Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
I’d listened intently all morning as he’d told her about Jenny’s favorite park — Magic Kingdom. We’d started in Tomorrowland, because it was how Jenny always started, and Ava had jumped for joy when she was just barely cleared as tall enough to ride Space Mountain. Will had dug up an old, printed photo of him and Jenny on the very same ride — Jenny smiling and yelling with her hands in the air while Will looked scared to death beside her.
It had gotten a good laugh out of all of us.
The morning zipped by in a rush of rides and food and games, along with Ava shopping her little heart out at every gift shop we passed. Our tour guide and Will were both loaded down with bags — bags Chef Patel happily held while we did most of the rides without her.
It turned out she had a major fear of rollercoasters, and also a fear of throwing up.
But I could tell that regardless of whether she rode the rides or not, Ava was happy Chef Patel was with us. She skipped and held her hand and chatted her ear off between rides, pointing at everything we passed and forcing Chef to take a picture with her and Goofy when we found him signing autograph books.
It had truly been a magical day so far — and now, we were ready to tackle the teacups ride.
At least, Ava and I were.
Arushi was sitting out, and the way Will was frowning at the ride, I wasn’t sure we wouldn’t have to beg him to join us, too.
“We could skip this one,” he offered grumpily. “We still have lots of park to cover before the fireworks.”
“But you said Mommy loved this one,” Ava reminded him, and I covered my smile with a hand as she tilted her wide eyes up at him.
No way could he say no to that look.
Will heaved a heavy sigh, looking up at the sky before he rubbed his daughter’s head. “You’re right. Let’s do it.”
“Yay!” Ava jumped into the air, clicking the heels of her light-up sneakers together before she hurriedly dumped her stuffed Dumbo into Chef’s waiting arms and took off in a sprint toward the line.
Juan took off after her as Will and I jogged to catch up. We were escorted to a shorter line, and were ushered onto the ride the very next round.
It would have been impossible for us to do Disney World the way I had in the past. Even with a tour guide and security, we’d had guests taking photos and hollering out to Will every chance they got. The more people made a scene, the more the guests around them asked who we were and got out their own phones.
Anyone who was a hockey fan knew him.
Anyone who wasn’t wanted to — because he was famous. He was a professional athlete. He was someone to take a picture of and post online and brag about being in the same vicinity of.
It was madness.
Our tour guide had offered several times for us to walk the park underground through the tunnels the staff used, but Will wanted Ava to get the full experience.
Even if that meant fending off the fans who spotted him.
“This one, this one!” Ava said, sliding into a teacup.
She scooted all the way to the back of the little bench surrounding the small round table center, and I took her left side while Will took the right.
“So the cups just spin on their own?” Ava asked when the ride attendant came by to shut the door to our teacup.
I was still chuckling at Will trying to get comfortable with how long his legs were. His knees were practically up to his chin as he grunted and forced them into the tiny space between the seats and the table in the middle.
“Yep,” he grated, and he gave me a warning look not to say otherwise.
I smiled mischievously. “Actually—”
“Chloe,” Will threatened.
It sent a shiver through me, and I found myself wondering if he’d find a fun way to punish me the next time we were alone.
I couldn’t even find it in me to be ashamed for those dirty thoughts — not since our first lesson in the kitchen last week. I felt that tantalizing burn of the Popsicle on my skin long after it had melted and we had cleaned up.
The entire thing was cemented in my mind, a delicious memory that replayed time and time again.
I still couldn’t get over it, how it felt to have his hands on me, to have his mouth on me. And how he’d managed to make me enjoy going down on him when I’d always thought that sounded like the worst thing in the world was beyond me.
I hadn’t just enjoyed it — I’d loved it. The way he looked at me, the sounds he made because of what I did to him, his hands gripping my hair and my name on his lips when he came undone… it was the most beautiful haunting.