Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Sighing, she snatched the towel from my hands. “Here, I’ll put this in the wash. You grab a clean one.”
While she went down to the basement, I hustled upstairs and pulled a clean towel from the hall closet, double checking that it said Buckley on the tag so it wouldn’t get lost. Adelaide was just coming out of her room.
“Did you make your bed?” I asked her, although it wasn’t necessary. Adelaide always made her bed.
“Yes,” she said. “Do I have time for Aunt Mabel to braid my hair?”
“If you hurry.” I tipped up her chin and looked at her pink, freckled nose. “More sunscreen today, please. And you should probably wear a hat.”
“Okay.” She took off down the stairs and I poked my head into her room.
Bed made, light off, pajamas put away. A glance into her brother’s room revealed the opposite—comforter hanging off the bed, pajamas on the floor, drawer open, light on. After tossing his Captain America PJ’s into the hamper—he’d spilled juice on them this morning—I shook my head, switched off the light, and went into my bedroom across the hall.
Moving fast, I yanked up the covers on the only side of the king-sized bed that got used. I wasn’t even sure why I’d bought such a big bed when we moved into this house two years ago—I’d been sleeping alone since the twins were born. Not that I’d been totally celibate for seven years, but I could definitely count the times I’d had sex on one hand.
And it wouldn’t even take all my fingers.
For a moment I studied my hands, wide and rough and callused, the knuckles a little swollen, my fingernails trimmed but the cuticles raggedy. I had a cut across the back of my left hand from where I’d scraped it on a nail sticking out of an old deck board yesterday, and a blister had formed on my right thumb, thanks to a hole in my gloves. They were a working man’s hands, and I couldn’t even remember the last time they’d moved across soft feminine skin, or slid into long silky hair, or grabbed onto a curvy pair of hips.
Was that part of my life over for good? Most days I was so busy, I didn’t even have time to miss it. But every now and then, after the lights were off and the house was dark and silent, I lay alone in my bed and wished I had someone to make a little noise with.
Not that there hadn’t been offers over the years, both overt and subtle. But I didn’t date. For one thing, I had no time. Aside from the week the twins spent with their mother out in California each summer, they were my responsibility twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. And a good father puts his kids first.
Owen was still in the bathroom he shared with his sister, brushing his teeth. “You about ready, bud?” I asked.
“The lady said I had to brush for two full minutes,” he said.
“What lady?” Tucking the towel under my arm, I put the cap back on the toothpaste.
“The lady at the dentist.” He rinsed his toothbrush and whacked it a few times on the edge of the sink before placing it back in the holder.
“That’s the hygienist. And she also said to floss every day, but I don’t see you doing that.” I frowned at his messy brown hair. “Good thing you guys have haircuts today. Did you brush this mop yet?”
“No.”
I exhaled and grabbed the hairbrush from the top drawer, giving his thick waves a once-through. Leaning closer, I examined his head. “Is that peanut butter?”
“Maybe.” Owen was unconcerned. “I had it with my banana this morning. Aunt Mabel said I needed some protein so I could get big muscles. Is it true that peanut butter gives you muscles?”
“Sure. If you eat it, instead of smearing it in your hair.” I did the best I could to get it out, then gave up. “Come on, let’s go.”
Downstairs, Mabel was braiding Adelaide’s long strawberry blond locks. Owen had the Buckley coloring—golden skin, chestnut hair, warm brown eyes—but Adelaide looked more like her mother, a fair-skinned, green-eyed redhead, every year. But that’s where their similarities ended.
“I don’t have to get too much cut off today, do I?” Adelaide looked up at me with worried eyes.
“Nope. Just a trim. But you need sunscreen on the part in your hair,” I told her, stuffing the clean towel into Owen’s backpack. “Don’t forget.”
“I can spray it before we get in the car.” Mabel quickly wrapped an elastic around the second braid and gave it a tug. “Done.”
“Mabel says we’re getting a new nanny, because she’s going on a dig,” Adelaide said. “Is that true?”
“Yes.” I pointed at two pairs of sneakers by the door. “Shoes on. Both of you.”