Seth (Henchmen MC Next Generation #9) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors: Series: Henchmen MC Next Generation Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
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Finished with one, and having researched the other, I finally turned off the tablet, then the light, and rested back on the couch.

I hadn’t anticipated before just how the cottage was positioned compared to the main house. Meaning that if I had the lights off, I could see right into the kitchen.

Where Seth had the light on.

And was walking around without a shirt on.

Because the man was determined to torture me, it seemed.

I would never admit this if asked, but I had my very first “ovary explosion” when I’d seen him take Clara from me and plop her on her hip like he’d been doing it his whole life.

I guess this is where someone might wonder about how that was my first ovary explosion when my kids clearly had a father. But, well, anytime he’d picked them up, it wasn’t an ovary explosion, it was a full-body tension, a sick sensation in my stomach.

Luckily for me, there wasn’t a lot of interest in babies, so I didn’t have to endure that often.

Seth, though, seemed to be a natural. Even boosting Isaac’s confidence by pretending he hurt his hand.

Those were the kinds of qualities a woman looked for when choosing a spouse and a father for her kids.

Not that I was doing that.

I wasn’t.

In fact, the last thing in the world I needed was a man in my life. And definitely not one in the kids’ lives.

“Ugh,” I grumbled, rolling so my face was against the back cushions. When that wasn’t good enough, I threw the blanket over my head too.

It was useless, though.

Because when I finally did sleep, it was full of dreams of him. Shirtless and wet, and instead of walking away to get changed, grabbing me, kissing me, hands running over me…

“Mom!” a little voice yelled, jolting me awake.

I was sitting upright before I could fully remember where I was, let alone figure out what the problem was.

“Yeah?” I asked, voice thick, trying to blink some moisture into my dry eyes.

“I’m hungry,” Hazel said as I reached for my phone, checking the time.

Early.

That was why Clara hadn’t…

As if summoned by my train of thought, a frustrated cry started to come from her playard.

“I’m coming,” I said, rolling a crick out of my neck. New couch, new aches and pains.

I quickly threw a new diaper on Clara before carrying her with me to the kitchen to make her bottle and scrounge up something for Hazel.

“Looks like it’s an oatmeal morning, baby,” I said. “Maple and brown sugar or apple cinnamon?”

“Apple,” she decided after a lot of thought.

That was perfect because we only had one of the other left, and Isaac was a brown sugar kid.

“Is Isaac up yet?” I asked as she scooted herself up on the table, taking one of the dry-erase markers to color on her placemat.

“No,” she said, coloring away.

It was rare that Hazel was up first. Isaac was usually up with the first light, but tended to occupy himself until Clara woke me. Once in a blue moon, I would even wake up to him giving Clara her pacifier, trying to give me a couple more minutes of sleep.

But they’d had a busy day, so I guess he was just beat.

“Alright,” I said, passing Hazel her bowl, then depositing Clara in her highchair with a couple of toys, before opening the door to let Rodney outside.

I noticed as I did so that there was one of those bulk plastic tubs of chalk sitting near the bottom step. As well as a bag of the coffee I’d been so ravenous for at both the range and his house.

I reached for the coffee and made my way back inside just as Isaac was walking down the hall, giving me a sleepy smile.

“Seth left the chalk outside the cottage,” I told them, watching Hazel brighten. “After he leaves for work, we can play with it if you want.”

Isaac was… less inclined to be into chalk. But he agreed to appease his sister as he sat down at the table and waited for his oatmeal.

The thing was, when we went back out a few hours later, sitting with the chalk was an old basketball that had Isaac brightening about spending time in the driveway.

Was it normal to feel even more lusty for a man just because he thought of things like how one kid might feel left out because the gift didn’t suit him, so he brought another, more appropriate one?

I settled down next to Clara in her stroller to type up those other blog posts as I kept an eye on the kids while they played.

I’d just submitted them to the customer when I saw a car idling on the street, a sight that had my stomach plummeting and my heart seizing in my chest.

“Guys, get over here,” I demanded as the engine cut, the door opened, and a man climbed out. “Now,” I demanded with a little bite in my voice that had Isaac grabbing his sister’s arm, and pulling her over toward me.


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