Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“You promised never to mention that again!” I glared accusingly.
He stirred the air between us with one hand. “This is why we’re all best friends. We take secrets to the grave.”
“Right, but you just outed hers, so…” Monica shook her head. “All right, we’ll get moving. I’m going to give the kids another kiss, make sure Rip knows not to bother you too much—”
“I can handle Rip,” I lied. But Rip and I had already made a pact months before when we started planning this anniversary surprise. We each did our jobs and that was it, no contact. It was easier that way after what had gone down between us last fall.
After I misread the situation, tried to kiss him, and was nearly clipped by a bike courier trying his damnedest to get his pizza delivered on time to the next-door neighbor.
It was a mistake.
Our date.
Our almost-kiss.
I sighed. “Like I said, I can handle Rip. You guys go kiss the kids good night again. You’re only going to be gone a week, and you deserve this! Rip and I will clean up, make sure all the guests get home safely.” Half the guests had already left, because hello, parenthood; when a party went past nine the parents started dropping like flies. “Just have fun.”
“Thank you.” Monica’s eyes welled with tears. “You’re the sister I never had.”
“But,” a smooth voice chimed in, “that’s because God gave you the best brother in the universe.”
I was shocked that I was able to keep a straight face as Rip bent down and kissed his sister on the forehead, then pulled his best friend in for a hug. I would never understand the bromance between Brooks and Rip.
“Thanks, man, we appreciate it.” Brooks looked between the two of us, his expression weary. “No fighting in front of the kids.”
“We don’t fight,” we both said defensively.
“Right.” Brooks held up his hands. “Just… use your words, and if necessary the kids have puppets upstairs. I find sometimes it’s easier to express yourself when—”
Rip flipped him off.
I nodded my agreement.
And then they were gone.
“So.” Rip turned his megawatt grin toward me. “I’ll take care of the kitchen, you got bathrooms?”
“If you hand me a plunger I’m going to shove it down your throat.” I injected so much sweetness into my words he might have gotten a cavity.
He didn’t even flinch. “You think it would fit?”
“I hate you.”
“Same.” His grin was calm, collected, beautiful. “I think one of the guests had an issue with the shrimp. Try not to make the mess worse.”
“I think I can manage some indigestible shrimp.”
“Oh, he digested it all right,” was the last thing Rip said as he walked off and started saying goodbye to guests and talking with the caterer.
One week.
I could handle Rip for one week.
Besides, I had two adorable children to distract me.
TWO
Rip
I wasn’t a kid person.
Not that it should come as a shock to anyone when they took a look at me, but something about my niece and nephew holding their stuffed animals close, their faces so peaceful as the glow from the unicorn night-light danced across the ceiling, hit me right in the gut.
I leaned against the doorway and smiled as Ben yawned and then flopped onto his stomach, his Star Wars pajama pants hiked up his skinny legs and his brown hair a tangled mess that I knew I’d have to fix before preschool in the morning.
Viera, his younger sister, refused to sleep in her room, which meant Ben had a tiny space on the far side of the double since she refused to sleep vertically.
I yawned behind my hand and closed the door, leaving it open an inch in case either of them needed us.
For a brief second, I thought about grabbing a pillow and blanket and just guarding the door like the paranoid uncle I was, but Monica had given me the don’t-spoil-them look. She knew it was only a matter of time before I snuck into their room, built a tent, and let them sleep in it for the next week while their parents were in Mexico.
With a sigh, I started down the hall to my assigned guest room next door just in time to see a grumpy-looking Colby sway her way up the stairs.
“Tired?” I asked.
Everything about her bothered me, mainly because she was this force of nature that refused to follow any rules but her own.
Rules kept people safe.
“Yes,” she hissed, her eyes narrowing into tiny slits until she looked behind me at the cracked door. Her face softened. “Let me guess, Viera’s barely giving poor Ben any bed space.”
I gave her a small smile like a temporary white flag—the only safe space for us was where the kids were concerned. “She’s a bed hog just like her mom.”
“Ugh!” Colby laughed. “Don’t remind me, I had to room with her in college. The woman doesn’t understand the meaning of shared space.”