Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Lina could go through five outfits before she had finally settled on the one she wanted to wear, and even then, she could change the bow in her hair four times, and her shoes a half of a dozen times because they didn’t match well enough.
And none of that mattered right then.
He could hear his wife talking to Lucky.
Hear Lina calling for Siena from the bathroom.
Knew he should move and get up to help her ready the kids for school and pre-K.
And yet, there he sat, staring like a fucking idiot at this thing in his hands. Because he couldn’t do anything else but stare at it. He didn’t know what in the hell to do but sit here and stare at it like the cafone he apparently was.
This wasn’t the first time.
Not the second.
And still, he was stunned.
Hadn’t they said they were done?
Hadn’t they been careful?
Hadn’t they—
“John?”
He glanced up at his wife’s quiet call of his name. Siena leaned in the bedroom doorway with a small, knowing smile as her gaze drifted from the piece of plastic in his hands to the shocked expression on his face. He’d been wearing that same expression ever since she came out of their bathroom that morning, and put this goddamn test in his hands.
A pregnancy test.
“Lucky is ready,” she said.
John nodded. “All right.”
“You’re taking him this morning.”
“I know, Siena.”
“It happened, in case you’re curious, because apparently were just that lucky point-zero-zero-one percent of people who a IUD fails for, John.”
“I didn’t really wonder ...”
“You’re wondering a little,” she said.
John let out a heavy breath. “A little, yeah. I just ...”
“What?”
“Christ, aren’t we too old for another kid?”
Siena lifted a single brow high. “Well, I am not too old.”
John heard her teasing, and he chuckled. “Low blow, babe.”
“You’re not too old, John.”
“Forty-two is—”
“Not too old,” she said simply. “It’s just a shock because it seems like we’ve never planned for any of our kids, they just come into our lives, and make themselves at home here. And you know what? It’s always felt like they were exactly where they belonged, John.”
They had.
Forever.
A shouting match started out in the hallway behind Siena between Luciano and Lina. The two kids were like cats and dogs—and surprisingly, not because the little one irritated the older one like most siblings would do. No, it was because Lina was a little too particular about her things, and Lucky just didn’t give a shit.
World.
War.
Three.
Regularly.
Kids were great.
And he meant that in all honesty.
Siena didn’t even pay attention to their kids—as usual, the two would work it out or Lina would get her way. Just like her mother.
His wife came in the bedroom, and closed the space between them. Siena’s hands came to land on John’s thighs overtop his slacks at the same time she bent down and pressed a hard kiss to his lips. Everything was always so fast for them in their mornings—their house was always on some kind of go, non-stop.
He liked it that way.
Thrived in their chaos.
And yet, with a kiss, she slowed his whole world down for a few seconds. Every stroke of her lips against his calmed his racing heart, and reminded him of why his life was good and perfect and great. Why she was good and perfect ... and oh, so great.
And them, too.
Yeah, they were all of those things, too.
All too soon for his liking, Siena pulled away, but she didn’t go far. Her hands were still resting on his thighs, and she was still close enough to make all of his focus zone in on only her. Next to the moments he got with his kids, Siena was always the best part of his days.
All these years ...
All this time ...
It was still only ever going to be her for him. There could never be anyone else when his whole life had just been this woman—and even before she had come into his life and turned him entirely upside down to make him into this far better version of himself, he didn’t think about that time. He rarely ever acknowledged it.
Didn’t want to, really.
His life didn’t matter until her.
It couldn’t.
“I know I put you through some shit sometimes,” he murmured.
Siena grinned in that way of hers. “I wouldn’t have you any other way, John.”
He nodded. “I know—but I think I don’t tell you nearly enough and if you think that I do, then I don’t think that I do.”
“You do.”
Yeah, but still ...
“I love you, Siena.”
She kissed him again, whispering against his lips, “I love you more, John.”
Not possible.
He’d let her believe it, anyway.
*
“Forty-two,” John murmured against the rim of his beer bottle.
His father glanced over at him, and asked, “What are you going on about?”
“I’m forty-two years old.”
“You’re just realizing this ... or?” Lucian glanced at the beer. “I know you don’t drink anything harder than beer, but do you think maybe you should lay off that today if you’re confused or something?”