Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
I studied her luscious curves, noting their subtle changes. Her breasts were a bit larger, and her hips were a bit wider. Her thighs were a bit thicker and her cheeks were a bit fuller.
And then I saw it. The “thing” that happened.
I flipped over to a picture of my songbird sitting in a park. She was nestled beside a woman with brown hair and tan skin, while a teenaged boy was settled at her other side. And there was a girl looking over her shoulder, with big blue eyes, radiant tan skin, and dark black hair.
Hair just like her mother’s. And eyes just like mine.
I flipped through picture after picture of the little girl and my stomach sank to my toes. I did the math in my head as I shuffled through the papers on the floor. I found the little girl’s birth certificate and clocked her birthday.
Eight months and three weeks from the first time—and only time—I’d ever plunged myself into my songbird’s warm, wet, inviting body.
“Her name’s Rose Brugman,” the detective said. “She’s twenty-four years old, takes care of her thirteen-year-old brother since her parents died in a car accident when she was nineteen. She dropped out of culinary school for that and took a steady job at the diner once she figured out she was pregnant.”
“With my child,” I said, whispering.
“She looks just like you,” the detective said.
I couldn’t believe it. This beautiful, picturesque woman was the mother of my child. Her body had swelled with my seed, rounding out her features perfectly while she blossomed with my child. For three solid years, she did nothing but sacrifice to take care of this family. The family that fate had brought together through tragedy and chance. Her family that she’d become the foundation of.
“The woman next to her in the park is her roommate and cousin, Cassandra Anderson,” the detective said. “Cassie for short.”
But I didn’t care about any of that. Not right now. My perfect princess—my innocent songbird—was working at a diner to make ends meet while she raised my daughter. She was sacrificing everything in her life, becoming as strong as she needed to in order to support the family she loved. I ran my fingertips over the face of my smiling daughter, who seemed to know exactly where to put her eyes every time this detective took a picture of them.
“Thank you for your service,” I said.
“I assume the money’s just gonna… appear in my account?” he asked.
“I put it there a couple days ago,” I said mindlessly. “Remember the NDA you signed.”
“I do, don’t worry. If there’s one thing I can get behind, it’s the protection of children. I don’t even know what you look like.”
He stood and left me with all the information I needed right in the palms of my hands. Pictures of my daughter. Rose’s address. The people she hung out with. The people she loved. Where she worked and when she usually worked.
Everything I needed to easily find her in this mountain town.
I was determined to be a part of her life. I was determined to be a part of my daughter’s life. I was determined to make her life easier. To show her what it meant to me that she was willing to carry my child and take care of her.
I wanted to show her what that night three years ago meant to me and, now, I finally could. Now that Junior and I had escaped our horrid past.
CHAPTER ELEVEN – ROSE
I picked up the dinner shift after I took Ana to her doctor’s appointment to make up for the loss in my tips. It still wasn’t enough to completely make up for it, but it would help to make ends meet until the Sunday lunch rush. The last customer had just left and I was honestly considering locking the doors fifteen minutes early. I wanted to get home to Ana to see how she was doing after having all of her shots. I knew Cassie had a handle on things, especially with Kevin really taking a liking to her, but all I wanted to do was hold my little girl and comfort her.
But my wishes were blown to shreds when the bell above the door rang as another customer entered.
I turned around and saw a tall, rugged, muscular man walking in. Clad in a flannel shirt that clung to his chest and worn-down jeans that seemed to fit him just right, I couldn’t help but sense a familiarity about him. The dark brown hair on his head was stuffed underneath a hat, and the thick beard on his face was trimmed close to his square jaw. I couldn’t make out his eyes from, though I watched him, and the way he directed his attention towards me suggested he knew me.