Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
That might fix the violent guilt that’s eating me to the bone.
But I could also throw myself off a bridge into the freezing Missouri River, and it would probably be easier than dealing with Patton becoming my official baby daddy.
Ugh.
“I wanna go again!” Arlo announces, bouncing up. “And we gotta get your hat.”
Retrieving my hat isn’t as easy as it seems.
Somehow, it wound up stuck in a very big tree on one of its lower branches.
I stand on my tiptoes, but that doesn’t do much good. Next, I try to pile up some snow and pack it down so I can reach for the tree’s flimsy branches.
“Lemme! I’ll get it,” Arlo says, jumping excitedly.
“You stay, big guy. This one’s a mommy job.” One firm glance silences him.
I’m dead set on us having one nice day that doesn’t end in tears or a broken arm.
Eventually, I snatch it off the branch and toss it at Arlo, who catches it and runs around in a circle like it’s the big prize.
“It’s got snow inside,” he informs me when I make my way back down. “Watch out or it’ll be wet.”
I put it on my head anyway and shudder as his warning comes true.
“Well, it’s back where it belongs now.” I take his gloved hand and we walk back up to the top of the hill together.
For a second, it’s like the world keeps shrinking.
Here, there’s just Arlo and me, laughing and having fun with no worries beyond the winter chill. Like everything just clicked in place for one brief happy moment.
Then I glance up and see him.
Patton damn Rory.
He’s left the car now and he’s standing in his thick navy-blue trench coat, his arms folded, watching us like the real-life Grinch he is.
Talk about killing the vibes.
But as we get closer, I wave at him anyway, beckoning him over to join us.
Seriously, what happened to the carefree guy I hooked up with years ago? Did he ever exist?
Or was I so drunk I completely misread him that night at the casino?
I’m still wondering when Arlo flings himself at Patton the second he sees him approaching.
“Mr. Rory!” He remembers his manners today.
Good.
It’s progress that he doesn’t instantly go with Grumpybutt.
“Come sledding with us. Have fun.”
“Sledding?” Patton’s gaze flicks to me and I prepare myself for the inevitable dismissal. He’s too busy, too important, too boring to relinquish his dignity for playing around in the snow.
“Yes.” Arlo takes Patton’s hand and tugs. “You go so fast and you get to do it over and over. Right, Mommy?”
“We’ve had a lot of fun, yes.” Melted snow drips down the back of my neck from my hat and I shiver. “But don’t bother him, honey.”
“It’s fine,” Patton says, grabbing the sled from Arlo and positioning it at the top of the run. He puts one foot on it.
I have to rub my eyes as he looks at my son and asks, “So I do it like this, munchkin?”
What. Am. I. Seeing.
Patton, sprouting an actual sense of humor, partaking in something that isn’t money driven?
“No!” Arlo giggles, his face flushed with excitement. “You gotta sit on it or you’ll go snow surfing and then you’ll fall on your face.”
“Silly me. I thought it felt flimsier than the snowboards I remember when I was a kid.” His eyes find mine.
I die a little right there, imagining him as a teenage punk with a snowboard tucked under one arm.
Maybe that’s why he’s doing this.
The nostalgia bug must’ve bit him.
“Like this, then?” Patton watches Arlo as he sits.
I guess it’s my turn to feel the nostalgia bug’s teeth. For a heartbeat, he looks just like the man I met that night my life changed, and it feels like six years haven’t passed us by.
But I turn away before more incriminating thoughts eat me up—like how devilishly good he looks when he smiles with that obscene blue light in his eyes.
It’s so much more lively and attractive than the brass tacks beast he is at the office.
“Hmm, I think I’m still missing something.” Patton gently grabs Arlo, pulling him onto the front of the sled and wrapping an arm protectively around him.
He glances at me, a silent promise that he won’t let anyone get hurt.
As soon as I nod, they’re gone.
Crazy fast.
Faster than I went with Arlo, whipping down the hill like a rocket.
Maybe it’s the extra weight, or maybe it’s the way Patton leans forward, adjusting their center of balance with a wild grin etched on his face.
Either way, my chest tightens until my heart might break with mixed emotions.
Bittersweet confusion, a potent blend I don’t know how to deal with, much less digest.
Why’d he have to go and pick today of all days to be a decent man? When Arlo’s around, when he’s with his son?
Also, the same day his son just spent the morning with his flipping grandmother.