Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“Afternoon,” he warmly greets from his end of the phone. “Am I interrupting?”
“Of course not,” I coyly play off after delivering a ruffle to my hair. “We were just…getting ready for the day. It’s only morning here.”
“We were having breakfast,” Wes cheekily adds.
“I see,” my stepfather amusedly hums. “Let me remind you both to properly clean your faces now that you’ve cleaned your plates.”
Crimson remorselessly coats his cheeks leaving the smooth segue up to me. “And speaking of those with messy faces, how’s my baby boy?”
“The usual.” Clark briefly angles the camera to the room behind him where Wyland is beaming brightly at Brie Kenningston. “Charming.”
“Mo’ spinkles?” Wy adoringly asks.
“You already have so many,” she snickers, shaker still moving towards whatever treat is in front of him despite the objection.
“Jus’ oneeeeeee,” he playfully taps her nose, “mo?”
“Ahhhhh,” girlish giggles are attached to her caving, “you’re too cute! How does anyone resist you?”
“Should I be concerned that the little lad is clearly making his move on you, love?” Kellan playfully inquires while watching her fawn all over my son.
“Maybeeeeee.”
Clark rotates the camera back to him. “I should probably go help the situation before my grandson accidentally starts an international incident.” He does his best to keep his tone light. “I just wanted to touch base before you became unavailable.” A familiar fatherly expression falls onto his face. “Make sure that you both are alright.”
Wes offers him the most reassuring smile he can muster up. “We will be.”
He hates this plan.
He actually hated all of Park’s proposed versions of the plan, but this one the most because it requires me to be out of his direct sight.
But the truth is, he has nothing to worry about.
I have an extra safeguard for this situation.
I’m gonna be fine.
It’s the unidentified twat that should be worried.
“Gammmpiiiiii,” calls Wy in the background. “Want spinkle?!”
“He’s only trying to get me to eat sprinkles with him because Gami is still napping,” Clark mirthfully chuckles. “I’m onto him.”
“He most certainly is a lady’s man,” Wes laughs. “I blame his uncle.”
Curiosity has me quickly questioning, “Which one?”
“Either,” my husband chortles. “They’re both a little too flirty – even married.”
“Such a prude for a man who just had his tongue in my-”
“We’ll call when we have news,” Wes hurriedly cuts me off. “Tell Little Hero we miss him.”
Clark waves goodbye and ends the call presenting me with the perfect moment to declare something that’s been on my mind since we abruptly put them and Hill on a plane in the middle of the night. “You’re flying with me to bring them home.”
His body shifts itself to create a bit of space between us post tossing the tablet back on the table. “Excuse me?”
“You haven’t flown since your parent’s death.”
“I’m aware.”
“Don’t you think it’s time to-”
“No.”
“I think that-”
“No.”
“Yeah, that whole, not letting me finish having my own independent thought didn’t work with the queen in that parable they tell Wy at bedtime, and it damn sure isn’t about to work for the mouthy princess now.”
“You remember that story?”
“How can I not?” My eyebrows pull together in perplexity. “They’ve been telling some version of it to him at least once a month since he was born. I’m honestly surprised they haven’t put it in picture form yet.”
Wes doesn’t bother hiding the grin growing on his lips. “You remember it.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s not written down anywhere.”
“Nope.”
“And they haven’t told it to him since the incident. Since…your…condition.”
“That’s-” The realization he was trying to express finally hits me. “That’s…true…”
One hand tenderly lands on my thigh. “Seems like the less we focus on the past, the more that comes back.”
“And I love that,” my palm falls on top of his, “but I love moving towards our future more.” Curling my fingers around his is followed by adding, “And in that future, I want us to travel. For work. For pleasure. For family.” He attempts to pull back encouraging me to tighten my grasp. “I understand the anxiety that’s stirred whenever you so much as look at your family jets; however, I know you’ll never be able to fully let go of the guilt you still harbor about what happened to your parents and my dad until you step foot onto one again. And I may not be as counselor amazing as Troi was on the ship, but I’m willing to bet my 3-D chess set that that’s root of the reason that you don’t. Because you are not ready to forgive yourself yet.”
“It was my fault, Brynley.”
“It wasn’t.” Gently cupping his cheek forces his stare to stay with mine. “But it will be yours, if you’re not there to experience any part of your son’s first big plane-based vacation.”
Which is what we’re cleverly calling hiding him at the royal palace in Doctenn where attacking it would be an actual declaration of war.