Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95393 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95393 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Are you going to make out with me before we get the kids?” he asks, and then I just stare at his smirk.
“Pick me up at two forty-five,” I correct and he bursts out laughing. “Goodbye.”
I hang up and start tackling my emails, and by the time I look back at the clock, it’s almost two forty. I rush up, going to brush my teeth before sliding my boots on and seeing that he’s just pulling into the driveway. I grab my jacket and rush out the door toward him. He’s wearing a tracksuit with his hat backward. “Hey, baby,” he greets when he sees me.
“Hi,” I say breathlessly when I get near him, wrapping an arm around him and looking up to kiss him. His lips brush mine before he opens the truck door for me. I wait for him to get into the truck before I lean over and take his hat off, just to run my fingers through his hair, before placing it back on his head.
“My girl likes to play with my hair?”
“She does,” I confirm, smiling at him. “Oh, wait. Am I your girl?”
“Smart-ass,” He laughs out.
“Does that mean you’re my boy?” I ask but then shake my head. “Sorry, my man.”
“I’m whatever you want to call me.” He pulls into his driveway and rips the seat belt off me.
“I’m going to miss this,” I say once I get in his lap. “The whole make-out sessions in the car when we finally do the deed.”
“Speaking of the deed,” he says, “I’m getting tested.”
“Um, okay,” I reply softly.
“Are you on birth control?” I nod. “Good. So when we do the deed, I’m not wearing a condom.”
“Um.”
“Unless you aren’t okay with that, then I will, but I don’t want anything between us,” he says, so I cover his fingers with mine.
“I haven’t had sex in over a year, and I was already tested. I have an IUD, so we are safe on that part.”
“Good. Now kiss me.” He smiles as my lips find his and we make out for over twenty minutes and get to the girls with seconds to spare.
“Uncle Chrissy!” Luna yells, running out toward him. He swings her up and turns her, making her laugh even more.
“Hey, princess,” he says, kissing her cheek, “how was school?”
“Okay,” she replies when he puts her down. “Tommy called me a girly girl.”
“And what did you do?” he asks her as we wait for Rain.
“I didn’t say anything to him, I went like this.” She outstretches her arms by her sides and bobs forward. “That scared him, so then I called him a girly girl.”
“Good,” Christopher says, and I just shake my head.
“Not good,” I quickly interject, “that wasn’t very nice.”
“Well, he wasn’t nice first, so it doesn’t matter,” Luna tells me.
“You can’t argue with that,” Christopher adds as Rain comes out and skips to us.
“Hi,” he says to her, kissing the top of her head, “how was school?”
“Good,” she says with a huge smile. “I have something for you.” She looks up at him and he looks at me. “It’s at home.”
“Okay,” he says, the four of us walking over to the truck.
“What are we having for dinner?” Luna asks as soon as she sits down in the truck.
“I was thinking some tomato soup and grilled cheese.” I look in the back at the girls, who give me their approval. “You good with that?”
“Yeah,” he responds to me as he makes his way back to the house.
The kids step in before us and take off their things. We have a routine, so Christopher just pulls out the stool and sits there with us.
“I’m going to go and get your thing,” Rain states, looking at him and going up to her bedroom.
“What’s going on?” He looks at me, and I just shrug, but my eyes start to get dry and burn.
“Why don’t you go in the family room and wait for her?” I motion with my chin, and he does as I say but looks over at me four times before he sits down.
Rain comes back downstairs with her hands behind her back as she goes to him. “I made you this,” she says. Her voice is low, and everything in me just stops moving. You could hear a pin drop in the whole house. She sounds so nervous and scared as she sits next to him and hands him what is in her hands.
“What’s this?” he asks, looking down at the card she made him last week at school.
“There is going to be a father-daughter dance at school,” she starts softly, “and some people are bringing their uncles or grandfathers.” Her voice trembles. “I want to bring you. It’s on Friday at the school,” she tells him what is written in the card.
He looks at her and then looks up at me, the tears already running down his face. “Of course,” he says, putting his arm around her, “it would be my honor to take you.” He kisses her head, and she gets up and runs to me.