Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 840(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 840(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
“I think that’s my line,” he replies with a wry quirk of his lips.
“Nope, families look after each other.” At least, this little one will.
The quirk turns to a small smile as he adjusts his head on the pillow, the warmth in his gaze everything. “But I’m going to ask you to do one thing for me.”
I raise my eyebrows as though to say “oh, yeah?” half expecting that one thing to be a little salacious when his expression hardens, his gaze almost shuttering.
“I want you to promise to stay away from him.”
My brows move in the other direction now.
“You can’t think I’d go looking for him.”
“No, but it might happen the other way around. He might come looking for you and I can’t be with you all of the time. If he comes near you, you walk the other way. You don’t speak to him. Don’t let him engage you in conversation, don’t be drawn. He’s poison.”
“I don’t want to have anything to do with him,” I answer truthfully. If I could wipe this morning from my brain, I would do so happily.
“Promise me,” he adds fiercely, not satisfied with my response.
“I promise.”
“We’re going to make it impossible for him to hurt us. See that he has nothing to do with Lulu. He doesn’t have the capacity for love or empathy. He’ll only ever see things his way. He’ll use her to hurt us and rationalise it to himself as his right. So, we’re going to make sure he can never do that.”
Monday morning rolls around, and though I’m tempted to call in sick to stay home and hang out with my little girl, sense gets the better of me. I can’t dwell on the thought of Simon turning up, demanding his parental rights, even if I’d spent the night swimming in and out of dreams featuring those kinds of scenarios. I know I disturbed Carson, or maybe he wasn’t sleeping well, either, because at one point, I’d woken to Carson behind mine. As I’d clung to Lulu, he’d wrapped himself around me, kissed my head, and whispered such reassurances to me that I must’ve fallen into the darkness at some point, because I’d found myself wakening as dawn became an inky smudge on the horizon. I’d rolled into him, seeking the heat and the heft of him. He’d slid me under him, my body reaching out like a flower seeking the sun. We kissed slowly, silently, eyes burning with love, saying all the things we couldn’t speak.
And then morning came, there was no skipping school or work, despite Carson’s encouragement.
“Come on, just do it. We can all hang out. Have a popcorn and pyjama day.”
“You’re going to be a terrible father,” I’d chastised.
“Yeah, but our kids will love me.” He’d folded me into his arms, almost as though he was afraid to see my expression. Or maybe me his. “Look at how I’ve already charmed Lulu,” he’d whispered into my neck.
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Our children will be hellions, just like Lu.”
“All five of them?” he’d said, his hands drifting down to grab my bottom. “We’re going to have our hands full.
“Five,” I’d spluttered. “Dream on!”
“Angel, when I’m not with you, that’s all I do.”
Despite his honeyed words and his filthy promises, including “letting me play teacher because I already owned the outfit”. I’d chosen to wear a white shirt with cute puffed sleeves and a black pencil skirt for work this morning, which seemed to be the inspiration for his fantasy. All I needed, according to him, was to loosen a couple of buttons, keep my glasses on, and take hold of the ruler he’d acquired for me. And he wasn’t talking in euphemisms as he’d brandished an old school wooden ruler between us.
As tempting as the ridiculous offer was, complete with waggling eyebrows and promises that he’d be very, very naughty, we’d stuck to our usual Monday plans with the concession that Carson would escort Lulu to school so I could get into the office early.
We’d left the left the elevator, all three of us holding hands, drawing the approving smiles of Ed the doorman. Out on the street, Carson had kissed me quite chastely, then bent to fasten the toggles on Lulu’s new duffle coat when a quote I must’ve read somewhere springs from the back of my mind.
“No man stands taller than when he stoops to help a child.”
God, how true.
He’d straightened and swung the end of Lulu’s woollen scarf around her neck, though it had covered her face past her nose, sending the pair off into a fit of laughter. Carson is so loveable for his own sake, because of the man he is inside. But watching him with my child makes him . . . gah! Irresistible. I wouldn’t be surprised if we end up with a dozen kids.