Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“That’s very nice of him.” Yep, I wasn’t going to ask. “Alright, which one sounds best for our lunch? We can have soup and sandwiches or we can have spaghetti and meatballs.”
“Oh.” Alick scrunched his face up. “I like ’sketti but soup makes Kenzie sad, so I don’t eat it much.”
Huh?
Nope.
“Then how about we have soup and sandwiches now so he doesn’t have to see the soup.” I wasn’t going to ask about that ridiculousness either. “I have chicken and stars?”
“Really?” Alick seemed to think that was amazing.
“Yep.” Nodding, I started making circles in the tiny kitchen space, getting everything out. “For some reason, I ended up at Walmart the other day, so I bought a few things I was hoping my mate would like.”
Alick’s eyes went wide. “I was there. I bought the big noodle kind.”
Fucking hell.
“Somehow, I should’ve expected that.” I’d probably been just minutes behind him. “I’m very glad I found you, baby boy.”
He giggled, looking mischievous. “So you don’t have to drive and drive anymore.”
I laughed, because he was right. “I get to spend my time with you instead.”
If I never drove again, it would be too soon.
Hell, shifting and just carrying the trailer sounded better.
“You can come with me when I work sometimes, Daddy.” Alick’s earnest response made me smile…and it made me think.
“If you already told me this, I’m going to apologize, but what do you do, baby boy? I got distracted when we first met.” My explanation got more giggles from him but he seemed to understand.
Sitting taller and shifting side to side like he was practicing being a big boy, he answered the question proudly. “I work in a plant nursery and I make people’s yards pretty.”
“Hey, we’re both creative. I like that.” Knowing we had more than just age play in common made me feel more confident.
Alick’s eyes widened, though. “I’m creative too?”
Huh?
“Yes.” Turning around so I could lean over and kiss his head, I nodded and did my best to look decisive. “I bet you make lots of decisions every day about what flowers and plants look pretty together. It’s not just about making sure stuff doesn’t die. You’re an artist, baby boy.”
Although I was going to have to ask more questions about what his job actually entailed.
Right away.
So as I straightened, I made sure to mention that. “You’ll tell me all about it, right? I can’t wait to hear all about your job.”
His excitement was at enthusiastic little levels, so I knew he loved his job. “I do like making the flowers pretty, Daddy. I’ll tell you all about it.”
“And you can tell me all about what you like to eat and what you like to play?” Leading us back toward the information that would make it easier for us to enjoy our lunch, I shifted back to the stove and worked on opening the soup.
“And I need to know what kind of desserts you like and what foods are yucky.” That got an adorable snicker out of him. “Like, I don’t even know what’s yucky for sandwiches.”
Giving him a teasing shocked look, I held up mustard and peanut butter. “Are these yucky?”
Giggles poured out of him as he shook his head. “Just not together, Daddy. Peanut butter goes with jelly and mustard goes with meat. I like ham and turkey and tuna and roast beef…and…”
Frowning when it seemed like he couldn’t remember everything he liked, he shrugged. “Um, I don’t like the spicy lettuce and I don’t like slimy things.”
Nodding, I studied the ingredients I’d laid out. “I don’t think I have anything slimy and I don’t have the spicy lettuce, just the sweet and crunch kind.”
“That’s good. Sometimes Kenzie’s Daddy only has the spicy kind, so I have to be polite.” Alick sighed like it was painful. “But Kenzie only makes cupcakes and cookies, so if we eat at his house, his Daddy cooks.”
That information did not surprise me.
“I’m proud of you for being a good guest.” And spicy lettuce wouldn’t hurt him even if it wasn’t his favorite. “But do you eat slimy things over there?”
I was kind of hoping he’d give me a clue about what a slimy sandwich ingredient would be.
“No.” Relief was clear in his voice. “I don’t think Kenzie’s Daddy likes it either.”
So it was one type of food?
“I’m glad.” I was still confused, but I pushed the questions to the back of my head since my current array of ingredients hadn’t gotten dramatics from my cute little mate. “That reminds me, though, why doesn’t Kenzie like soup?”
That got me a dissertation on textures and foods being mixed and an odd story about it being a punishment, but it was fascinating and filled in a few blanks I had about his friends. By the time I had the soup heated up and several different kinds of sandwiches made, I knew a lot more about his life than when I’d started.