Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
I take the fastest shower I have ever taken. No shaving. I’m not sure I got off all the grease. If Josie has another moment, I don’t want it to be when she’s alone with my mom and Reagan. When I get to the kitchen, Mom’s putting the lid on the brownie pan, Reagan’s at the kitchen table coloring, and Josie’s standing behind her, braiding her hair.
It’s normal. I think. I’ve never seen Josie braid hair, but clearly she can. It seems a little motherly of her, but she’s not the motherly type. Maybe Reagan asked her to, but I kind of doubt it. When my gaze shifts from Josie’s hands in my daughter’s hair to Josie’s face, she’s eyeing me with more focus than she’s had in the past hour.
I smile. It feels real, but maybe I’m missing the mark. She frowns and slowly undoes the braid before clearing her throat. “Thanks for the brownie. I need to get home.”
“Well, give me a hug in case I don’t see you again before my flight.” Mom hugs Josie, and Josie lightly rests her hands on my mom’s arms. Even her hug is off.
“Bye, Reagan.” Josie’s hand starts to move toward Reagan’s head like she’s going to rest it there while saying goodbye, but she stops inches from the crown of her head and balls her hand into a fist, returning it to her side.
“Colten, I’m … unwell. You have to protect yourself … protect your daughter.”
Reagan mumbles a soft goodbye.
I follow Josie to the front door. “Stay,” I whisper just as she reaches for the handle.
She turns. “You looked mortified when you saw me braiding her hair.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t know you could braid hair. That’s all.”
With a headshake, she frowns. “That wasn’t a look of wonder or surprise. That was the look of a protective father.”
Again, my head eases side to side. “You’re wrong.”
“I have to work in the morning. I don’t have anything here.”
“Stay anyway.”
She attempts a smile. “We have the rest of our lives, right?”
“I’m more of a seize the moment kind of guy.”
Opening the door, she chuckles. “No. You’re not. Seventeen years ago, you could have seized the moment, but you didn’t. And since then, you’ve had roughly one hundred forty-eight thousand, nine hundred and twenty hours to seize the moment. To find me. You didn’t. And Reagan is one of the reasons. That’s okay. You are now and always will be a father first.” The corner of her mouth curls a little. “When I went hunting with my dad, he once told me that he didn’t know what kind of man he was until he became a father. You’re a good father, Colten, and a good man.”
I let her get two steps out the door before I follow her to her car. “Wait until you see what kind of husband I’m going to be.”
At the driver’s door, she turns, hands sliding up my chest and around my neck. She’s right; Reagan is my world. I can’t change that nor would I ever want to. But Josephine Watts owns some serious real estate behind my ribcage.
“Everything has fine print,” she says, staring at my chest while her fingers play along the nape of my neck. “Reagan is your fine print. If we don’t make it to the altar, she’s the fine print. I know it. You know it. Don’t pretend we don’t.”
“That little firecracker in there? I’m still trying to figure her out. It’s only been five years. But you … I know you. The best parts. And I laid claim to them many years ago. I don’t need fine print.”
I’m ready, completely anticipating a rebuttal.
Nothing.
She lifts onto her toes and pulls me toward her, giving me a slow kiss. Despite the air of melancholy around us, I kiss her, wrapping my future in my arms. Fuck the fine print or what she thought I was thinking earlier. I am not losing her again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Don’t interrupt. Just listen. And don’t judge. She’ll be wearing a very thin gown, and you’ll see everything beneath it. I’ll change into a gown as well, just be cool. And if by some chance she asks you to wear one, take off all your clothes and just do it. No questions asked,” I say to Colten before we get out of the rental car parked in a spot out front of Athelinda’s.
“I feel blindsided and a little pre-violated. You had two weeks and a four-hour flight to tell me this, but I’m just now being told?”
When I don’t respond to his humor, he reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “Josie, I feel like aliens landed, and I didn’t believe in them, but now they’re here and there’s no denying it. I’m trying to figure out how to adjust my thoughts to include aliens.”