Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Fuck,” I mumbled as I reached down and adjusted my hard dick. Sex with Palmer was unlike anything I had ever experienced in my entire life. And it wasn’t only because I had damn near almost forgotten what sex was like. No, it was because I had made love to Palmer. Hearing her call out my name was like music to my ears. The feeling of her body falling apart around me was the most beautiful gift I’d ever been given. And losing myself inside of her…shit.
I wanted to do that every day for the rest of my life.
I pulled on a pair of sweats and a long-sleeve T-shirt. My wish that Charlie would sleep in had obviously come true. Whenever I slept longer than him, he was always knocking on my door to wake up, asking for breakfast. The kid had a healthy appetite.
Since all was quiet, I decided to head down to the kitchen to make some coffee before waking up Charlie. Palmer had most certainly gone back to her place, where she would analyze and overthink what we had done, but I hoped she’d come to the same conclusion as me. We were made for one another.
As I approached the kitchen, I heard giggling. Charlie and…
My heart stopped as I paused outside the kitchen. Palmer was still here, and she was with Charlie. I leaned against the wall and listened to their conversation.
“Where did you learn to make dog pancakes?” Charlie asked.
“Well, you know how my mom and dad own the Seaside Grill?”
“Yeah.”
I could hear mixing in a metal bowl. “My parents love to cook and bake, so when I was growing up, they taught me how to make all kinds of things. On Sunday mornings when they didn’t work, they’d always make us special pancakes. Sometimes they would be puppies or cats. My dad even made bunnies on Easter mornings.”
“Will you teach me how to make your special pancakes?”
Palmer started to speak and her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and answered, “Of course, Charlie. I’ll teach you whatever you’re interested in knowing.”
“Like painting?”
“Yes, just like painting.”
There was some shuffling as they moved around the kitchen, and then Charlie spoke again. “I really like to paint. Do you think I could be as good as you someday?”
“I know you can be. You’re already very talented. Much more than I was at your age.”
“Really?” he asked in an excited voice.
“Yep. And I’ll even show you how to make things with the sea glass we find on the beach.”
“Sea glass? Cool!”
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall. In the five years since I’d had Charlie, I’d never once wished for a mother figure. In my mind, I could do it all. I knew having a mother could be positive for Charlie, but I wasn’t about to open my heart to anyone and chance them hurting my son.
I’d always had an idea of the perfect person in the back of my mind, though. She would love me and Charlie unconditionally. She would teach Charlie all the amazing things my mother had taught me, and show him what it means to be a good man. But her face was always blurred in my mind—until the day Palmer had walked up to our booth and started talking to us.
Since that moment, whenever I pictured that perfect woman, it was Palmer Bradley.
These last few weeks, it felt like Palmer had been a part of our world forever. It wasn’t a question of if I could fall in love with her; after last night, I knew that the woman currently teaching my son how to make the perfect pancake was the love of my life. And I would do anything and everything to prove to her that she was the only woman who would ever own my heart.
“How come your pancakes taste better than Daddy’s and Grammy’s?”
I smiled and rubbed my chest where it felt like my heart was beating faster than normal.
“It’s because of a secret ingredient my mother told me about.”
“Tell me! Oh, tell me, Ms. Palmer!”
A sweet laugh filled the air as Palmer chuckled. “Do you promise to keep it a secret? Only you can know.”
Charlie must have been thinking about it because he finally said, “But I promised Daddy I would never keep secrets from him.”
“That’s a good promise to keep with your daddy. You can tell him, then.”
“Then I promise.”
“Ready?” Palmer asked. “You have to be really, really, reeeeeally ready.”
Charlie giggled. “I’m so ready!”
“The secret ingredient is…”
It dawned on me that I was holding my breath. I could only imagine what Charlie was doing.
“Tell me!” Charlie pleaded.
“Cinnamon!”
A long pause ensued. “That’s it?”
I pushed off the wall and walked into the kitchen.
“Why do I feel like Charlie also thought that was rather anticlimactic?” I said.