Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
But Maverick seamlessly picks up my train of thought. “Small?”
“Y’all are the worst!” Stella screeches, but she’s smiling.
“You mean best, right?”
“Yeah!” Maverick pumps his fist into the air. “Boys rule, girls drool.”
Before anyone can say anything, Frankie walks into the room, a mischievous grin twisting her pouty lips. “Maverick James, you know girls are just as good as boys, right?”
He moves to stand at his mother’s side. “Yeah, Mama, we were just teasing Stella.”
“Teasing or picking on?”
He tugs on the hem of Frankie’s shirt twice, and she kneels so they’re eye to eye. “Teasing, Mama. Because I’m not a bully.”
She searches his face for a second and then presses a loud, smacking kiss to his cheek. “That’s my boy.”
Maverick beams under her simple praise, but just as quickly , his smile wilts. “Are you sure you gotta go to work? You’re gonna miss out on the sleepover.”
Frankie’s frown mirrors his. “Yeah, bud. I do. But I’m off tomorrow. Sunday-fun-day, right?”
“Right,” he mumbles, staring at his feet.
“Oh, Mav.” Frankie’s lower lip trembles as she pulls her son into a tight hug. “What if we go to the carousel tomorrow?”
He leans back, so he can look her in the eye without breaking her embrace. “Can I pick any animal?”
Frankie nods.
“And can we get food?”
I laugh, because apparently the whole way to a man’s stomach thing starts young.
“Of course.”
He licks his lips and then shocks us all. “Can Orion come?”
“Um,” Frankie hedges, her blue eyes locking onto mine, silently pleading for help.
But it’s Stella who comes to the rescue. “Dude, am I not invited, too?”
His little cheeks turn pink as he blinks up at her. “Oh. Yeah. You can come, too!”
Stella smiles and ruffles his hair. “Thanks, Mav.”
He takes another step back, finally breaking his mother’s hold. “Want me to save you a s’more, Mama?”
Sadness swims over Frankie’s features as she stands—it’s clear as day that she wants nothing more than to stay home with her son.
“If you want,” I clear my throat, “I can send you pictures.”
Frankie hesitates before pulling her phone from her back pocket; she unlocks the screen and passes it to me. “Put your number in.”
I quickly add my info and fire off a text to myself so that I have her number. “Thanks.”
“Why are you thanking me?” she asks.
“Just being polite.” Internally, I cringe, knowing good and well I sound like an idiot. I’m usually good with the ladies, but apparently my charm doesn’t apply to the likes of Frankie.
Maybe it’s because she’s a mom, and my brain’s already placed her in the not for you category. Which is a real shame, because she’s pretty hot.
“Right.” She nods. “Well, I’ve got to get going, or I’ll be late.”
“Where do you work?” I ask before she can leave the room.
“Um.” Frankie crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m a waitress.”
Be a little shadier. “Where?”
She waves her right hand in a dismissive gesture. “Nowhere you’d know.”
“Right.” I give her a long look, wondering what kind of restaurant lets their servers work in a T-shirt and sweatpants. “Well, drive safe.”
Frankie offers me a wan smile before turning back to her son, effectively dismissing me. “You listen to Stella and Orion tonight, okay, bud?”
He bobs his head. “Yes, Mama.”
“And don’t eat too much sugar.”
“I won’t.”
“And don’t stay up too late.”
“Promise.”
She exhales and pulls him into another bone-crushing hug. “I’ll call you before bedtime to say good night, okay?”
“I love you. And I will save you a s’more. Orion even got the big marshmallows.”
“I know. You told me.” She releases him, and he scampers to my side. “If you need me, call me. If there’s an emergency, call the number I gave you, Stella.”
Now I want to know that number, so I can Google it to see where it goes.
She gives her son one more hug and then grabs her bag and heads for the door.
I wait for the sound of the latch before turning to Maverick. “You ready to camp?”
“Yeah! I was born ready.”
Stella shoots me a grin before sneaking back to her room.
“What are we going to do first?”
“The first step of camping is to secure your shelter.”
“Uh.” He cocks his head to the side. “I don’t know what that means.”
“It means”—I grab a roll of masking tape from the junk drawer, holding it up between us like a trophy—“that we need to build a fort!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
FRANKIE
I roll over, my brain somewhere in the limbo between asleep and awake. My hands pat the mattress, searching for Maverick. Sunday morning snuggles are my favorite thing ever.
But only cool sheets greet me.
He’s not here. I bolt upright at the realization, but before my panic can truly set in, I remember he camped out with Orion last night.
I’m honestly not sure how I forgot, because I’m fairly certain the image of the two of them sleeping in their pillow fort is something that will be etched into my brain for the rest of time.