Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“I think they’re actually pissed that I won’t let them work there in a more full-time capacity.
“Why don’t you?”
“I dunno. The range is the only thing that feels fully mine, y’know? A lot of my life revolves around the club. I wanted to have something outside of it.”
“That makes sense,” she decided. “But it’s still sweet that they will drop everything to help.”
“It’s family,” I said. “Clubs, they’re like a found family. All of my aunts and uncles and cousins, none of them are blood. They’re the club family.”
“It must be nice to have that kind of support system.”
Especially to someone like Lana, who didn’t seem to have anyone to rely on. I couldn’t fucking imagine how stressful that was. Particularly with three small kids to worry about.
I mean, when did the woman catch a break?
There was no one to hand the kids off to if she was tired or sick or just needed to have a little time away.
In the few weeks she’d been around, I’d only seen her without them twice. When she’d been at the range. For less than an hour each time.
“It is,” I agreed. “And the parties are insane,” I added.
“I can’t imagine. Were you guys spoiled rotten as kids?” she asked.
“Probably,” I agreed, taking down two mugs from the cupboard. “But more so with experiences than random shit we didn’t need. Each aunt and uncle had different things to teach us. Some of my aunts own a self-defense gym, so we all learned that. My old man has the repair shop, so we all learned basic car repair too. That kinda thing.”
“Isaac was all over ‘helping’ your dad look at our car,” she told me. “I can just barely change a tire,” she admitted. “I should take a class or something, so I can teach him.”
“You know, it’s okay to build a support system, babe,” I said, bringing her coffee over to her. “Now that you’re settled,” I added.
There was something unexpectedly guarded over her gaze then, and everything in me told me not to press, that she was only going to reinforce those walls if I tried.
“Eventually,” she agreed, nodding. “He wants to try for baseball eventually. I figure I can maybe meet some other parents that way. That kind of thing. It would be good for all of us.”
Except something in her voice made it sound like she didn’t believe that.
Maybe Amos was right.
Something was going on with her. Something that made her want to learn to shoot, to protect herself and her kids.
“I’ll get her,” I said when Clara started to cry, prompting Lana to jerk as she tried to take her first sip of coffee.
“No, I…”
“Lana, I’ll get her,” I insisted, already getting up and walking out into the living room where Clara was fussing so hard that she had her carseat rocking. “Blobs aren’t cutting it anymore, huh?” I asked, unclasping her seatbelt, moving the arm out of the way, then reaching inside to lift her out. “Mom’s just out here,” I assured her as I settled her on my hip. But she wasn’t fussing anymore anyway.
“She likes you,” Lana said with a soft smile as we moved into the kitchen.
“Well, what’s not to like?” I asked, getting another laugh out of her. “She’s a little warm,” I told her.
“It’s the teething. Their body temperatures can rise a little bit. And the whole no air thing. Babies usually can’t regulate their body temperature until almost two.”
“Sounds like she needs a little fanning action,” I said, lifting Clara higher, and waving her around in a half circle. There was a moment of stunned, wide-eyed silence, before she burst into a big, deep, belly laugh.
And, well, if you’ve ever heard a baby belly laugh, you knew how fucking addictive that shit was.
Pretty soon, she was going up and down and side to side and in a zig-zag motion as her laughs filled the room.
Lana’s laughs joined in.
Then the next thing you knew, footsteps were bounding up the stairs, and the older two were bursting into the kitchen to see what all the fuss was about.
“Listen, you’re going to regret letting me know that you’re the baby whisperer,” she said when Clara was finally settled on my hip. Mostly because my damn arms were tired. “Anytime she’s driving me up a wall, I’m dropping her on your doorstep.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t mind,” I said, shrugging as I moved us over to the table where the other two were sitting, pulling things out of their bags.
Lana’s gaze moved around as mine did the same. And when we looked up at each other, it was like we were both thinking the same thing.
About how we looked like a happy family.
Where I felt a strange, I don’t know, rightness about it, though, Lana seemed to feel the exact opposite. She jumped from the table, ruining the family unit, and made her way over to the stove, making checking on the ziti seem like a serious and very intricate task just to avoid sitting with us again.