Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 131459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Work: Mika’s work was about inspiration, not location. She told him she could work anywhere. Unless it was the end game, then she needed to be in either her East Coast or West Coast studio. Tom was not giving up his practice, so that was an issue they needed to resolve.
Religion: Mika’s mother was Jewish, her father Catholic. Mika was free-spirited with that, but leaned Jewish and was careful to raise Cadence in the Jewish faith in respect to her mother. Tom was non-denominational Christian.
Exes: Mika’d had no relationships since Rollo, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have what she described as “fun.” Tom shared the fullness of his relationship-non-relationship with Paloma. And other than Paloma, since Genny, none.
He was concerned there was no one serious for her since Rollo. It had been nineteen years.
He resolved to discuss that later.
Day to day: she took cream in her coffee, he did too. She liked her steak rare, as did he. She liked spicy and didn’t mind reaching for an antacid before bed to get her hit. Tom, the same. She had no issues with nudity, and he could smell her excitement ratchet up when he ordered her to suck his cock. He liked both of those traits tremendously.
In other words, they got on spectacularly.
Now, they were getting to the even better stuff.
He got to watch her with her daughter in her space.
He and Mika had begun.
Now it was about seeing if they could blend together a family.
It had been so long, Tom almost didn’t recognize the feeling he was experiencing.
But he did.
He was happy.
The only pall on this was that Genny was avoiding him. He hadn’t spoken with her since the Sunday she ran out of his place (Bowie either). And his texts to her went completely unanswered. The only time he heard from her was in group family texts, where she’d reply to Chloe, Matt, Sasha and in a general way, him.
Nothing direct.
Tom was friends with Bowie, and against the odds, they’d gotten close. But no two men in their positions could be that good of friends. Therefore, in no way could he phone Bowie and make sure everything was all right with Bowie’s wife, and Tom’s ex.
And he wasn’t asking Chloe. Teaching her to keep her nose out of things didn’t include giving her a reason to stick it in.
Since Sasha was nursing a snit against him too, she was out. And Tom treated his recovering relationship with Matt with the utmost care. No way in hell he was going to mention to his son that he was having issues with his mother.
He wasn’t angry, but he was concerned.
He’d caught up with Genny and Bowie outside his house after she’d seen him with Mika. She’d assured him she was okay, she just felt embarrassed they’d walked in on Tom and Mika that way.
She was a shit liar.
She’d then apologized profusely that they’d let themselves into his place without knocking.
That was an issue. He was Chloe’s father, but they were both adults. It wasn’t okay for her to invade his space at her whim.
And straight up, that wasn’t Genny’s anymore.
He’d forgiven her, but he could tell it wasn’t about that.
It was about Mika.
Right then, however, it wasn’t about Genny, and he wasn’t going to regress to a state where it was.
It was about Tom. And Mika.
And getting to the even better stuff.
He parked at the front of Mika’s house, and she was coming out the door as he was walking toward it.
She closed the door behind her but didn’t approach.
When he got close, she jumped him and went at him so hard, he had to drop his overnight bag to hold her more fully in his arms.
He was making out with her the same time he was laughing.
She broke the kiss, smiling.
“Hey,” she greeted.
“Hey,” he replied.
“Are you ready to be wowed by our culinary repertoire?”
“Absolutely.”
She grinned, let him go and bent to pick up his bag.
“Hup,” he grunted.
Her beautiful hair flew as she turned her head to him.
He reached into her and took the bag.
“Such a throwback,” she mumbled, going for the door.
“She likes a caveman in bed but bitches about him out of it.”
“True, true,” she agreed, shooting him a grin and leading the way. “Toss it at the foot of the stairs, we’ll take it up later.”
He did that.
She nabbed his hand and led him into a room that was pinks and wicker and books and candles (now lit) and leafy plants. It was inviting and there was a fire crackling and both Nora and Cadence were there, each with their own martini glass filled with a liquid that was something vaguely yellowish green.
“Don’t judge,” Nora ordered, lifting her glass to him. “I got inspired with some pear juice. The color leaves a lot to be desired, but what it lacks in aesthetic, it makes up with flavor.”