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)
Lucky climbed up on the couch and sat beside his father, fat palm already overturned and waiting for another cookie.
“You had two already,” John said.
Lucky gave a pointed look at the whole pile of cookies in his lap. He didn’t say anything. Just stared at the fucking things.
Andino cleared his throat, and looked away to hide his smile.
Then, very quietly, Lucky said, “Ma likes those cookies, Da. They Ma’s.”
Yes, they were.
Three, and he already understood blackmail.
John handed his kid another cookie.
Lucky jumped down from the couch, and headed out of the living room without as much as a look over his shoulder. Having got what he wanted, he was now moving onto bigger and better things.
Typical Lucky.
John sighed.
“Raising him right, man.” Andino smirked at his cousin. “He really is going to do great things.”
“I know. That’s what terrifies me.”
And excited him.
Yeah, that, too.
*
Siena POV
Siena opened the pantry to find ... nothing.
Well, not nothing.
But a hell of a lot of nothing!
“John!”
“What?”
“Where is my Moon Pie?”
She didn’t get a response.
Siena’s gaze narrowed on the empty shelf where her pack of chocolate mint flavored Oreo cookies should be. “And my cookies, too?”
Silence still answered her back.
She bet that if she looked in the fridge, the rest of the cheesecake she had left from the night before would also be gone. Along with whatever ice cream was in the freezer, and whatever else John had found to satisfy his sweet tooth in the meantime.
It always happened.
Med changes were hard. Sometimes, it was mood swings that seemed unstoppable, and other times he just wanted to sleep for days. And then there were times like this when he was just fucking hungry. Something he couldn’t satisfy at all, and he would eat anything as long as it was sweet.
It was most difficult when it was a mixture of several things—hunger, tiredness, or the moods. After being married this long, she was used to it.
Never failed.
“John!”
Her husband’s sheepish face popped in the kitchen entryway just as Siena came out of the panty. “Sorry.”
“I was saving that Moon Pie,” Siena said sadly.
“Want me to go get you some? The store down the block has them in singles.”
She shrugged. “Well, maybe I’ll just make Whoopie Pies now, anyway.”
John’s eyes lit up. “I’m game for that.”
Of course, he was.
It made her smile.
“You’re lucky you spend most of the day on your feet, and half of your morning on a fucking treadmill,” she half-heartedly grumbled. “Diabetes is still a real thing, though, John.”
“I am as healthy as I am ever going to be.”
“So you say.”
She was just pulling things out of the cupboards when John came up behind her. It was only his lips ghosting over the back of her neck that made her sigh a little, and melt into his hands grabbing her around the waist.
“To be fair, Lucky stole three of the cookies,” John murmured against her skin.
“That you stole from me?”
“Plausible deniability.”
“Or you use our son because I can’t get mad at him.”
“And that,” John agreed.
“I don’t get mad at you, either.”
She felt his lips curve into a gentle smile at the base of her neck. “No, you don’t.”
“Did you sedate it?” she asked. “The sweet tooth?”
John grumbled a bit under his breath. “Not particularly.”
“Maybe the Whoopie Pies will help.”
“Doubtful, but I am not complaining.”
Siena laughed, and he pressed another kiss to the back of her neck. Med changes sometimes also meant unpredictability—they really didn’t know how it was going to hit John, or what effect it might have on him from day to day until he regulated and settled in with the new dose of whatever.
This time, instead of sleep, it was eating and energy.
He wanted all the food, all the time.
And he didn’t stop moving.
Ever.
Except to sleep—he was sleeping a moderate amount every night, but not nearly enough. It wasn’t at a worrying point just yet, but Siena had to keep her eye on it. John had gotten better at being honest, too. He knew—like they had known—that hiding things or making something appear better than it actually was only ended badly in almost every situation for John.
This was what came with being them, though.
She didn’t want John any other way.
After all, he didn’t come any other way.
“So, tell me what to do for these Whoopie Pies, and I will—”
“You can get out of my kitchen until I’m done.”
It was just easier that way.
John leaned around Siena’s side, and pressed a fast, but fleeting kiss to her lips. “Done.”
He was gone from the room before she could even pull out her mixer. All it took was the promise of more sugar.
The Surprise
John sat on the end of the bed, and stared at the item Siena had shoved into his hand just before she rushed out of the room to make sure their kids were ready for school. Eight-year-old Luciano pretty much handled himself in the morning, but their four-year-old daughter, Lina, was a whole other breed of monster.