the bottle in mid-air. “Why not? With your skills in the bait department, he’ll never get a bite.”
“We’ll see.” Ian uncorks the wine. “A hundred bucks say I’ll pull out the first one.”
Zoe comes down the porch steps, dusting one hand on her skirt and carrying a baguette in the other. “The gratin is ready. When the kids have washed up, we can eat.” She stops next to me. “Thanks for being on barbecue duty, Leon.”
“Any time.”
“Um.” She scrunches up her face as she looks at the meat. “Maybe not any time soon again.”
“Hey,” I call after her as she walks away laughing. “Don’t tell me Maxime’s barbecue is always perfect.”
“Always,” she sing-songs, waving the baguette. “He’s too much of a perfectionist to not serve the meat exactly á point.”
I watch her as she goes to the table and cuts the baguette. She looks the same and yet very different from how I remember her. She’s no longer the frail, frightened little girl who hid in the broom closet, but there’s still something vulnerable and innocent about her. As unscrupulous as Maxime is, I’m glad Zoe has him to watch out for her. Not that she can’t take care of herself. I just feel better knowing Maxime will never let anything happen to her or Jean.
When Josh’s turn on the swing is finished, Damian ushers him and Josie inside to wash their hands while Maxime installs Jean in a bassinet in the shade next to the table.
“I’ll be right back,” Zoe says, pressing a kiss on Maxime’s cheek. “I’m going to fetch the gratin. Do you mind watching Jean for a little while longer?”
“Of course not, chérie,” he says, wrapping an arm around her waist and dragging her against him for a deeper kiss.
Zoe hurries past me with a pink tint to her cheeks as I carry the dish with the meat to the table.
Taking my place next to Violet, I cup her knee. “Did you speak to Zelda?”
“She says not to worry. She watered the plants, and our house is still standing.”
“How’s she doing?”
“It’s a difficult pregnancy, but she and Sam are happy. They want to have dinner with us at Oscars again when we get back.”
“Sounds good. I’ll make a reservation.”
“I was thinking,” she says, brushing our shoulders together.
My gaze is drawn to the scrumptious curve of her lips. “Thinking what?”
As she bites her lip, watching me for a moment, the voices around us fade away. I’m incognizant of the conversations around us. All I can think about is what I’m going to do with her when I finally get her alone tonight.
“Thinking what?” I repeat, drawing circles with my thumb on her knee.
She takes a deep breath and lowers her voice. “That when I’ve finished the last book on my current contract, I could go off the pill.”
That warm fuzziness in my chest intensifies, prematurely jumping from expectation to pride. Still, I search her eyes. She’s young. I don’t want her to feel pressured just because I’m thirty-five and ready. “That’s what you want? You’re sure?”
“Yes,” she says with a soft smile. “I’d like that very much.”
I squeeze her knee, my heart pounding with animalistic intentions. It takes everything and then some not to drag her to our room right now. Only, as I imagine her with our baby in her belly, the protectiveness that surges through my veins multiplies a hundred-fold. Fuck. I’ll go nuts letting her go anywhere if I can’t be there to protect her.
Jean balls his little fists and fusses as he kicks his feet.
“Do you want me to take him?” Violet asks Maxime.
“Thanks, but I’ve got him,” my brother-in-law says, all but grabbing his son. “He’s eaten not so long ago.” He bounces Jean in one arm and gently rubs his back. “He just needs to be burped.”
“You better take tips,” Violet whispers in my ear.
I plant a kiss on her neck. “You bet I am.”
“I’m starving,” Cas says, passing the salad to Violet. “It must be the long walk this morning.”
“Do you still want to visit the clifftop village?” Lina asks. “We can go in the late afternoon when it’s cooler.”
“I know a good restaurant there,” Maxime says, cupping Jean’s head with a broad palm. “I can make a booking. It’ll give us a night off from cooking.”
Everyone hums their agreement.