Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
And, more useless than I had ever felt in my life, I asked Lo if it was safe to stop by, then made my way home to my woman.
"Where is she?" I asked, walking in to find Lo sitting on the couch cross-legged, one of her books opened on her thigh like a bookmark.
"Sleeping."
"She has no family?" I asked, dropping down beside her.
"Well... sort of."
"How can you sort of have family?"
Her face turned to me then, a face I knew so well that she often didn't even need to speak, I could just tell what was up by looking at her.
But this was a look I was sure I had never seen before.
It made her brown eyes bright, but not with amusement, not even pure happiness. It was something else. Something like hope and fear and tentative joy, a combination I had no way of interpreting.
"Congratulations, Daddy... it's a girl?"
I was equally lost hearing those words as I was trying to explain her expression.
My system seemed assaulted all at once with a mixture of sensations.
Confusion.
Understanding.
Fear.
Anxiety.
But underneath all of that, trapped somewhere so deep, I wasn't even sure it existed until right that moment, a need.
It had been - for us - an easy decision not to have children. We could have tried. We could have attempted adoption. But that need had never been there. And if you didn't desire it more than you desired everything else in your life, well, then you had no business taking on a child.
And it wasn't like we were lacking in the kid department. It seemed like every couple of months, someone was popping another one out. We were surrounded by baby giggles and Play-Doh, and Legos to step on, and Barbies to look at and genuinely sit and wonder if it was a sign of something bad that someone had painted the faces like death masks, or just kids being weirdos.
I got to teach someone how to ride a bike.
I got to be the designated court jester to an otherwise all-female kingdom.
I got to play catch, kick a soccer ball, attend about a thousand school functions, birthday parties, spend thousands of dollars on toys every Christmas.
It was like having kids, with the nice break of a full night of sleep, and the freedom of having wild, sweaty sex anywhere we wanted without having to worry about scarring kids for life.
That was the life we had chosen.
Happily, I might add.
Without a single regret.
But hearing that she didn't just want to do what she had done a dozen times before - take someone in at Hailstorm. Like she had with Janie once upon a time.
She wanted to bring her home.
With us.
Yeah, that meant something more than I could put words to.
"She knows about me, right?" I asked.
"Yes. She's okay with it. She said she recognizes that not all men are like the ones she knew at V's place. Maybe a bit of a wide berth physically for a while would be wise, but I think engaging her would be smart. Maybe I will have Mina and Renny over for dinner in a week or so, let them get a feel for her, give us some direction."
"Janie turned out great, baby," I reminded her, grabbing her book, carefully tucking a weekly advert between the pages because I knew she would flay me if I dog-eared the page, then tossing it on the coffee table, pulling her legs over my lap.
"I just want to be sure," she insisted. "Janie seemed great, but struggled for a long time. Years. Not sleeping. Never getting involved with men. If Mina or Renny could give us some advice on how to avoid that, maybe she could be just a tad more well-adjusted."
"Or meet her own Wolf someday," I suggested, knowing that had been a turning point. For her. For him. Never had I seen a love so capable of healing, a couple more suited.
Lo snorted, rolling her eyes at me. "Love doesn't save people, Cash."
"No?" I asked, raising a brow.
"What did love save you from?" she demanded to know.
I shrugged a shoulder, smirking. "A life of debauchery."
"Right. Because we are a couple of squares," she teased, poking me in the ribs with the tips of her toes. "Oh, speaking of square, parental things. Your new daughter thinks you are getting too old for your haircut."
"What?" my voice hissed out of me as my hand rose to rub up the shaved side of my head.
"Hey, you're someone's old man now. It's time for one of those haircuts that says you've given up on life."
"Or maybe I will dye it bright blue, and humiliate her everywhere we go."
"There's a real dad talking," she said, smile warmer than I had maybe ever seen it as she scooted until her ass landed in my lap, her head tucking under my chin.