Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“What? No way.” Isaiah shook his head. “We do not need you going all commando on this. You’ll see if you take the kids out—the looks are coming your way too. No good way to go pee unless there’s a family restroom, and even then, you get comments.”
“I hadn’t thought that far,” Mark admitted. He hated that anyone had made Isaiah and the girls feel bad, especially today, which had already been hard enough. Like Isaiah, the girls were biracial, but they all had different skin tones. If a stranger was making a judgment based only on appearances, it wasn’t obvious that they were related on first glance.
“Figured. Here.” Isaiah thrust a T-shirt and pair of pull-on shorts at him. “They’re clean. Figured you might want to lose the sailor suit.”
“Can you hold the baby?” Mark handed him back over, then headed to the restroom, keeping his eyes peeled for whatever asshole had dared harass Isaiah. However, the dank restroom was deserted and he changed quickly, not wanting to leave Isaiah alone with the kids too long.
It was the second time he was in Isaiah’s clothes, which were smaller than his own. Isaiah seemed to like things on the baggy side, so they weren’t painfully tight. They smelled like Isaiah too—a stronger-scented detergent than the one he used, a hint of the woodsy scent he associated with Isaiah in there too, tugging at his senses just like the shirt pulling at his shoulders, a constant reminder of Isaiah.
Trying to push that awareness aside, he hurried back to the car to stow his uniform and shoes. Isaiah was already barefoot himself, suit pants rolled up to his calves, and had the baby up in the pack while he handed the girls plastic cups and spoons to be makeshift diggers.
“You came prepared.” Mark was impressed despite his reservations about Isaiah’s child-watching abilities.
“Always gotta be ready for a beach day.” Isaiah gave him a grin, one that lit up all the dark places in Mark’s chest, the places that had ached all damn day. “Let’s go.”
They made their way down the short trail to the beach, Mark realizing quickly that carrying Zoe was the way to go while Isaiah held Daphne’s hand. Zoe was bigger than the baby, more sturdy, able to ride on his hip, but he still felt the same nervousness, scared he might let this precious cargo fall.
Letting Isaiah take point, he followed him past the lifeguard station toward a rocky outcropping. It was a weekday and still not quite spring, so the crowd was sparse. Mark had grown up on and around the ocean—his parents’ beach house, the yacht, frequent travels to other locales with beaches, but he’d never lost his sense of wonder at the vastness of the ocean stretching out to the horizon, late afternoon sun shimmering off the glassy blue surface.
Apparently finding a satisfactory patch of sand, one with some large rocks and a log for sitting, Isaiah plopped down. “Come on. Take a load off.”
Mark set Zoe down with a firm “Stay.”
“She’s not a cocker spaniel.” Isaiah laughed. “Girls, we’re not going in the water, okay? Let’s build a castle instead.”
Hanging back, Mark watched Isaiah set about molding sand for the girls, cheering them on as they used the cups and spoons. He was damn good at this kid stuff. You’re going to have to get that good in a hurry. He won’t stick around. Mark tried to push that somber thought aside. He was slowly coming to see that he was going to be well and truly screwed when Isaiah went back to his life, but for right now he was a blessing, even if he did drive Mark nuts on a bunch of levels.
“Mommy liked the ocean,” Daphne said absently as she patted her lumpy tower into place.
“Yeah. She did.” Isaiah’s voice was strained. “Daddy liked the mountains better though. Loved snow.”
“That’s silly.” Daphne laughed, continuing with playing in the sand like this wasn’t a huge breakthrough, her even talking about Cal and Danielle. “I like boats.”
“Me too. Did you know Uncle Mark goes on boats lots? For his work.” Isaiah was apparently far better than Mark at forcing words out, keeping this light and easy for Daphne. His eyes were shimmering though. “And him and Mommy used to go on your grandparents’ big boat all the time too.”
“Dani—Mommy loved the yacht,” Mark confirmed, eyes burning like he’d stared into an eclipse. They’d sold the yacht after his parents’ deaths, and for the first time Mark wished that maybe they’d kept it. Another link to Danielle and his parents now gone.
“They have boats in heaven.” Daphne said this emphatically, like she was daring them to disagree with her. It was all Mark could do to nod.
“Yup.” Isaiah rose, far more graceful with a kid on his back than Mark could be. He grabbed a nearby long stick and then walked a few paces in front of them, farther out to the damp sand. Mark was about to ask him what he was doing when he saw the tears on Isaiah’s cheeks.